When my magic manifested at puberty, my parents sold me to the Illuminati. The Order of the Illuminati trained me as an assassin, spy, and thief. But when they sent me to steal a magical artifact that reveals Truth in all things, I discovered that I was working for the Dark and not the Light. The Illuminati trained me well, and paid the ultimate price for their deception.

My name is Danica James. I'm a cop with the Arcane Division. Most mages have the ability to manipulate the elements - fire, water, air, earth, electricity. My magic only works on machines and electrical devices. They call me a magitek. That doesn't help much with demons and vampires, let alone criminals with lethal magikal powers.

When a man came into my shop in the Great Marketplace at the Crossroads of the Worlds and tried to kill me, it completely ruined my day. Not only did I have to clean up the blood, but disposing of his body made me late to meet my friends for drinks. A nagging little detail kept bugging me, though. As he died, he said he was hired by my mother's family—people I hadn't seen for more than a decade. Then I discovered that assassins had made attempts on my brother and sister as well. As much as I didn't want to, I decided I should find out who wanted us dead, and put a stop to it.

When a jaguar shifter drops in and asks for help in tracking down an ancient blood-magic statuette, I say no thank you. I learned a long time ago the key to survival is keeping a low profile. But it's hard to ignore an artifact of the gods powerful enough to blow holes in reality. Enter stalker werewolves in a black Mercedes and magicians trying to capture me. They all think I know where the damned statue is. Then I'm attacked by demons. It wouldn't be so bad, but some of them are really rude. Being rude is a capital crime where I come from. Time for a lesson in manners.

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.

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.

Kira Forrest is a survivor. She's risen above the pain of her beginnings to become a war hero only to leave it all behind in the pursuit of a simple life. Now a salvager, she makes a living sifting through the wreckage of dead alien ships from a war that nearly brought humanity to its knees. After her ship takes damage, she's forced to re-route to a space station where her past and present collide with dangerous consequences. Kira's existence holds the key to a faltering peace treaty with the Tuann - a technologically advanced alien race who dislikes and distrusts all humans.

I’m Val Thorvald, and I’m an assassin. When magical bad guys hurt people, I take care of them. Permanently. This doesn’t make me popular with the rest of the magical community — as you can tell from the numerous break-ins and assassination attempts I’ve endured over the years. But thanks to my half-elven blood, a powerful sword named Chopper, and a telepathic tiger with an attitude, I’ve always been able to handle my problems with aplomb. Maybe some cursing and swearing, too, but definitely aplomb.

Baker turned werewolf - there’s no way this could go wrong. Rosalyn Mercier had a clear dream in life - to become a baker for the rich and famous. She spent the first 24 years of her life working towards that. Then she was bitten by a rogue loup garou (that’s a wolf shifter to non-supernaturals), and that dream went up in a puff of vanilla-scented smoke. The council of supernaturals task Rosalyn with tracking down the rogue and bringing them to justice. She’s put under the watchful eye of brooding alpha with a dark past, Cole Loxwood.

Remember that old line about how the only way out of the organization is in a pine box? Well, Rue Hollis spent 10 years thinking she had escaped the Black Hat Bureau, no coffin required. Then her former partner had to go and shatter the illusion by showing up on her doorstep with grim tidings.

I’m one placement away from becoming a fully fledged London detective. It’s bad enough that my last assignment before I qualify is with Supernatural Squad. But that’s nothing compared to what happens next. Brutally murdered by an unknown assailant, I wake up 12 hours later in the morgue - and I’m very much alive. I don’t know how or why it happened. I don’t know who killed me. All I know is that they might try again.

In a world where magic and science sit side by side, and powerful witches are considered necessary aides for all governments, Lizzie Grace is something of an outlier. Though born into one of the most powerful blue blood witch families, she wants nothing to do with either her past or her magic.

I wouldn’t say my life is a dumpster fire — but it’s far from typical. I’m frenemies with the local werewolves’ Alpha, my clients are shady as hell, and my magic falls firmly in the WTF category. Mephisto, my mysterious and powerful client, is more interested in my magic than the jobs he’s hired me for. And I’m pretty sure my court-ordered therapist thinks I’m an ass.

I have family I didn't know about, a magical heritage laying its claim, and a mystery I apparently need to solve. But when a back-alley brawl leaves me marked with a bizarre Celtic crest on my back, I become a beacon for all things whacked and weird.

As a bookish, introverted database programmer, Morgen Keller never thought she was a candidate for a midlife crisis. That was before her husband divorced her, her boss let her go, and her grandmother died. Forty wasn’t supposed to look like this. When Morgen heads up to the small town of Bellrock, Washington, to settle the estate, she looks forward to taking a peaceful break from life and figuring out what she’s going to do next. But peace isn’t to be had.

When a jaguar shifter drops in and asks for help in tracking down an ancient blood-magic statuette, I say no thank you. I learned a long time ago the key to survival is keeping a low profile. But it's hard to ignore an artifact of the gods powerful enough to blow holes in reality. Enter stalker werewolves in a black Mercedes and magicians trying to capture me. They all think I know where the damned statue is. Then I'm attacked by demons. It wouldn't be so bad, but some of them are really rude. Being rude is a capital crime where I come from. Time for a lesson in manners.

When a man came into my shop in the Great Marketplace at the Crossroads of the Worlds and tried to kill me, it completely ruined my day. Not only did I have to clean up the blood, but disposing of his body made me late to meet my friends for drinks. A nagging little detail kept bugging me, though. As he died, he said he was hired by my mother's family—people I hadn't seen for more than a decade. Then I discovered that assassins had made attempts on my brother and sister as well. As much as I didn't want to, I decided I should find out who wanted us dead, and put a stop to it.

My name is Danica James. I'm a cop with the Arcane Division. Most mages have the ability to manipulate the elements - fire, water, air, earth, electricity. My magic only works on machines and electrical devices. They call me a magitek. That doesn't help much with demons and vampires, let alone criminals with lethal magikal powers.

When my magic manifested at puberty, my parents sold me to the Illuminati. The Order of the Illuminati trained me as an assassin, spy, and thief. But when they sent me to steal a magical artifact that reveals Truth in all things, I discovered that I was working for the Dark and not the Light. The Illuminati trained me well, and paid the ultimate price for their deception.

When Savanna Robinson showed up at Wicklow College to assume her new teaching position, she was somewhat curious about the abrupt departure of her predecessor. Then she discovered he had been murdered. No one knew who killed him, or why, but everyone had their theories and suspects. Even the police—arcane and mundane—didn't seem very eager to investigate too deeply. But Savanna discovered a possible connection with the murder of a broker of rare arcane books. Were there really spells that could change your luck?