Immortality sucks. Just ask Imogen Gray—over two hundred thousand years old and teetering on the edge of total insanity. All throughout history, she's been hunted by an ancient creature who finds her and rips her to pieces every time she dares to access her deepest powers. But Imogen always regenerates. Slowly. Painfully.

Okay, I might be seriously under-qualified for the job of Enforcer, I'll admit. The Enforcer is supposed to be a human, for starters. It's usually an ex-special forces guy with big muscles and even bigger balls, and a knack for sorting out petty squabbles between the witches and vampires and shifters in the city. And I'm just a technically dead nail tech—an animated skeleton with a talent for illusion magic and gold gel manicures. But I've recently discovered that I can manifest some pretty big muscles of my own. I've already got the big balls, so I'm halfway there.

The horror of waking up from the best dream ever and remembering you're a monster is indescribable. My soul is screaming for mercy, for forgiveness, for redemption…but I know I'll never get it.

I can turn into a housecat. It’s a fun magic, except in a world filled with vampires and werewolves, it doesn’t exactly make me a powerhouse. Instead, the supernatural community has classified me as an outcast, which means one thing: picking on me is open season all day, every day. The local fae are the worst of all, and it’s during one of their regular “capture the cat-girl” sessions that I shift into my cat form and meet HIM for the first time.

One moment, Susan Moore had a perfect life—a handsome husband, a fabulous career, wonderful friends, and a gorgeous home in Pacific Heights, San Francisco. The next minute, it was all gone. And Susan found herself in a straitjacket, locked in a padded room.

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

Mackenzie works for Catch and Release, a bounty-hunting guild, and she loves her job. She goes after the usual suspects: Rogue vampires, feral shifters, and crazed mages. Nightmare stuff. The last thing she ever imagined was Lucan, an infuriating and high-ranking dragon shifter, hiring her to find a child kidnapped from his Tribe. Even though her magical talents lean more towards bodyguarding and hunting dangerous beings, condemning a kid to death isn't who she is. But as Mackenzie gets deeper into her hunt, she uncovers deadly secrets surrounding the child, the kidnapper, and Lucan himself...

The shape-changers believe the Erith are guilty of murder. And Arrow is in the middle of potential new war between the old enemies. Not only is her freedom at risk, but so is her life. It will take all of her training and skill with magic to live long enough to uncover the truth in time to avert a bloodbath. Concealed is the first book of Arrow's story, set in an alternate world where magic and technology exist side by side. If you like your fantasy mixed with mystery and spells, then you'll love this debut series by Vanessa Nelson.

Mary Frances Talbot—Frankie—is a necromancer, probably. Hard to say since she never met her parents. She can see the dead, talk to the dead, and a few other things that aren't strictly legal. It's fine. No worries. As long as she doesn't get caught. The whole not getting caught thing was going well until Samuel Harrow blew back into town wearing a Savannah Police Department uniform. He might be a witch, but he hates magic. He's not a fan of Frankie either. Which explains why he's her ex.

Aviva Fleischer hides a dangerous secret. She’s carefully concealing her infernal heritage, a.k.a. Cherry Bomb. Maybe it’s weird naming her demon side and referring to her in the third person, but guys do the same with their junk, and unlike most of them, Avi isn’t deluded about Cherry’s prowess.

A dragon, a fae, and a pixie walk into a bookstore… Sounds like a joke, right? For me, it's just an ordinary day on the job. At least, it has been ever since my aunt disappeared and left me with her store, her cat, and a whole lot of unanswered questions. My whole life, I've been told to stay hidden. Pretend I'm human. Sell books, drink tea, and never betray the truth of what I am. But it turns out my aunt had secrets, and a lot of those secrets seem to involve me ending up dead. To survive, I'm going to have to reckon with my past, even if it means placing my trust in a total stranger.

Arwen Forester may be a socially awkward introvert, but she’s an expert tracker, archer, and forager who has a pickling recipe for every vegetable in the garden. Unfortunately, none of these skills earn her a lot of money. And when the taxes go up on her father’s farm, she’s not sure how to help him keep the property. Then someone offers her a lucrative new gig: Hunt down a haughty half-dragon criminal with the power to incinerate those who irritate him.

By night, they fight in a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse. By day, they are friendly next-door neighbors. Neither of them know that their alter egos are archenemies. I’ve spent my life training in the family business of slaying vampires, but I’m tired of all the death. I want to prove we slayers can help society, not just break it. I start my new life by joining the Magiford supernatural task force, which exists to protect humans and supernaturals from harmful magic.

It's hard enough being an undergraduate student, an intern at Downtown Manhattan's police station, and a bouncer at a local bar. Add her now ex-boyfriend who recently dumped her for the school's resident bimbo - oh, and she's a werewolf.

Welcome to The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar. I'm Sam Quinn, the werewolf book nerd in charge. I run my business by one simple rule: Everyone needs a good book and a stiff drink, be they vampire, wicche, demon, or fae. No wolves, though. Ever. I serve the supernatural community of San Francisco. We've been having some problems lately. Okay, I'm the one with the problems. The broken body of a female werewolf washed up on my doorstep. What makes sweat pool at the base of my spine, though, is realizing the scars she bears are identical to the ones I conceal.