I was a child when my father surrendered me to the Temple of All Gods. No one gave me a choice. No one even bothered to explain. I was simply tossed aside, unwanted. That was the day the God of Temptation claimed me as his. Now, I'm studying how to become the perfect priestess. Life in the temple means embracing my emotions and learning to harness each type of desire. Power, fear, lust, and rage are the most common, but not the only ones. Each has a power. Each has its place. I just have to figure out which kind of priestess I'll become.

Leaving my husband was hard. Trying to face the world alone with my teenage daughter is the sort of thing nightmares are made of, but I caught a break. My best friend just hired me for a great job, with perks like a rent-free house right beside not just one handsome man, but five! Each one is hotter than the last, and all of them seem interested in me. But everyone around us has these strange golden eyes...and there are the questions no one will answer. And who cares if there's a lot of wildlife running around at night? I do, especially when a wolf keeps sneaking into my backyard.

I always imagined Death's final kiss would be cold. It wasn't. Four years later, I can still remember the exact shade of his skin: a blue so pale it looked like moonlight. I dream of his touch. Mostly, I paint the man under the heavy cowl, including those perfect lips which ruined mine for anyone else. I'm obsessed with him.

Everyone lies. When working for a sex mage, it's the only way to stay safe. That's the first thing Jaeda learns when she's named as the Chosen. The mage needs a sacrifice, and she's willing to give it. Maybe too willing. After all, this man is lust incarnate; a woman would have to be insane not to want him, even if he is dangerous.

My name is Arizona Smoke, and I'm the proud owner of a house haunted by my dead Gram, best friend to a cocktail dress loving werewolf, and apparent soul mate to four plumbers who also happen to be elemental dragons. Besides rippling pectorals, tattoos, and … uh, nice, long pipes, the guys also have control of the elements. Supernatural law (whoever heard of such a thing anyway?) dictates that since I stumbled upon the guys in their alternate forms, I have to marry them. All four of them. Oh, and apparently one lousy (okay, awesome) night of sex means that I'm an elemental, too—and no amount of magical penicillin can cure this disease.