In 1876, we were called to Savannah, Georgia to help with an infestation of demons. If we'd known what we, my wife Evangeline, and I, were walking into, we'd have run the other way. As it was, we shared tea with a vampire and stepped into a battle we did not understand until it was too late.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of 20 years packs up and heads for greener pastures, and my son heads away to college, that's exactly what my midlife becomes. A do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at 40 I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills.

Divorced, desperate, and destitute, former restaurateur Defiance Dayne finds out she has been bequeathed a house by a complete stranger. She is surprised, to say the least, and her curiosity gets the better of her. She leaves her beloved Phoenix and heads to one of the most infamous towns in America: Salem, Massachusetts. She's only there to find out why a woman she's never met would leave her a house, a veritable castle that has seen better days.

The Desert Cursed Series should be listened to by people who can root for an underdog, have a good sense of humor, a love for high-paced action, and a taste for a blend of magic that even a Muggle could love. With over half a million copies sold, when you indulge in the Desert Cursed series, you’re in good company. Includes Witch's Reign (Book 1), Dragon's Ground (Book 2), and Jinn's Dominion (Book 3).

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of twenty years packs up and heads for greener pastures and my son leaves for college, that's exactly what my life becomes. Do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at forty I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills. I'll be taking care of a centuries old house that called to me when I was a kid.

Supernatural Bounty Hunter isn't the sort of thing you see on LinkedIn. But with a rare type of magic like mine, I don't have many options. Dangerous or not, the job is mine. And it was going fine, until an old-as-sin vampire stole my mark, and with it, my pay day. Knowing I'm poor and desperate, he has offered me a job. I'll have to work by his side to help solve a top secret case. Everyone knows not to trust vampires. Especially a hot elder vampire.

Plucked out of the Collector’s Pens, auctioned off to a vampire contingent, and sent across the ocean to the Alpha Territories was not exactly how I planned to spend my week. Actually, scratch that. I had planned the first bit. But I was supposed to be sold to the werewolves so I could save my friend from a fate worse than death. Instead, the bloodsuckers have me and so far? It's not going great. I've been shoved into a corset and made to look like an extra on the cast of Bridgerton, all to take part in the Harvest Games....

Some people are ordained for greatness. Those people usually have a lot of drama in their life. Drama I happily do without. I live in a forgotten corner of nowhere for a reason: there is safety in anonymity. I have enough problems just trying to get by. But when Kieran, a sinfully sexy demigod at the pinnacle of power, crashes into my life, suddenly my whole world is turned upside down. He’s harboring a deadly secret, one that could destroy all he holds dear. He thinks I’m the key to his salvation, and he wants me to help him claim vengeance. He also wants me with a passion.

Meet Stephanie Plum, a bounty hunter with attitude. In Stephanie’s opinion, toxic waste, rabid drivers, armed schizophrenics, and August heat, humidity, and hydrocarbons are all part of the great adventure of living in Jersey. She’s a product of the “burg,” a blue-collar pocket of Trenton where houses are attached and narrow, cars are American, windows are clean, and (God forbid you should be late) dinner is served at six.

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.