Gabby Menard

When her aunt passes away, she leaves Kaidyn an old trunk of bizarre contents and one of her cats. After accidentally opening a portal, Kaidyn is thrown into a country divided by a massive wall and overwhelmed with ancient magic. Thrust between two royal houses, both claiming rights to the throne, Kaidyn isn't sure who or what to believe. One thing soon becomes clear: she is the next Keeper of the Keys, an ancient lineage of human women tasked with balancing the wild magic and serving the true monarch of Evirness.

Trista has been on the run for years, attempting to escape a past that isn’t willing to let her go. Life taught her that she can rely only on herself for survival, and in turn, it’s made her cold, calculating, manipulative, and just a little vindictive. She knows they’re out there searching for her. She knows someone will always be right behind her, but a life spent running and hiding is exhausting. A life spent fighting and outsmarting her pursuers takes a toll.

Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother—has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates striving to become the elite of Navarre: dragon riders. But when you’re smaller than everyone else and your body is brittle, death is only a heartbeat away...because dragons don’t bond to “fragile” humans. They incinerate them.

Death walks alongside me. But the reaper is no match for me. I'm trapped in a world full of monsters dressed as men, and those who aren't as they seem. They won't keep me forever. I no longer recognize the person I've become. And I'm fighting to find my way back to the beast who hunts me in the night. They call me a diamond. But they've only created an angel of death.

I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love - I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar. Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s 27, the boss’ daughter, and my new part-time nanny - which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her. What kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?