Tristan Everett has always preferred the company of the dead because they usually don't talk back. Being a somewhat awkward introvert working as a pathologist at the Hackney Public Mortuary suits him just fine. That is, until a freak accident with a rogue ice cube and suddenly he can see ghosts. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any weirder, sassy drag queen, Dusty Le Frey, is wheeled in with a toe tag and she's not prepared to go quietly into the light.

Fred Brennan's father was a brutal man, both professionally and personally. When the kingpin died, Fred welcomed it, but not the brutal role he was thrust into. As a doctor, he's devoted his life to helping people. The last thing he wants is to fill his father's shoes, but after three years, he's no closer to offloading his dad's title onto someone else. As a mafia boss, he's forced to deal with the elite assassin organization, Lex Talionis . . . bringing him face to face with the man who runs it.

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?

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!

I’ve never been attracted to guys. I definitely would never be attracted to a privileged, cocky bastard like Brad Henning. Even though I’ve only been at St. Lawrence University for a few weeks, this prick and his friends are on a mission to mess with me—a scholarship kid who I guess they don’t think belongs at a prestigious school intended for the nation’s elite.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Who are we? Nobody really knows. We’re seven powerful heirs to empires, ruling Manhattan from our thrones on Park Avenue. By day, we’re the elite, untouchable, and more connected than you could ever imagine. By night, we revel in the darkness of our secrets, pulling strings that make the city bow to our whims.

This week hasn’t gone the best for me unless you count Casimir, the sexy ancient vampire, bringing me back from the brink of death (and tying my fate to his in the process). Not that it matters if the werewolves and vampires don’t stop their ridiculous feud, because someone is targeting them and widening the divide between our communities with each body they leave in their wake. But as the alpha’s son, I have a plan to fix everything. I’m going to convince Casimir to fake date me to show the others that we can work together. I mean… what could go wrong?

A thousand years ago, my great-something uncle founded the Collective, a secret organization dedicated to protecting humanity from demons. The hunter tradition has been passed down over the generations, from parent to child, secure in the knowledge that the Collective is a community of safety and knowledge. But betrayal sucks, and six years ago, it turned my world—and the Collective—upside down. After generations of deception, the hunters left behind are picking up the pieces and trying something we’ve never done before—working side by side with our enemy.

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.

Alpha of the Hellhound enforcers, Derek doesn't think he has time for a mate until the Paranormal Council of the city gives him one. Hollis is a smart, funny, vulnerable human, and his police commissioner uncle has designs to use Hollis's new mating for his own ends. He'll learn quickly not to mess with a hellhound's mate.

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.