"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.

Divorced, desperate, and destitute, former restaurateur Defiance Dayne finds out she has been bequeathed a house by a complete stranger. She is surprised, to say the least, and her curiosity gets the better of her. She leaves her beloved Phoenix and heads to one of the most infamous towns in America: Salem, Massachusetts. She's only there to find out why a woman she's never met would leave her a house, a veritable castle that has seen better days.

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.

I knew hot flashes were supposed to be hot, but I didn't expect flames. One day I'm in anger management, normalizing the cordial hate between me and my husband. The next, we're divorced, and he has taken both our house and the business we built together. I'm 40 years old and living above our empty restaurant, plotting my next move. And then the world around starts lighting up - literally catching on fire. I'm starting to think my defining characteristic may not be my snark or my cupcake-baking prowess, but spontaneous combustion.

If you want to know who unalived you, I'm your girl. Evanora Lavinia Dark at your service! Heart attack/stroke/open-heart surgery survivor, new-lease-on-life starter, astral-projecting-ghost-talker. And most importantly, a witch over fifty with bursitis, blood pressure meds, and zero effs to give. I'm done with corporate life. So I moved back to my hometown and my passion. Interior design. Nowadays, you can find me happily decorating houses for my best friend, house flipper, and real estate agent, Fabiola Fabrizio. There's only one problem. Ghosts.

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

“I’m leaving.” Two shocking words, torching a marriage of over 20 years. Totally blindsided, Shannon, a middle-aged stay-at-home mom, is traded in for a newer model. One of the few possessions her cheating ex didn’t swipe was the mountain resort she inherited from her dear Aunt Maeve. With limited funds and bleak job prospects, the decrepit resort is a lifeline! Shannon discovers a wishing well in her forest and learns that magic is real. Who has time for bitterness when there’s a world of magical witchcraft to learn?

Four months of wallowing in embarrassed depression should be enough. I’m beginning to realize that no one is who they seem to be, and my life story might be spinning out of my control. It’s time to take a shower, put on a bra, and wear something other than sweatpants. Difficult, but doable. With my friends - real and imaginary - by my side, I need to edit my life before the elusive darkness comes for all of us.

No one ever told me what to do if I ended up 40-something, divorced, and jobless. When my ex knocks at my door with his new girlfriend, I somehow manage to turn them into toads. But that's not possible, right? Still, my ex-husband's car is in the driveway, and he's nowhere to be found. Which doesn't look great for me. So I do the only rational thing I can think of...I run for it, straight back to the small town I grew up in. Mystic Hollow is exactly the way I remember it, except now it seems that everything I thought was normal and boring is supernatural.

When 49-year-old Belladonna Barrone’s mobbed-up husband does her the favor of dying in a car accident, she thinks she’s finally free of the crime family she unwittingly married into. Then the boss tells her that she has to complete her husband’s last job before that freedom is truly hers. No big deal, she figures. Until things go south in ways she never imagined. Suddenly she’s thrust into a whole new world that makes the mob look like kindergarten. Vampires and werewolves are real? How is that freaking possible?

They say that by the age of 40 you should have gained the skills and experience to have a better life. But the only thing I've gained is a job promotion to permanent desk jockey until retirement. I thought I escaped my mediocre destiny when I met my husband...until he died on our honeymoon and a series of unfortunate events left me with a strange mark on my body and my husband's corpse stolen right out of the funeral home!

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.

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.

After finding my soon-to-be ex-husband together with my soon-to-be ex-assistant, I realize his "for better or for worse" didn't include my 40s. An extended vacation on a remote Italian island sounds like the perfect antidote to a midlife crisis - until I arrive. I'm expecting Chianti and pasta. What I get is a run-down bed-and-breakfast with the oldest Nonna in existence. There's something about this island. Something odd. Like how everyone keeps calling me Mamma or how I'm the first tourist in decades.

For my forty-fifth birthday, I planned to treat myself to a spa day with my bestie. But instead, my late husband's insurance broker drops by to let me know that not only am I still widowed but my husband's insurance policies are being paid to his other wife-and his other family. The next thing I know, I'm being romanced by an Indiana Jones wannabe who arrives like a dervish to sweep me off my feet. One thing leads to another, but before anything happens, Indy goes missing, the place is trashed, and I've got myself a glowing snake tattoo that seems to be talking to me about magic.