Antique store owner and ostracized paranormal hunter, Blair Braden lives a quiet small-town life, running her antique shop and minding her business. Life is good and drama free. Until Lachlan James, her baby-daddy, Alpha of the local wolf pack, and a very good friend comes to her for help. One of his wolves is being haunted, and Blair is just the non-hunter for the job. She's got an affinity for hauntings, despite not technically being a hunter anymore.

Widow and empty nester Ava Harper never dreamed of turning 40 without the love of her life. Nor did she know she would bury her favorite aunt, who raised her after the death of her mother, a few years later. Then again, she doesn't have the power of foresight. No, her powers are much darker. With her only son off to college and her life savings depleted, Ava returns home to Shipton Harbor, Maine. When an old friend of the family turns up dead, Ava must delve deep into the powers she's repressed all her adult life to find the killer. Now she must open up to her own wells of dark magic.

After seeing her maybe-mobster boss murder a guy, Delaney James assumes a new identity and pretends to be a mail order bride. She finds her groom-to-be living in a town that celebrates Halloween every day. Weird. But not as weird as what she doesn't know. Her groom-to-be is a 400-year-old vampire.

As a witch, I have a healthy dislike for the undead. While they can turn a human, their venom kills those of us with power. At least that was true until I was attacked by a rogue and transitioned into a vampire. Now the entire supernatural community wants answers, including the vampire overseer who had a surprising reaction to my unnatural rebirth. In addition to my sexy undead leader, I am assigned a death dealer mentor to investigate the reason I was targeted and protect my family.

Thirty-nine was a fantastic year. I was married to the man I loved. I had a body that worked without creaking. My grandma, who raised me, was still healthy, and life was pretty damned good. But as they say, all good things come to an end. One year later, I’m a widow. My joints are starting to ache. Gram is in the nursing home, and dead people think my home is some kind of supernatural bed-and-breakfast. Gluing body parts onto semi-transparent people has become a side job - deceased people I’m not even sure are actually there.