Alys Stevens is running out of familiar road. Approaching the same age as her mother’s death and muddling through a messy divorce, the 40-something home renovator has lost the control she so deeply craves. So when her siblings show up demanding a girls' night full of fun, the three brew up an ancient family cocktail...and accidentally unleash powerful magic.

Mary Frances Talbot—Frankie—is a necromancer, probably. Hard to say since she never met her parents. She can see the dead, talk to the dead, and a few other things that aren't strictly legal. It's fine. No worries. As long as she doesn't get caught. The whole not getting caught thing was going well until Samuel Harrow blew back into town wearing a Savannah Police Department uniform. He might be a witch, but he hates magic. He's not a fan of Frankie either. Which explains why he's her ex.

This bundle includes books one, two, and three in the Beechwood Harbor Magic Mysteries series.

Samantha Sinclair's midlife can be summed up in one word—trapped. Trapped by Multiple Sclerosis. Trapped by an abusive husband. Trapped until her son breaks the vicious cycle and whisks her away to a bed and breakfast on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The only problem? It puts her in the path of the only man she ever wanted. Damien rejected her years ago and Sam's never recovered from the heartache. Combined with the quirky and nosy oddballs in the fifty and up waterfront community, the B&B isn't the ideal place to lay low.

Danielle Garrett presents Books 1-5 of the Sugar Shack Witch Mysteries, a paranormal cozy mystery series filled with magic, mystery, family squabbles, sassy heroines, and a mysterious monster hunter—all with a little sugar sprinkled on top. This bundle includes Sprinkles and Sea Serpents, Grimoires and Gingerbread, Mermaids and Meringue, Sugar Cookies and Sirens, and Hexes and Honey Buns.

Welcome to The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar. I'm Sam Quinn, the werewolf book nerd in charge. I run my business by one simple rule: Everyone needs a good book and a stiff drink, be they vampire, wicche, demon, or fae. No wolves, though. Ever. I serve the supernatural community of San Francisco. We've been having some problems lately. Okay, I'm the one with the problems. The broken body of a female werewolf washed up on my doorstep. What makes sweat pool at the base of my spine, though, is realizing the scars she bears are identical to the ones I conceal.

In 1876, we were called to Savannah, Georgia to help with an infestation of demons. If we'd known what we, my wife Evangeline, and I, were walking into, we'd have run the other way. As it was, we shared tea with a vampire and stepped into a battle we did not understand until it was too late.

The day after my 43rd birthday, my husband announced he was trading me in - his words, not mine. The news was unwelcome at the time, but honestly? I needed a good goosing to get up and find my way to the door. So I was freed from the giant manual of expectations authored by my ex. That was the good news. The flip side was less happy. Due to living in a state not friendly to discarded wives, I was also relieved of the financial "security" I'd spent a lifetime accruing.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of twenty years packs up and heads for greener pastures and my son leaves for college, that's exactly what my life becomes. Do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at forty 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. I'll be taking care of a centuries old house that called to me when I was a kid.

It wasn’t until I lost everything—my home, my marriage, even my career—that I started to wonder if our “family curse” might be more than an unfortunate turn of phrase. Now turning forty-five, the age at which every woman in my family dies, I need answers not only for myself but for my two daughters. And I’ll see every specialist in the country if that’s what it takes. But when a lifelong friend discovers a link between my strange family history and an abandoned estate, I can't pass up the opportunity to learn what happened before the death certificates started piling up.

Plucked out of the Collector’s Pens, auctioned off to a vampire contingent, and sent across the ocean to the Alpha Territories was not exactly how I planned to spend my week. Actually, scratch that. I had planned the first bit. But I was supposed to be sold to the werewolves so I could save my friend from a fate worse than death. Instead, the bloodsuckers have me and so far? It's not going great. I've been shoved into a corset and made to look like an extra on the cast of Bridgerton, all to take part in the Harvest Games....

A forty something home organizer with ADHD has no choice but to return to her bizarre childhood home after her life falls apart in this enchanting series by USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Hart.

Okay, so I'm in trouble. Big trouble. I'm broke. Worse, my boyfriend of five years just dumped me. What do I do? I move in with my three eccentric aunts in their family home, Davenport House. Sounds exciting, only this massive farmhouse likes to eat men. If I were a regular human, I would have run out screaming like a banshee. As a witch - I do absolutely nothing. Hey, maybe they deserved it? I'm back in Hollow Cove, the flamboyant paranormal community, where nymphs, werewolves, trolls, shifters, witches, and other paranormals live comfortable lives away from prying human eyes.

"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.

My life was going just fine by most standards. I ran a successful business in a tight-knit magical community, and lived just blocks from a beautiful lake and series of hiking trails. Then Selene showed up. According to some magical code I inherit my aunt's ancient familiar; a grumpy ten-pound cat with a broken filter. She fancies herself something of a saber-toothed tiger, and claims to have wrestled the thread of her ninth life from the hands of the Fates themselves—although, I'm pretty sure that last part isn't true. Almost positive.