Urban Fantasy Crime

As the head of the New York City Shadow Riders and his branch of the Ferraro family, Geno bears the weight of dual responsibilities on his broad shoulders. There’s nothing more important to Geno than protecting his territory and his famiglia. So when his own parents become the latest victims in a string of vicious murders, Geno is ready to go scorched earth. He thinks he has the assassin in his sights, but he’s unprepared for the firestorm their connection ignites.

Nell Ingram draws her powers from deep in the earth, and uses them to help Psy-LED, the Psychometric Law Enforcement Division, which solves paranormal crimes. When a local vampire calls to report a dead body on her compound, Nell knows she and her team have to be ready for anything. But the dead body is just the beginning of a mystery that involves supernaturals of all kinds, including some of the most powerful vampires in the country. As Nell gets closer to the truth, she begins to understand that the perpetrator is tracking her too—and that there is something personal about this crime.

Artémis, le vampire légendaire, a des ennuis. Mais Kyle, le loup-garou sexy qui a fait de moi sa compagne, refuse que je me lance sur la piste du suceur de sang. Son argument ? Ça pue les ennuis à plein nez. Bien sûr, je ne l'écoute pas. Je ne suis pas du genre à laisser mes amis dans le caca.

Being the weakest mage ever born into my prestigious family line has put me at odds with my relatives—torture and death threats tend to make family dinners so awkward. Labeled as a black sheep in the mage community, I'm vilified at every opportunity, and it's not long before my very existence is considered an inconvenience—one they want to rectify at the earliest opportunity. Arrested for a crime I didn't commit, the last thing I expect is to be rescued by a motley crew of the most unlikely men—three beastlings and a mage!

James Stark, a.k.a. Sandman Slim, crawled out of Hell, took bloody revenge for his girlfriend’s murder, and saved the world along the way. After that, what do you do for an encore? You take a lousy job tracking down monsters for money. It’s a depressing gig, but it pays for your beer and cigarettes. But in L.A., things can always get worse. Like when Lucifer comes to town to supervise his movie biography and drafts Stark as his bodyguard.

Born into riches, Probator Symeon Noctis attempts to atone for his past sins by championing the powerless of Nearsteel district. But the sprawling city of Varangantua is uncaring of its masses, and when a bisected corpse is discovered in the neutral zone between Nearsteel and the Adeptus Mechanicus enclave of Steelmound, Noctis finds himself cast into his most dangerous case yet.

Atlantica - the forgotten isle, the glittering gem in the cesspool of humanity's future. Anything you do inside your own home is allowed. It is a dog-eat-dog world of millionaires and billionaires. The rest of society beneath them live in ignorance. Those at the top have money, tools, people, assassins, and murderers. One such assassin was a rumor, a myth, a ghost in the night. The Red Countess, the lady Valentina Winters. A player among the elite has something Valentina wants, and she is willing to do most anything to get it.

Atlantica - the forgotten isle, the glittering gem in the cesspool of humanity's future. Anything you do inside your own home is allowed. Those with obscene wealth find it a haven, while every major country of in the world craves the secrets they believe are buried in the mist. Where mystery happens, John Chambers can exist: ex-soldier, gritty realist, detective. It's whispered that John "Dick" Chambers is the man you go to when you need someone who can't be bought.

It is 1890, and in the days before Christmas, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson are visited at Baker Street by a new client. Eve Allerthorpe, eldest daughter of a grand but somewhat eccentric Yorkshire-based dynasty, is greatly distressed, as she believes she is being haunted by a demonic Christmas spirit. Her late mother told her terrifying tales of the sinister Black Thurrick, and Eve is sure that she has seen the creature from her bedroom window. What is more, she has begun to receive mysterious parcels of birch twigs, the Black Thurrick’s calling card.

Necromancer is such an ugly word, but it's a title Eric Carter is stuck with. He sees ghosts, talks to the dead. He's turned it into a lucrative career putting troublesome spirits to rest, sometimes taking on even more dangerous things. For a fee, of course. When he left LA fifteen years ago, he thought he'd never go back. Too many bad memories. Too many people trying to kill him. But now his sister's been brutally murdered and Carter wants to find out why.

Between Agent Söze, the treacherous Internal Affairs tyrant whose taken over my precinct, and the super illegal sorcery my partner Lienna was hiding in said precinct—which is now missing—my usual routine of busting magical criminals has fallen apart in favor of hectic damage control. But that went out the window too when a respected Guild Master was found dead. Agent Söze is trying to cover it up, which is all the reason I need to make solving the murder my top priority.

Qu'est-ce qui m'a pris de tuer mon ex, un loup-garou, et de l'enterrer à deux cents mètres de chez moi ? Je dois dire que ça n'a pas été la plus brillante de mes idées. Mais j'ai appris à me défendre dès mon plus jeune âge, et là, il l'avait un peu cherché. Je m'appelle September Jones, membre de la communauté des surnaturels et, même si je fais mon maximum pour rester discrète, il semblerait que ma nature de changeling se rappelle à moi sous la forme d'un beau spécimen de loup-garou nommé Kyle.

Lucas Rurik is no stranger to navigating the tricky territory between humans and those touched by the rift. After all, as the last surviving member of the Raven Guild, protecting the peace is his job. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. As much as Lucas would like to be out hunting for Dr. Callie Mitchell—a deranged scientist with a bad habit of experimenting on the rift-fused—his friends at the Rift-Crime Unit require his expertise on a perilous case.

It is the autumn of 1880, and Dr. John Watson has just returned from Afghanistan. Badly injured and desperate to forget a nightmarish expedition that left him doubting his sanity, Watson is close to destitution when he meets the extraordinary Sherlock Holmes, who is investigating a series of deaths in the Shadwell district of London. Several bodies have been found, the victims appearing to have starved to death over the course of several weeks, and yet they were reported alive and well mere days before.

When the road forks, how do you know which path is the right one? Raven Black hunts evildoers for fun, but her vigilante justice isn't the only reason she's hiding from the law. Half vampire, half mage, she's spent years living as a rogue to stay alive. When a Russian shifter offers her a job in his covert organization hunting outlaws, dignity and a respectable career are finally within her grasp.

The novel opens in the present. At its center: Toby O’Dare—a contract killer of underground fame on assignment to kill once again. A soulless soul, a dead man walking, he lives under a series of aliases—just now: Lucky the Fox—and takes his orders from “The Right Man.”

Sherlock Holmes is an unparalleled genius. Warlock Holmes is an idiot. A font of arcane power, certainly. But he's brilliantly dim. Frankly, he couldn't deduce his way out of a paper bag. The only thing he has really got going for him are the might of a thousand demons and his stalwart companion. Thankfully, Dr. Watson is always there to aid him through the treacherous shoals of Victorian propriety and save him from a gruesome death every now and again.

My name is Mac Brennan, and that's the only thing I can remember about myself. Not why I woke up in a dumpster. Not why my right arm is as black as pitch and covered in glowing red tattoos, and certainly not why a vicious death cult is after me. Actually, that last part isn't true. I know why the death cult is after me. It's because I saved that damned girl from them. I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'd have done it anyway. I just don't like it when girls get beat up; call me old fashioned.

Welcome to Mexico City, an oasis in a sea of vampires. Domingo, a lonely garbage-collecting street kid, is just trying to survive its heavily policed streets when a jaded vampire on the run swoops into his life. Atl, the descendant of Aztec blood drinkers, is smart, beautiful, and dangerous. Domingo is mesmerized.

In a deserted tenement in an occupied city, two dead bodies lie on a dusty floor as if they have fallen out of the air. One corpse is cut in half, the other is utterly unmarked. One is human, the other isn’t. The city of Ambergris is half ruined, rotten, its population controlled by narcotics, internment camps, and acts of terror. But its new masters want this case closed, urgently. Detective John Finch has just one week to solve it or be sent to the camps. With no ID for the victims, no clues, no leads, and precious little hope, Finch’s fate hangs in the balance.