I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

I've never been so scared in my life, but armed with a ski mask, a leather jacket, and a tennis racket, I'm ready to take on the flying demon . . . er, bat.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

Our world is slowly healing after surviving a horrific war. The magical and nonmagical creatures of Brinnswick have pulled together to mend the world, but the man I think - really, I know - is my viramore, my soulmate, has somehow been left behind. I felt drawn to him as soon as I met him, and I wanted to explore what we were to each other, but I never got the chance.

Master Ambrosius was created over a millennium ago and had come to terms with spending his life alone. He has his coven, his second, and a few close friends, but he continues to be haunted by the memory of his fated mate running from him in terror. That is, until the goddess sends him to Montana, and he discovers his body reacting to a sexy alpha with wide shoulders and dark eyes. Surely there’s some mistake though, right?

Well, he loves the idea of his job. It’s just that the reality of marketing isn’t a creative joy, it’s a soul-crushing corporate rat race. His boss keeps taking credit for his work, and his coworkers couldn’t be less sympathetic if they tried.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

Sascha has always felt powerless, the weak baby of a cruel family. But that’s fine. He has his looks, his ample allowance, and a smattering of one-night stands to keep him busy. But when Sascha’s oldest brother offends the wrong people, Sascha finds himself in hiding with a target on his back. And when poking around in his temporary home leads to accidentally summoning the hottest demon Sascha could ever imagine, he has to ask himself: does he want to feel powerless anymore?

This is what Brad gets for finally "sinking his teeth into a book," like his nerdy brother is always hounding him to. He definitely wasn't expecting the book to sink its teeth into him. With the newfound knowledge that he can get pregnant as an omega, Brad's urgency to get back to his world of touchdowns and keg stands is intensifying by the minute. Unfortunately, so is his attraction to Raul, the possessive alpha shifter who broods mysteriously and smells like sandalwood and something uniquely masculine.

Chris Gardner has a good life in New Orleans. He owns a club in the French Quarter, has a wonderful crew of people who call it home, loyal, caring friends, and even gets his kid fix by helping to take care of his chef’s daughter. What he doesn’t have is that special someone to share his days and nights with. He thought he did, once upon a time, but that man left to find fame and fortune, became a rockstar, and never returned. And that’s fine. Life isn’t a fairy tale. Now if only he could find a band to play music in his club at night, that would be a Christmas miracle.

Shunned by most species and abandoned by their warlock fathers, necromancers are marginalized, feared, and reclusive. Erasmus Boone is different. His warlock father chose love instead of abandonment. Unusually powerful and talented, Boone embraced his necromantic abilities and managed to carve out an existence within a world that would rather he not exist at all.

Dragons were dying. All over the world, a curse was taking us out one by one, and nobody knew how to stop it. I watched my mother burn, I watched my little brother fall sick. That's when Robby practically falls into my lap, with his big brown eyes and charming smile and his penchant for being hunted by vampires. After saving him twice from certain death, we soon come to realize that there's a reason he's being hunted. And that reason may be the answer to all our problems, and the start to a whole new set of them.

Working with kids is totally my jam, and I'm damn good at what I do. Just call me Maxy Frickin' Poppins! When a new job prospect comes my way, I'm intrigued. A chance to move to Mystic Hollow (aka Monsters Hollow) to be a well-paid manny for two adorable orclings? Talk about a dream position. Sold! But when I lock eyes with the seriously sexy orc who's their guardian—and my new de facto boss—for the first time, I'm a goner. Big, muscular, and green all over–he's giving me full-on Hulk meets stern professor vibes—and I like it.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

What happens when you fall and hit the webtoons trope tree? You get killed by Truck-kun, get transported to a fantasy world by a sentient Fae coin, and become the first gay holy maiden. Jake Alexander is Not Happy to be sure. Fortunately in Jake's case, part of the trope tree includes the gorgeous Duke of the North, Theon. And starting a business from scratch, which he's always wanted to do. And revitalizing his new country which is on the verge of collapse.

Our world is slowly healing after surviving a horrific war. The magical and nonmagical creatures of Brinnswick have pulled together to mend the world, but the man I think - really, I know - is my viramore, my soulmate, has somehow been left behind. I felt drawn to him as soon as I met him, and I wanted to explore what we were to each other, but I never got the chance.

Strange things are happening all around Brinnswick. Things that remind me of a piece of my past I’d rather forget. Girls are being killed, drained of blood, and left with strange markings on their bodies. When I finally connect the cases together, a specialist is called in - though, what he’s a specialist of is beyond me. When the chief assigns him as my new partner for the case, I can’t help but groan on the inside. Why of all people would I be assigned to Ailin Ellwood?

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

I've never been so scared in my life, but armed with a ski mask, a leather jacket, and a tennis racket, I'm ready to take on the flying demon . . . er, bat.

Nick has no direction in his life, as his mother often reminds him. He works paycheck to paycheck, which becomes a problem when the paychecks stop coming in. When he's offered an opportunity to work off his rent, Nick decides there are worse things in life than being a super, especially when the job includes free rent. There is, however, a catch. His landlord is a vampire, and he needs more from Nick than maintenance and renter-wrangling. He needs Nick's blood.

World War III broke out 130 years ago when humans found out that magi and shifters were real. Humans have been imprisoning and enslaving the two species since. But now humans need their help protecting the world from the strange monsters they let cross the veil between realms. All three species have been at odds for more than a century, but can Madeo—a mage—and Cosmo—a lion shifter—put aside their differences to work together, and maybe even find comfort in each other’s arms?

A scandalous ex-porn star demon and a morally shady billionaire vampire walk into a bar… But this is no joke. It's opening day at the SOS Hotel and that lust demon? He's my business partner. I know. What was I thinking? The sexy, suave vampire, however? He's something else… Creating a sanctuary for the supernaturals left here when the tear in the veil sealed was always going to be difficult, but it's all I have, and I'm going to make it work. Despite the murders, the missing humans, and the psychotic real estate mogul who wants to bulldoze the hotel.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Shunned by most species and abandoned by their warlock fathers, necromancers are marginalized, feared, and reclusive. Erasmus Boone is different. His warlock father chose love instead of abandonment. Unusually powerful and talented, Boone embraced his necromantic abilities and managed to carve out an existence within a world that would rather he not exist at all.

Piers Adams never knew his parents or birthplace. All he wants from his mundane life is a better apartment and fewer working hours serving drinks at a club in Asheville, North Carolina. Sure, weirdness happens around him occasionally. Coincidences, right? He can’t possibly wish things into existence. After all, he’s only human. Maybe. It’s hard living down to a nickname like Wicked, but Prince Wycke Bertillian of the magical realm tries. He enjoys his lack of responsibilities until he’s coerced into a clandestine mission: find an evil sorceress’s hidden son in the human realm.

Paris's path is clear, his future settled. He's trained his whole life in politics and the running of a kingdom. He's going to be an adviser to the future king, his beloved prince. But when his father dies unexpectedly, the current king takes the opportunity to get rid of him, sending him to the barbaric southern tribe lands of Nemeda as a diplomat. No one has ever returned from the tribes alive.

Well, he loves the idea of his job. It’s just that the reality of marketing isn’t a creative joy, it’s a soul-crushing corporate rat race. His boss keeps taking credit for his work, and his coworkers couldn’t be less sympathetic if they tried.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

I don't ask for much from life; I get paid, and then I get laid. And piloting spaceships across the galaxy keeps my solo lifestyle well-funded. I don't need a relationship or any of the baggage that comes with it. I like my men like I like my coffee; to go. That is, until the most boring job in the universe goes horribly wrong and I'm snatched from my ship by a seven-foot alien. He's huge, he's purple, and he's ripped as hell. I'm sure I'm a dead man. Only it turns out he doesn't want to kill me. What he wants is far worse.