When my husband of 25 years leaves me to expedite his political agenda, and his new girlfriend ensures I have no place within the shadow council, I am starting over with a new business and no financial security.

When Dani convinces her five sisters to sink everything they have into purchasing a dilapidated old plantation, it seems like a great idea at the time. They need a site to expand their business, and none of them are strangers to the occasional escapade. Little do they know buying Willowberry Plantation House will be the biggest adventure of their lives. As New Orleans natives, the sisters aren't at all surprised to find a ghost haunting their new house. What they don't see coming is their discovery that the land was cursed by a wrathful witch centuries earlier.

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.

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.

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.