Um. Um. Um. Are you reading this? If you are, I need your help. I was at a party; I was running; I fell. And get this - this is the part you'll never believe - I fell down a rabbit hole. Like Alice in those old books. Except in those books, there wasn't blood everywhere. In those books, the characters weren't all male, attractive, and interested in me.

After my nightmarish past, starting fresh should be a dream come true. But when my father’s death leaves me on the run, I have no choice but to seek shelter with the only family I have left: an uncle I’ve never even met.

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.

I’d been prom queen and cheer captain—high school’s most savage Queen Bee. I could have everything I wanted. Except them. The freaks, the weirdos, the school’s ultimate losers: Manson, Jason, Lucas, and Vincent. Our hatred for each other couldn’t keep us apart, not even when my own mistake got Manson expelled and made me the ultimate villain to the rest of them.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had to hide who I am. What I am. They had me play the sheep. They had me blend in. They marked me and sealed my power. Now I have my freedom, because everyone who’s ever wanted me confined is dead. I could have changed it. I could have altered the course of fate. I could have saved the unseelie queen. I didn’t.

Born to a family of elegant yet shallow Beige Witches, 17-year-old Hazel loves brightly colored cupcakes. Her Beige game is so weak, she can't even pull off a proper messy bun spell, a level one hair glamour. Hazel 's resigned to never being good enough...till she discovers she was never meant to be a Beige Witch at all. But when her magical abilities take off, not everyone in Hazel's orbit is thrilled to see the forgotten middle sister finally owning her power.

The Lords own me, and they are never going to let me go. At least, that’s what they tell me. Lord Alaric Cross. Lord Gideon St. Claire. Lord Sterling Beauchamp. Lord Theodore Wolf. Four brooding men who make my worst nightmares seem tame. To the public, they are titled aristocrats with royal lineage. In secret, they make up the Lords of Darkness—an ancient order that rules the underbelly of England with a lethal, iron fist, leaving skeletons in their wake. And as fate would have it, my father was the fifth Lord of Darkness. His sudden death means I am now a Lady of Darkness.

Agenor, Lord Protector of the Fae Isles and right hand of the Mother herself, doesn’t expect anything to still surprise him after twelve centuries of life. Finding a taunting note from an anonymous thief in his wardrobe is enough to rouse his curiosity, though. Enough to do the unthinkable—write back. Then he finds out he’s been exchanging letters with a humble human. Worse, a human challenging him to his face.

I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

Rowe Prince is many things. But when it turns out Rowe’s lies conceal a secret that threatens the company I’ve spent years building, I have to choose: say goodbye to the sweet pretender I’m falling for, or risk everything for a man who just might be… the prince of lies.

Sameerixis, or Sam for those who actually know him, isn’t what you’d call normal. He’s a door-to-door salesman, of sorts. One that peddles wares, wishes, and whims to anyone willing to pay his prices. Prices that usually involve a few years of your life, maybe a handful of days, or a single night of pleasure that’ll cost a few hours. He’s an incubus that solves problems. Mental, emotional, spiritual, material, and anything and everything in between. Sam can provide an answer and resolution.

If I had to describe Sean Bailey, it would be: A surly, temperamental pain in my ass. Never in that equation would I ever include the word boyfriend - and not just because he’s straight. The older brother of my life-long best friend, Sean is a detective for the Chicago PD, and is also known as Detective “Dick” for being...well, a surly, temperamental pain in everyone’s ass. He also happens to be the best they have, which is why I find myself on his doorstep the night my life is threatened by an anonymous stalker.

Michael Sebastian thought that Curacao would be the perfect place to have a little fun in the sun - and between the sheets. So far no one has struck his interest - until Sam Anderson walks into the bar. With one look at his tense body and expensive suit, Michael knows that this is a man in need of release. And Michael is more than willing to lend a hand.

How did the worst date of his life turn in to the man of his dreams? Carter Winter’s not sure there’s anything worse than watching the man he’s on a date with slip his number to the bartender...except maybe finding out six months later that his bad date is his new boss who doesn't seem to remember Carter or that night. He wants to run, but he also knows he can’t pass up this opportunity. After all, it's been his dream to work at London Enterprise, and he can't turn it down now, even if it means working as a PA for Rhys London.

When I showed up at my roommate's work party, the last thing I expected was to find a man straight out of my dreams. But when the crowd parted and the fates aligned, there he was, waiting for me. Marcus St. James, president of ENN WorldWide News. Sexy and powerful, with a stare that could freeze you in place, Marcus was the perfect reward for securing a job at Mitchell & Madison, the best law firm in Chicago. To play with the big fish, however, one must become a big fish, and that's where my little white lie began.