A psychic without an anchor. A student in trouble. A shooter on the loose.I’m Jonathan Bane, a licensed psychic who consults for the police. I routinely help the police put the bad guys away and, for that reason, the criminal world doesn’t like me much. People like to take a swing at me, or go stabbity, or try for a gun. It makes for interesting times. My psychic ability prevents me from handling anything electronic—and I do mean ANYTHING, I fry it in seconds—so calling for help isn’t always a possibility.

I’m rather used to the crazy cases, because let’s face it, most cops can handle the run-of-the-mill with their eyes closed. I’m only called in when the situation is weird or they need to solve the case fast. This case is a little of both. Someone’s attacking women as they get off of work, hitting them in the back of the head. What started as a case of battery has steadily built up to homicide. With three murders, six victims, and no leads, the Clarksville PD are desperate to catch the assailant.

Smart men never dabble with demons. I never claimed to be smart, but at least, I’m powerful enough to control them. When I bound Havoc to me nearly 300 years ago, I never realized how difficult he’d make my life, although “accidentally” lighting him on fire every now and then does bring a smile to my face. Havoc is handsome, mysterious, and somehow, my closest companion, even if we don’t always get along.

A sexy alien living incognito on Earth meets a sci-fi loving nerd who wants to rock his universe. What could possibly go wrong? Besides the unexpected tentacles and the accidental Mating Courtship Ritual, that is....

Though I was born with the ability to see the dead, I struggled with it until my brother was killed and his ghost was left behind. Now, I’m determined to figure out who is responsible for his death…the problem is that Detective Maddox Booker, the one working the case, is a grumpy and stubborn man who wants nothing to do with me and definitely doesn’t believe in ghosts. It doesn’t help that I keep finding myself looking ridiculous in front of the detective, thanks to interfering ghosts who enjoy laughing at my expense.

All Dag Gates wants is a place to call home. (And to practice magic freely.) All Stefan Bjorne wants is peace in his adoptive country. (And less paperwork.) All Mikkel Vinters wants is both of them. (No, really, he could do wedding bells.) So why, pray tell, is half the magical community set on denying them all their wishes?

One mage: Bel Adams–part demon, gun shy about being rejected by one again, needs a familiar. One familiar: Nico di Rossi–Army Ranger, needs a change of pace and a new purpose in life, is a golden retriever in human form (though not literally). Plus one familiar: Garen Dallarosa–Secret Service, part gargoyle, needs his ex-lover Nico back.

Pixies are supposed to be petite, beautifully lithe creatures with gossamer wings. Sporting luscious, ombre pink hair and fluttering pink wings, Phil meets two out of three of those criteria. At over six feet tall, no one would dare call Phil petite. As a home-and-hearth pixie, Phil yearns to find a home and family he can bond to. When no one's willing to hire a pixie of his stature, Phil is forced to find work elsewhere. Turns out, pixies make terrible bouncers.

Protector. Boogeyman. Hellhound. Meshaq has been called it all. As alpha of the hellhounds, his goddess has tasked him with protecting the secrets of the supernatural world. He’s the police of other creatures and the enforcer of the goddess’ rules. If his duty leaves him lonely and longing for a mate and a larger pack, well, the goddess knows the secrets of his heart, and she will grant them if it is her will.

Sam Baker couldn’t be more normal. He’s a teacher at the local middle school and the most exciting part of his day is dealing with a classroom full of hormonal preteens. His life takes a turn for the weird one stormy night when he finds a small boy on his doorstep. A boy who growls, flashes unnaturally blue eyes, demands for Sam to call the alpha - whatever that is - and gives Sam the one name he wishes he could forget: Vaughn Jerrick.