I’m Paige Harper, and while I’ve lost some things over the years—my parents, some business, a couple pair of panties—I think I might have finally found a man to settle down with...except he’s a werewolf. Nico and I have barely had time to declare our feelings, much less get any time alone, when we discover there might be an answer to the big question of what happened during the Great Ghosting—a mass disappearance which claimed my family. But that means going into the heart of O.H.I.O, a supersecret, anti-supe organization that has terrorized me and my friends before.

I’m the bounty hunter you call when you want the job done. But what people don’t know is that I’m a rare half-fae with the sort of powers the Unseelie will kill for. That’s why I let everyone think I’m human and I always work alone. Until now. Corbin Frost has been assigned to my latest case, and working with the Unseelie Enforcer - especially one who is a hybrid fae demon - isn’t going to be easy. He’s here because there are Fae markings on the dead body. 

A daredevil prince wants to pay me mega-bucks to train him to hold his breath underwater for 10 minutes? Sign me up. Except I’m a magician, not a stunt consultant. My record-beating dive without air was a trick. Of course, I can’t tell that to my client, the royally hot Anatolio Cezaroff, a.k.a. Tigger. Not if I want to be able to pay my rent. Also, I’m not exactly comfortable around germs. All germs, including those lurking on uber-attractive men. So falling for my gorgeous client is out of the question, and I fully intend to keep my distance.

Shadowvale isn’t typical small-town America. The sun never shines, the gates decide who enters, magic abounds, and every resident bears some kind of curse. No one knows this as well as raven shifter Deacon Evermore, who, like everyone in his family, has a curse. While his position as Shadowvale’s peacekeeper lets him use that curse for good, he’d rather live anywhere else. He stays for his family but doubts he can last much longer.

One day, I’m married, living in Seattle, and magic isn’t real. The next, I’m divorced and living in the guest room of my ex’s hotter-than-sin cousin’s place in Savannah and talking to an animated skeleton named Robert. I have to admit, Robert isn’t my worst date. At 41, I didn’t think I’d be starting over. But I’ll be damned if my ex thinks I’m down and out because he pulled a fast one on me. When a job comes my way that offers me a chance to use my childhood training in the shadow world, I take it.