Danny Kingman is used to fending for himself. Working nonstop as an ER nurse to pay for his mother’s care, he’s been putting his own life on hold for as long as he can remember. But when an unbelievably hot, strangely intense man saves him from a mugging, Danny has a feeling everything is about to change. Especially when that man suddenly pops out a pair of fangs.

Sascha has always felt powerless, the weak baby of a cruel family. But that’s fine. He has his looks, his ample allowance, and a smattering of one-night stands to keep him busy. But when Sascha’s oldest brother offends the wrong people, Sascha finds himself in hiding with a target on his back. And when poking around in his temporary home leads to accidentally summoning the hottest demon Sascha could ever imagine, he has to ask himself: does he want to feel powerless anymore?

Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

Over a century ago, my alpha lost the one he loved. And so did I. My love for Danny’s wife is my deepest, darkest secret. All these years later, Danny has moved on and found a new love. I wish I could do the same. I’m stuck in a rut, going through the same routine day after day. Leading the clan is my motivation, but it’s not enough to fill the emptiness inside. That is, until I meet Chester. The quiet human florist has been hurt in the past. Someone has forced him to bury the person he once was, but I see flashes of him during our interactions, and every glimpse has me desperate to know more.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Lake Forrester III entered my life like a wrecking ball. Drake Security, my firm with my brothers, was hired to protect him from a stalker ex, but what Lake doesn’t know is that he’s not dealing with your average unhinged human. The unhinged wolf shifter he unknowingly dated will stop at nothing to get Lake in his clutches. Just another day in the life of a dragon body guard.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

Leander Mast didn’t ask to come to Rivenfield, and he definitely didn’t ask to be thrust into the middle of a neighborhood battle over an ancient tree, but as a Giwoggle—who goes wherever a witch might conjure him—he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. And Leander definitely doesn’t count on getting stuck. While Leander attempts to get home, struggling against the magic keeping him from stepping outside the town limits, he butts heads with Ben, his new grumpy neighbor. And it doesn’t help that Leander cut down Ben’s tree.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

Tristan Everett has always preferred the company of the dead because they usually don't talk back. Being a somewhat awkward introvert working as a pathologist at the Hackney Public Mortuary suits him just fine. That is, until a freak accident with a rogue ice cube and suddenly he can see ghosts. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any weirder, sassy drag queen, Dusty Le Frey, is wheeled in with a toe tag and she's not prepared to go quietly into the light.

Vlad has lived longer than he has a right to, and the last hundred years have gone terribly, beginning with the death of his oldest friend and culminating in a hunter trying to invade his grandson’s estate. The presence of Kain could spell disaster for his court, but when he discovers that the Hellsing family had a seventh-born son of a seventh-born son, pointing out a flaw in his spy network, Vlad decided to keep the man with him. A decision that has absolutely nothing to do with how pretty the young hunter looks with defiance in his eyes and venom on his tongue.

Ferryman. The Grim Reaper. La Muerte. La Pelona. Shinigami. Charon. I've been called many names over the millennia, all thanks to my role in Hell—ferrying dead souls over the river Styx. Few know the demon behind the legend, how I came to be here, or the freedom I sacrificed to save the man I love.

I'd lived my whole life with a terminal illness, knowing I'd never be normal. I existed, taking it one day at a time with my dog as my sole, faithful companion. Then one day, Fate intervened and an encounter with a beautiful man gave me something I'd never had before: Hope. Raphael was kind, sweet, and almost...magical. I'd never believed in magic before I met him, but now, I wasn't so sure.

I’ve been alive for millennia and have yet to meet my fated mate. It’s not something I’ve ever cared about; my heart already belongs to another. Someone I can’t have. Someone who doesn’t want me. Now I know we’ll never be together. Unlike me, he’s found his fated mates. Two of them. That’s fine. As leader of the Seraphim, Heaven’s most elite unit of angels, I don’t have time for love.

Danny Kingman is used to fending for himself. Working nonstop as an ER nurse to pay for his mother’s care, he’s been putting his own life on hold for as long as he can remember. But when an unbelievably hot, strangely intense man saves him from a mugging, Danny has a feeling everything is about to change. Especially when that man suddenly pops out a pair of fangs.

Sascha has always felt powerless, the weak baby of a cruel family. But that’s fine. He has his looks, his ample allowance, and a smattering of one-night stands to keep him busy. But when Sascha’s oldest brother offends the wrong people, Sascha finds himself in hiding with a target on his back. And when poking around in his temporary home leads to accidentally summoning the hottest demon Sascha could ever imagine, he has to ask himself: does he want to feel powerless anymore?

All people see when they look at me is a beautiful man, a supermodel, half of the world’s most famous twins. No one sees the man underneath. When I return to Forestville, the small town I grew up in, for my high school reunion, I impulsively decide to stay.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Ferryman. The Grim Reaper. La Muerte. La Pelona. Shinigami. Charon. I've been called many names over the millennia, all thanks to my role in Hell—ferrying dead souls over the river Styx. Few know the demon behind the legend, how I came to be here, or the freedom I sacrificed to save the man I love.

The Firm has ruled St. Dismas for generations. To most, they’re just a myth. But in truth, they are the last resort of the desperate. I never understood why anyone would go to The Firm. There’s always a price to pay—a price you won’t discover until your request has been granted. It was a path I swore I’d never walk. Or so I thought. When my brother is gravely injured, everything changes. I have no choice but to go to The Firm. I don’t know what they’ll ask of me, but I’ll give anything to save Jackson. He has his whole life ahead of him, and I’ll make sure he gets to live it.

Nick has no direction in his life, as his mother often reminds him. He works paycheck to paycheck, which becomes a problem when the paychecks stop coming in. When he's offered an opportunity to work off his rent, Nick decides there are worse things in life than being a super, especially when the job includes free rent. There is, however, a catch. His landlord is a vampire, and he needs more from Nick than maintenance and renter-wrangling. He needs Nick's blood.

Trapped in nightmares from my past, the only comfort I find is in gifts from the man who killed my mother's killer—presents wrapped in a body bag and delivered to the morgue for me to examine. From the first time I saw his mark, I knew I had to keep my killer safe, had to keep his work a secret for me and me alone. Every body is a love letter, and I'm the only one who can read them.

I’ve never been attracted to guys. I definitely would never be attracted to a privileged, cocky bastard like Brad Henning. Even though I’ve only been at St. Lawrence University for a few weeks, this prick and his friends are on a mission to mess with me—a scholarship kid who I guess they don’t think belongs at a prestigious school intended for the nation’s elite.