Paranormal Thriller Suspense

The Kingdom of Delain is at stake when King Roland is murdered and his son and rightful heir, Peter, is framed for the crime. Plotting against him is the evil Flagg and his pawn, young Prince Thomas. Yet with every plan there are holes - like Thomas's terrible secret. And the determined Prince Peter, who is planning a daring escape from his imprisonment.

When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I'm the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot. The FBI wants me on their team. Bad enough that they are dangling bait they know I can't resist. The catch? It’s on the other side of the ocean. And if I want what they’re offering, I have to help them with a salvage gone terribly, terribly wrong. But this time, I have no back up. I have no Plan B. And I have no O’Shea.

The final book in the Witch Among Warlocks series.

Lee Barrett has agreed to attend a storage auction with Aunt Ibby - even though she suspects the forgotten rooms will yield more junk than treasure. Her skepticism vanishes once the two win a bid on an overlooked locker and uncover a trove of beautiful curiosities, including a stunning wooden carousel horse with gentle eyes and fading paint. But just before Lee leaves the fairground relic at a local repair shop, the sight of a silver samovar awakens her psychic abilities and conjures visions of murder.

In detective Mera Maurea's experience, three things motivate a murder: secrets, convenience, or passion. But none of the three can explain why the Summer King is dead. With a tight deadline hanging over her head, Mera has to figure out who's the culprit before the frail balance that holds the nation of Tagrad together crumbles into dust. To aid her - or turn her life into a living hell, hard to tell which - is her fae partner Sebastian Dhay, a snarky detective with a penchant for the illegal. He's a volatile wild card who will do anything to solve the murder, even if it means his doom.

All good things must come to an end, Constant Listener, and not even Stephen King can write a story that goes on forever. The tale of Roland Deschain's relentless quest for the Dark Tower has, the author fears, sorely tried the patience of those who have followed it from its earliest chapters. But attend to it a while longer, if it pleases you, for this volume is the last, and often the last things are best.

The city of Voortyashtan was once the home of the goddess of death, war, and destruction, but now it's little more than a ruin. General Turyin Mulaghesh is called out of retirement and sent to this hellish place to find a Saypuri secret agent who's gone AWOL in the middle of a mission. But the ghosts of past wars have followed her there, and soon she begins to wonder what happened to the souls in the afterlife when the gods were defeated by her people, the Polis. Do the dead sleep soundly in the land of death?

Waking up in a tacky coffin and wearing off-brand shoes, Betsy Taylor can't believe the horrible turn her life has taken; then she discovers she's a vampire. Soon, Betsy becomes a participant in a power struggle between the forces of darkness. With only her friend Jessica and the hunky vampire Sinclair to help her, this new "Queen of Vampires" will have a tough time getting her afterlife straight.

When the fae beckon, few resist. Even fewer return. As a veil witch, I'm used to taking out the supernatural trash. Everything from poltergeists to vampires, you name it and I've dealt with it. So opening a paranormal cleanup business just seemed to make sense. If I'm already dealing with the pests, why not get paid? But when I accidentally breach the faerie realm to encounter a girl recently reported missing, start seeing the ghost of a witch whose disappearance has never been solved, and discover a Book of Shadows that opens only for me, I can't just go back to business as usual.

Find a gateway to the underworld. Steal a soul out of hell. A simple plan, except people who make this particular journey rarely come back. But Galaxy “Alex” Stern is determined to break Darlington out of purgatory—even if it costs her a future at Lethe and at Yale.

A scrappy, hot-blooded woman can only take so much! Violet Parker is on fire...or rather under fire yet again. New evidence has fanned the embers of a cold murder case, and her alibi is smoldering at the corners. While battling a dogged detective determined to pin the murder on her, Violet scrambles to find the real killer. Will she escape "the heat" with singed tail feathers? Or will Violet go down in flames?

Joe Sunday has been a Los Angeles low-life for years, but his life gets a whole lot lower when he is killed by the rival of his crime boss-only to return as a zombie. His only hope is to find and steal a talisman that he learns can grant immortality. But, unfortunately for Joe, every other undead thug and crime boss in Los Angeles is looking for the same thing.

There's never a good time for a ghost crisis. However, it's particularly inconvenient while I'm trying to tackle my first wedding season. Between 12-hour days, an assistant with a case of butterfingers (not the chocolate kind), and the flood of tourists in town, I'm struggling to keep a grip on my sanity. All I want is three months of peace from the spirit world. But when local ghosts start going missing, I have to do something.

Brighton Longfield is kinda bad at life. She's divorced, childless, and she just got fired...again. With dwindling savings and few prospects, she packs her possessions into a U-Haul and sets out for the little town of Coventry, where she inherited a dilapidated old house from her Great Aunt "Mad" Maude Tuttlesmith. Coventry is supposed to be a stop in the road for Brighton. The plan is to fix up the house, sell it, and then figure out what to do with her life. You know what they say about the best-laid plans.

Texas? Toast. Battered by five cataclysmic hurricanes in three weeks, the Texas Gulf Coast and half of the Lone Star State is reeling from the worst devastation in history. Thousands are dead or dying - but the worst is only beginning. Amid the wreckage, something unimaginable is happening: a deadly virus has broken out, returning the dead to life - with an insatiable hunger for human flesh. The nightmare begins...

Sister murdered, best friend dead, married to the patron saint of death, Necromancer Eric Carter's return to Los Angeles hasn't gone well, and it's about to get even worse. His link to the death goddess is changing his powers, changing him. While searching for a way to break Santa Muerte's hold over him, Carter finds himself the target of a psychopath who can steal anyone's form, powers, and memories. He can be anyone. He can be anywhere.

Proud. Imperious. Impassioned. Until three years ago, those words applied to Dominic Asher, the leader of Ash Valley. His family has ruled the feline branch of the Animari for hundreds of years, guiding the pride through perilous times. Unspeakable loss drove him into seclusion, a feral beast nobody can tame. Now he's wrecked, a leopard king in exile, and he wants nothing more than to die.

For my forty-fifth birthday, I planned to treat myself to a spa day with my bestie. But instead, my late husband's insurance broker drops by to let me know that not only am I still widowed but my husband's insurance policies are being paid to his other wife-and his other family. The next thing I know, I'm being romanced by an Indiana Jones wannabe who arrives like a dervish to sweep me off my feet. One thing leads to another, but before anything happens, Indy goes missing, the place is trashed, and I've got myself a glowing snake tattoo that seems to be talking to me about magic.

My name is Scarlet Jones, and I'm a witch...of some kind. Probably. I grew up in a family full of strong Blood witches, in which my strange magic never belonged. I thought I was the only one of my kind out there, a true freak of nature, and I liked it that way. I lived on my own, learning to hunt these creatures nobody seemed to know anything about, a bunch of mindless thingies who were in the habit of sucking my magic dry wherever they found me.

Four months of wallowing in embarrassed depression should be enough. I’m beginning to realize that no one is who they seem to be, and my life story might be spinning out of my control. It’s time to take a shower, put on a bra, and wear something other than sweatpants. Difficult, but doable. With my friends - real and imaginary - by my side, I need to edit my life before the elusive darkness comes for all of us.