When Marty Andrews gets bitten by a mangy mutt while walking her teacup poodle, her blond hair darkens, the hair on her legs starts growing at an alarming rate, and her mood swings put her dream job as a sales rep for Bobbie-Sue Cosmetics in serious jeopardy. Then a drool-worthy man shows up at her door claiming that he accidentally bit Marty. And since he's a werewolf, she is now, too. Thinking Keegan Flaherty is clearly insane, Marty refuses to believe a word until a kidnapping makes her realize there's more at stake than just her highlights.

Hello. My name is Stevie Cartwright, and I've been witchless for 30 days. If only there was a support group for down-on-their-luck ex-witches who've had their powers slapped right out of them (literally). Just as I was licking my wounds after returning to my hometown of Ebenezer Falls, Washington, and navigating my suddenly nonmagical existence with the help of my familiar, Belfry, things got sticky. Enter an ex-spy and newly departed spirit named Winterbottom, who's infiltrated my life with his sexy British accent and a couple of requests....

Freshly sprung from witch jail, Winnie Foster just has to fulfill the conditions of her parole and she's home free. Too bad that parole takes place in Paris. (Texas!) Where she'll work at a school for the magically inclined. (KIDS!) And be forced to endure the ex, who's one of the very reasons she landed in the pokey to begin with. (GAH!!) Bratty tots, sexy ex, timed showers, creepy dolls, magic restrictions, and a GPS with an attitude, all wrapped in a Texas town hotter than the surface of the sun? Oh yeah. No way this could go wrong!

Delaney Markham has a special talent. Not only does she see dead people, she hears them. By the way, communicating with tormented spirits all day, every day really puts a kink in your love life. With no romantic entanglements to speak of, Delaney is free to use her gifts by holding seances to pay the bills. Except things go off the rails when she meets one unbelievably infuriating ghost, and as her luck would have it, he seems determined to hang around, like all the time!

I'm Halliday Valentine, a psychic witch who's recently moved from New York City back to my very human hometown of Marshmallow Hollow, where I run the family factory that caters to all things Christmas. Digby Dainty (known as Hobbs), the tall drink of water who rents my guest cottage, and I have a lot in common, including a love of true crime. So as macabre as it sounds, when a shady real estate tycoon shows up dead in the middle of the annual ice festival, I'm thrilled to spend time with Hobbs, flexing our amateur sleuthing skills.

My name is Sister Trixie Lavender, and I'm an occasionally possessed excommunicated nun. I was booted from the convent after doing something unspeakable. Something I had no control over. Something that lives inside me to this day, exploding out like that chest-burster in Alien when I least suspect it.

Stormy “Breeze” Morgan was living the high life until her dreams came crashing down around her and she lost her book contract. With nothing left to do—and no money in her bank account—she’s forced to return to the family business, a diner in Northern Lower Michigan. Stormy never thought she would have to work with her family again, and it’s just as horrific as she expected. Things only get worse when, after a night of drinking with her cousin, a family Ouija board leads to a burst of magic and Stormy wakes floating over her bed the next morning.

Danielle Garrett presents Book 1 in the Magic Inn Paranormal Mysteries.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of 20 years packs up and heads for greener pastures, and my son heads away to college, that's exactly what my midlife becomes. A do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at 40 I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills.

Scout Randall always considered herself a big-city girl. Then she got transferred to rural northern Lower Michigan by Spell’s Angels, the monster-hunting biker gang that’s been her sole reason for being since her tempestuous teenage years, and everything she thought she believed started to shift. This three-book omnibus includes: Bad to the Crone, No Crones About It, and No Crone Unturned.

Hali Waverly is a witch about town, owner of the Salty Cauldron, the best tiki bar on St. Pete Beach. Her life should be grand, but trouble keeps finding her.

When her father approaches her with an opportunity to serve as an in-house psychic for the opening of his new inn, Clove jumps at the chance. It will be an opportunity for her and Sam to spend some much-needed time alone - and have some fun in the process. Of course, since she's a Winchester witch, nothing goes as planned.

Shadowvale isn’t typical small-town America. The sun never shines, the gates decide who enters, magic abounds, and every resident bears some kind of curse. No one knows this as well as raven shifter Deacon Evermore, who, like everyone in his family, has a curse. While his position as Shadowvale’s peacekeeper lets him use that curse for good, he’d rather live anywhere else. He stays for his family but doubts he can last much longer.

Ivy Morgan, Harper Harlow, Maddie Graves, and Rowan Gray are four mothers on a mission, all determined to keep their families safe. As a group, they work together to offer their various expertise on paranormal cases … always offering backup to each other and bolstering the bonds they’re determined to maintain. Four wonderful families, a multitude of colorful sidekicks, and a bevy of children with attitude join together to embark on a brand new adventure.

Vampyres don't exist. They absolutely do not exist. At least I didn't think they did 'til I tried to quit smoking and ended up Undead. Who in the hell did I screw over in a former life that my getting healthy equates with dead? Now I'm a Vampyre. Yes, we exist whether we want to or not. However, I have to admit, the perks aren't bad. My girls no longer jiggle, my ass is higher than a kite, and the latest Prada keeps finding its way to my wardrobe.