Cora and Hudson are in the middle of the mating dance, meaning he's overbearing, obsessed, and a little unhinged. The heat is on from both of their families to tie the knot officially. However, when White Castle is suddenly overrun with an army of ghosts, Cora and the gang get sucked into another supernatural disaster. At the center of the chaos? Eloise Roberts. But to wield that kind of power, she'd need more than demons, shifters, or vampires—she'd need a deity.

The fact that she’s a werecat is just something she’s had to live with Alone in her territory, she’s lived a secretive life for six years: under the radar, avoiding her past and the baggage that comes with it. Trouble finds Jacky, though, in the form of an 11-year-old girl and a werewolf turf war just outside her borders. Forced to honor an ancient treaty and the Laws of the supernatural world, Jacky swears an oath to protect Carey Everson, the human daughter of a local werewolf Alpha from Dallas.

Everyone’s welcome at the Stag—vampire, wolf or human. As long as they don’t make trouble. Or ask too many questions about what we’re selling out of the back room. I keep the beers coming, and in return the town keeps my secret. But when a gang of deadly vampires shows up at the bar, it’s clear they’re not looking for a drink. They want to take my business. Or my blood. But this is more than just a shake down. All over town, people are dropping like flies. Disappearing or attacking their neighbors. It’s like they’re possessed. And someone—or something—is pulling the strings.

Lorelei Clay isn’t like other people. She isn’t even like other supernaturals. Her specialties are the nightmares of the living, communication with the dead, and cooking bacon until it’s golden brown and perfectly crispy—no magic required.

Kit McCafferty's life is quiet, unremarkable, and filled with cat hair. In the magical city of Coldstream, located on the border between Scotland and England, Kit is viewed as little more than mildly eccentric and mostly harmless. She passes her days caring for her family of five cats, feeding the local feral moggies, and maintaining relatively good relations with her neighbors. All that changes, however, when a teenage werewolf shows up at her door in the desperate hope of renting out a nearby vacant flat.

When a body is found pulverised beyond recognition, I’m called to investigate. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, it’s my job to handle the cases the Common police can’t. This one has all the hallmarks of the Other Realm—especially when I find a talking bird caged at the scene.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Meet Darby. Coffee addict. Homicide detective. Oh, and she can see ghosts, too. There are only three rules in Darby Adler's life. One: Don't talk to the dead in front of the living. Two: Stay off the Arcane Bureau of Investigation's radar. Three: Don't forget rules one and two.

I'm Arwyn Cassandra Corey, the sea wicche, or the wicche who lives by the sea. It requires a lot more work than I'd anticipated to remodel an abandoned cannery and turn it into an art gallery & tea bar. It's coming along, though, especially with the help of a new werewolf who's joined the construction crew. He does beautiful work. His sexy, growly, bearded presence is very hard to ignore, but I'm trying. I'm not sure how such a laid-back guy got the local Alpha and his pack threatening to hunt him down and tear him apart, but we all have our secrets.

Never stop running. And no matter what, never let the world know who you really are. I’ve spent my whole life hiding. Training. Preparing. Hoping that no one will discover my secrets. What I can do. Who I am. And I’ve gotten so good at it, sometimes even I forget. Until them. The wolf pack with a ruthless reputation and a penchant for revenge. The protective fighter. The charming Brit. The shy hacker. The silent mercenary. The cruel assassin. They see more than anyone ever has before. And even with demons of their own, they give me sanctuary.

A deadly assassin. A desperate witch. A past that won’t stay buried. I’m Amber DeLea—ambitious witch, potion mistress extraordinaire, and daughter to a woman slipping further away each day. My life is a constant battle, whether it’s cursed runes, treacherous coven politics, or dark forces closing in. But nothing haunts me more than my mother’s unravelling mind, and I’m running out of time to find a cure. The last thing I need is Bastion—the deadly griffin assassin who shattered my world—being ordered to protect me.

Helen Harper presents Book 3 in the Cat Lady Chronicles.

Marla’s ancestors saddled her with frizzy red hair, sarcasm on tap, the Gawama last name, and the urge to run from her problems. Her bloodline was also supposed to guarantee she’d be a powerful witch. She isn’t, not by a long shot. Only those with magic are allowed in her hometown. Now that her teenage children are awakening, and sparking enough power to be a fire hazard, she’s headed back. Even if she isn’t ready. Even if she’s fresh out of divorce court. But then Marla and her kids all but blow up the town on day one.

How far would you go to protect a secret that causes the dark supernatural world to hunt you? Who would you hurt to prevent a prophecy from wiping out everyone on the planet? When Natia Waterford, defender of humankind and self-declared badass, is sent to investigate a series of kidnappings, she’s forced to step into the world of the arrogant Archan Reinheart.

Meet Darby. Coffee addict. Homicide detective. Oh, and she can see ghosts, too. There are only three rules in Darby Adler's life. One: Don't talk to the dead in front of the living. Two: Stay off the Arcane Bureau of Investigation's radar. Three: Don't forget rules one and two.

I have huge man problems—literally—since one of my mates is a T-Rex. Things are about to get interesting, because my day job happens to be in a museum, a museum full of dinosaur bones, if you know what I mean. It turns out my bloodline is older than dirt, and an ancestral matchmaker decided to send me some gifts…aka, men. And not just any men, but dinosaur shifters from the past.

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.

I have died a hundred times in a hundred different ways, usually at the hands of the humans I've tried to save. But when a pregnant young woman finds her way into my tattoo shop with a demon on her tail, things go from bad to worse. Being a centuries-old witch isn't going to help me—nothing will.

A simple promise I made to myself after escaping a brutal childhood of abuse and being trained to enact violence on unblessed witches. Since that moment, I've managed to survive on the streets by successfully pickpocketing. Unfortunately, after years of hiding, the monster who stars in all my nightmares is closer than ever, and I'm faced with only one option—to seek refuge at the Dark Imaginarium Academy. The Academy is filled with the elite witches of our society. I should have expected I'd run into some of my previous targets. Normally, that wouldn't be a proble—except for my last hit.

I’ve made it my mission to be useful to my pack. As pack enforcer, I’m fast and strong, but when the time comes to bond with my mate, it isn’t enough. Rejection means lone wolf status and isolation from the pack. But when a package arrives with an unexpected inheritance, the pack that wants to shun me suddenly has a new use for me. Turns out, I’m the proud owner of a house in mysterious territory, rumored to be home to a pack of beautifully twisted shifters. Hawthorne Cove is impregnable to Lycans, but not to a half-human like me.

As the daughter of Dracula, you would think I’d be born the perfect monster. You couldn’t be more wrong. As far as monsters go, I’m a screw up—if I’m not tripping over my own feet, I’m accidentally murdering someone (it’s a real issue, guys). Left with no choice, Dad decides to send me to Prodigium—otherwise known as Monster Academy—to train me on how to be a better monster. When bodies turn up on campus, I’m the prime suspect (not that I can blame them).

Nora Hart is twenty-four years old, but she's lost everything, rebuilt her life, fought through grief and worse, all while managing to avoid the shifter world that broke her in the first place. Despite her near death and struggle for survival all on her own, she's done quite well and has created a pretty normal life for herself. Despite all that, fate isn't done messing with her.

The first time I see my high school crush since graduation, I’m a 30-year-old woman laying on the table for a pap smear. He’s the hot, newly single doctor who just moved back to his hometown, hoping to find some stability for his daughter. Meanwhile, I’m a hot mess, just fired from my job and ousted from company housing. I’m living in my old bedroom and trying to get my appointments in before my insurance runs out along with what little is left of my money.

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...

Shadowmoor has forged me into who I am today, and I have the mark and scars to prove it. I never thought I'd see the light again, but it seems destiny has other plans for me. My father's arrival means life as I know it is about to change. Silvercrest Academy trains and prepares the most gifted and privileged among us for their future contributions to the Monarchy. I may come from the right family, but I am a void.

I’ve walked the streets of Phoenix Valley for twenty two years knowing exactly who I am: an orphan, a human, a nobody. Summoned by The Hex to test my humanity, I was prepared to fail, destined to be the same mundane girl. I was wrong. Pandora’s Box called to me, sensing a magic I never knew existed. With my world turned upside down and full of possibilities, I must now call Paradise Heights home. To live amongst supernaturals, attend Saints Academy, and find my place.

Elyseans are so wise… Elyseans are so beautiful…. Elyseans are divine… Elyseans are power-hungry assholes with a god complex. Yes, I said it. Sue me and bring out your pitchforks. Unfortunately for me, the deadly Elysean Trials are right around the corner. Despite my unpopular opinion of them and anything Olympian-gods related, when they unleash their strange blue birds to select mortals around the country as candidates, one of them chooses me.