Xander Corey lives simply, sustainably, on the outskirts of Osprey, a small, quaint town in Upstate New York. He’s a librarian when the town’s budget can afford him, a good friend, kind neighbor, and also, a witch. And while that’s of no concern to anyone around him, there are others, non-humans, who have a vested interest in Xander’s family land. Xander knows something dark and dangerous is brewing. He’s just not quite sure what.

Nolan O’Brien is a public prosecutor, and if he ever sees the name Bruno Barbieri again, it will be too soon. After a long week preparing for the trial of the decade, it takes no convincing to hit the men’s club for a few drinks. Except the club wasn’t the only thing he hit that night.

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.

As a lieutenant at the Fool's Pass Fire Department and a single father, Easton Kooper's life revolves around his children. When he receives an urgent call from his son's doctor, it upends Easton's world. With no idea of what to do or where to turn, he's never felt more lost. And then in walks the answer he didn't know he needed: a gorgeous fae with an angelic smile, bearing grand promises to turn the Kooper family's life right side up again.

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.

Jake is absolutely, completely ordinary, even if he has a weird painting affliction. Painting is relaxing, right? It helps. It's a form of art therapy. Even if his painting is the subconscious kind. The middle-of-the-night, paint-while-you-sleep kind. The kind that makes him puke every single time it happens. Okay. So, maybe that’s not exactly normal. But when a sexy but presumably imaginary guy with horns, who Jake's strange painterly alter-ego has been fixated on for the last year, suddenly shows up in town with horns and all, Jake doesn't know what to think.

Rescued from slavers, healer novice Jaime Buchanan finds himself alone and free in Pyrderi, a kingdom of magic, mythical creatures, and a culture as open and kind as his homeland was cruel and close-minded. Despite his rescue, Jaime is not left without scars, both mental and physical. Traumatized by his experience and hiding his gift, Jaime struggles to earn his place in the kitchens of Angharad Palace, the heart of Taliesin City. His former life as a student of the healing arts leaves him at a disadvantage in the kitchens, and his damaged state is becoming more apparent by the day.

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.

Imagine coming home from an extended stay in a foreign country to find a letter from a house sitter you didn't hire warning you to get a protection order against your ex and informing you that you're a terrible plant dad. I mean, I am a terrible plant dad, and I probably should get a protection order against Stalker Steve, but that letter isn't the weirdest thing to happen to me today. I think the teleporting alien baby who's decided to make me their perch probably takes the prize for Weirdest Thing in Elijah Penn's Life.

After two thousand years of providing peace for his people, Notalus was ready to pass on his kingdom to his heir and live out the rest of his days gardening in his fields in the land of Autumn . . . alone. But the Gods had other plans for him. Notalus knew he should've stayed away from the Earth realm after Dustin Constus Hill—the handsome wolf and harvester for the Volkov pack-lands—had imprinted on his soul. Falling for such a divine mortal could not have come at a worse time.

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.

Boraleashe Cavalerie was the opposite of his titan brothers. He was stoic, disagreeable, and his attitude towards others was just as biting as his frost. All titans were required to gift their pure hearts to another—to fall in love—as praise to the divinities for their dominion over an element. Refusal to pledge their heart was considered an act of defiance to the gods. There would be judgment . . . and atonement.

Lucas used to be a normal person. Was it really so bad that he had a job he didn't like, and he still lived with his parents? At least he didn't have balls of light shooting out of him. Oh wait. Yes, he does. And he's not sure why it's happening or what to do about it. But it gets worse. Way worse and deadlier than Lucas had ever thought possible. Running for his life, he ends up in a small town named Saint Lakes and right into the arms of a dragon shifter who claims to be his fated mate.

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.

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.

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.

Jake is absolutely, completely ordinary, even if he has a weird painting affliction. Painting is relaxing, right? It helps. It's a form of art therapy. Even if his painting is the subconscious kind. The middle-of-the-night, paint-while-you-sleep kind. The kind that makes him puke every single time it happens. Okay. So, maybe that’s not exactly normal. But when a sexy but presumably imaginary guy with horns, who Jake's strange painterly alter-ego has been fixated on for the last year, suddenly shows up in town with horns and all, Jake doesn't know what to think.

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?

Not every minute of being a detective is spent solving huge murder cases. Sometimes it's the little ones that take up Detective Young's life, like the seventy-year-old cold case that suddenly fell into his lap or figuring out if a death was suicide or murder.

Xander Corey lives simply, sustainably, on the outskirts of Osprey, a small, quaint town in Upstate New York. He’s a librarian when the town’s budget can afford him, a good friend, kind neighbor, and also, a witch. And while that’s of no concern to anyone around him, there are others, non-humans, who have a vested interest in Xander’s family land. Xander knows something dark and dangerous is brewing. He’s just not quite sure what.

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.

Adam is not having a good day. First, he finds out his very long-time boyfriend has been having an affair. Then, his dramatic exit becomes a little too dramatic when he ends up dead. To top it off, he finds out that the afterlife isn't at all what he expected (he has no desire to learn to play the harp, thank you very much). Fortunately for him, some afterlife bureaucratic screw-up ends him up with the most smoking-hot demon he's ever seen, and he decides he's keeping him. Maybe the afterlife won't be so bad after all.

George Hunt can think of nothing he’d like more than to skip the high-society fundraiser where he has to guard a precocious seventeen-year-old girl and her judgmental therapist, but there’s no way out of it. If anything bad were to happen and he wasn’t there to stop it, he’d never forgive himself. So even though she’s grilling him about his dating life and the good doctor is psychoanalyzing him, he’s going to soldier on, because protecting his charges is what a knight does.

I’m such a cliché. Rich, successful… and bored out of my mind. A classic case of a midlife crisis probably, but instead of buying an expensive sports car, I go on a long business trip to Australia. Alone. I haven’t trusted myself to be with anyone since my best friend betrayed me, leaving me bleeding and heartbroken. Until a gorgeous surfer dude named Ocean falls into my lap. Literally. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Bossy, carefree, and somehow, he reads me like an open book. I agree to him staying with me in Melbourne so we can have a fling. With me in charge, obviously.

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.

Garrick Von Stein is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met, and yet, as soon as he calls me for help, I jump right in. Every single time. Why? I have no idea. I mean, I really do like to look at the dragon shifter king, but that doesn’t explain this strange pull, this need, I feel to be near him.

Hi, I'm Kit. Immortal vampire and technomage extraordinaire. You know how it goes. For the record, I am absolutely not stalking my reincarnated husband. Okay, I am, but it's for his own good. And mine. Er, assuming I can somehow figure out how to tell him he's reincarnated and a mage, and we all live in a sentient library. Any thoughts on that? I'm currently taking suggestions. One thing's for sure. He's not dying on me again. Never again.

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.

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!

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.