Action-packed police procedural meets dark urban fantasy in a world where cops and wizards are fighting a war over addictive, dangerous, and illegal dirty magic. Magic is a drug. Careful how you use it. The last thing patrol cop Kate Prospero expected to find on her nightly rounds was a werewolf covered in the blood of his latest victim. But then, she also didn't expect that shooting him would land her in the crosshairs of the Magic Enforcement Agency, who want to know why she killed their lead snitch. The MEA keeps dirty magic off the streets, but there's a new blend out there that's as deadly as it is elusive. The more Prospero learns about the investigation, the more she's convinced that earning a spot on their task force is the career break she's been wanting. But getting the assignment proves much easier than solving the case. Especially once the investigation reveals their lead suspect is the man she walked away from ten years earlier-on the same day she swore she'd given up dirty magic for good. Kate Prospero's about to learn the hard way that crossing a wizard will always get you burned, and that when it comes to magic, you should never say never. The first book the Prospero's War series from bestselling author Jaye Wells.

It's a lawless place, with bodies piled on the street. Rekia is known for relocating people on the run for their lives. She hides them in different universes where their pursuers can't find them. When one of her clients goes missing, Rekia and her boyfriend Trent enter a dangerous world where nothing is as it appears. The two have never backed down from a fight. Rekia's intent on saving her client's life, even if it means losing her own in the process. If you want to check out Rekia and Trent years later, please check out my World Breaker Series: Rogue Magic Bloody Magic Battle Magic

After a night of particularly strange and vivid dreams, Joe is visited by a girl who seems to be all gray, from her hair to her eyes to her clothes. Wherever she steps, the world melts away, replaced by a land of mud and rain. Telling Joe he must come with her if he wants to save his younger sister, who is gravely ill, the girl leads Joe through to her gray world, which is in the midst of a twenty-year-old war. There Joe dodges bullets, fearsome motion-tracking tanks, and the secret police as he searches for his sister.

After a night of particularly strange and vivid dreams, Joe is visited by a girl who seems to be all gray, from her hair to her eyes to her clothes. Wherever she steps, the world melts away, replaced by a land of mud and rain. Telling Joe he must come with her if he wants to save his younger sister, who is gravely ill, the girl leads Joe through to her gray world, which is in the midst of a twenty-year-old war. There Joe dodges bullets, fearsome motion-tracking tanks, and the secret police as he searches for his sister. From the Hardcover edition.

Dirty Or Die Trapped in a haunted house...three blind ghosts, three blind ghosts, see how they hunt... Ghosts are average when you're a reporter for The Skeptic. But these ghosts are energy vampires. They like fierce emotions-so sex, violence and lust are high on their menu demands. Paranormal reporters Darla and Mason find out that their pent-up, squashed-down lust for each other might just be what keeps them safe in Pike House. The game of survival starts off with a bang-literally-and keeps escalating at a frenzied pace. If they ever get out of Pike House alive, Darla's thinking she might just give her huge, handsome partner a shot. After all, she's lived through much weirder things than love. Automagically It was her sisters' fault, really. Their idea that Evie use studly coffee slinger Caleb Mahoney for sex to get over her ex. It was supposed to be simple. Spell him into wanting her, get down and dirty with him, release all her pent-up sexual energy, and then do a simple forgetful spell. Easy magic for three sister witches. No biggie. Right? Wrong. Every time Evie decides to come clean, well...they do it again. And again! It's not her fault...at least, she's pretty sure. Something niggles and itches deep in her brain every time she starts to confess. Is it chemistry or bad magic? Has their simple bang-yourself-happy-again spell gone out of control? Is it amping up automagically? Or is it because the huge, shorn, loveable man-whoda thunk it?-is really good in bed? And the van...and the shower...and the... You get the picture.

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