Showing results by narrator "Alyse Gibbs" in All Categories

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

A deadly assassin. A desperate witch. A past that won’t stay buried. I’m Amber DeLea—ambitious witch, potion mistress extraordinaire, and daughter to a woman slipping further away each day. My life is a constant battle, whether it’s cursed runes, treacherous coven politics, or dark forces closing in. But nothing haunts me more than my mother’s unravelling mind, and I’m running out of time to find a cure. The last thing I need is Bastion—the deadly griffin assassin who shattered my world—being ordered to protect me.

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

Welcome to Portlock: where the dead don’t always stay that way. When a human inspector drops dead in the Chrome Mine, things get messy fast. The dwarves are up in arms, swearing the mine is cursed, and when a second body turns up—this time without its head—all fingers point to the local hag. But I’ve met Matilda. She’s terrifying, sure, but she doesn’t seem like the elaborate crime scene type. More of a ‘crush you under a landslide’ kind of gal. Still, with the dwarves baying for blood and a murderer on the loose, I need answers before this case spirals out of control.

I'm supposed to be meeting with Emory's dragon Court and amazing them with my suave wit and shining intellect. Instead, I'm on the trail of a kidnapper. Someone has stolen away a centaur teenager, Alfie, from a magical circus. The circus master has hired me and Gato to find out who took him—hopefully before Alfie swims with the fishes.

I’ve been working on a potion that could change everything. Unfortunately, some people are allergic to change. A price has been put on my head – and the sharks are coming for me. Vampires, Ogres and black witches are all gunning for me, and they want me dead, by any means necessary. The Coven Council, in their infinite wisdom, assign me my very own griffin bodyguard. And of course, the one they assign is none other than my most hated enemy, Bastion.

When my most hated enemy, Bastion, comes to me for help I tell him to take a long walk off a short pier. I’m not helping the griffin assassin that once killed my lover. But when the Crone visits my coven, she tells me that I have to help him find his daughter or else I won’t achieve my full potential.

Don't miss this witchy series if you like humor, heart, and a strong heroine with a slow burn, enemies to lovers, fade-to-black romance.

When I’m arrested for killing a member of the Coven Council, I’m pretty sure we’ll get things straightened out quickly–after all, my victim was a black witch, and she was trying to kill me too. Like most things in my competitive life, I just got there first.

Betrayed, alone, and furious, I have plenty of time to plot my revenge. They’re not even going to see me coming. Whoever said revenge is a dish best served cold didn’t know a damned thing. Revenge is hot and fiery and I’m going to rain hell on the ones responsible for tearing me away from Emory on our wedding day. A daemon is stalking the Other Realm, and enough is enough. It’s time to bring him down to the depths of hell where he belongs. Hell hath no fury like a women scorned.

PI by day, reluctant witch by necessity—Beatrix has a case to crack and a legacy to reclaim. I walked away from my magic, my past, and the home I was born to protect. For the last decade, I’ve been scraping by as a PI in the non-magical world, solving human problems and ignoring the legacy that should have been mine. My magic is barely worth mentioning—unless you count my ability to sense emotions, which is frequently about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

Is this the scoop of a lifetime, or something far deadlier? Starting over in Ravens Hollow was meant to be simple — a chance to adjust to my new, nocturnal existence. No men. No complications. Just a bit of light investigative journalism in a quaint magical town by the sea. Then Pongo the pup trotted into my life, and normalcy bled away faster than my resistance to a fresh pint of blood. I’d barely set up my desk at the Ravens Hollow Oracle before a renowned sculptor turned up dead at the town’s annual art exhibition.

I am seizing the patriarchy by the balls, and I’m going to give it a vasectomy. I may have been crowned Queen, but it rapidly becomes clear that the title doesn’t come with an iota of respect: in fact, it’s a death sentence. My enemies have handed me a crown and now they’re sitting back to see how long I can keep it. Challenges will be coming thick and fast, and I need to be prepared. Luckily, Esme was born ready and I’m a fast learner.

Witchlight Cove was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, I’ve discovered a long-lost grandfather, my best friend’s hiding a massive secret, and the Eternal Flame has disappeared—only the most important magical artefact in town. Oh, and to top it all off, a body just turned up, complete with vampire bite marks. I’d love to say I’ve got everything under control, but let’s be real—I’m barely keeping my life together.

Curses are falling on this town like rain in London. Just when I think I’ve found a link between the hexed victims, someone else shows up who’s been jinxed. It feels like the devil is playing darts with my paranormal town and if the dart hits you, you get whammed with a curse. To be honest, I haven’t a clue how to find the perpetrator. My sole lead is pointing at the travelling black market that has just arrived in Portlock. That would be all fine and dandy — if I could find it. Weirdly, no one is willing to direct the cops to a highly illegal market.

I thought I was finally getting the hang of being a paranormal policewoman, but when one of the gemstones powering the barrier around the town is stolen, I’m as terrified as the average Joe. Of course, there’s nothing average about the Joes in this town. It’s chock full of mythical creatures, and some of them think the barrier is a waste of time. Well, I’ve seen the cryptid monster beyond and I know we’re doomed if the magical palisade ever fails. Calling what would follow a massacre would be a gross understatement.

Jimmy Rain, vile alpha werewolf and power-hungry coward, thought he could attack my stronghold while I was distracted. Big mistake: knowing that Jess is safe, now I’m gunning for him. No more games. He’s about to learn why the sentient seat of power crowned me Queen of Werewolves. I’ll stop at nothing to destroy him ... permanently.

They pulled her from the lake – young, beautiful, and very, very dead. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, I get the cases the Common police can’t handle, and this one has Other Realm written all over it. When the medical examiner discovers runes carved into the corpse’s bones, I know we’re in for a bumpy ride. Elemental runes. First victim drowned. My gut says there’s more coming, and my gut is rarely wrong.

When I find a powerful political figure dead in his home, I know the pressure is going to be on. His death was brutal, and anything but swift. The brass want answers yesterday, so it's going to take the combined might of Unit 13 to bring the killer to justice. In the meantime, things are heating up with Robbie Krieg, King of the Ogres, my fated mate, and general pain in my ass. He's been keeping secrets, and they may be inextricably linked to the corpse I've just found.

My name’s Stacy, but you can call me Inspector Wise. As part of the Connection—the magical law enforcement keeping the supernatural under wraps—I deal with the grittiest magical crimes. The Other Realm is a Vampire-eat-Werewolf kind of world, and only the toughest survive. Fortunately, I’ve got a rare magical gift: I can slip into minds and make people dance to my tune. It's frowned upon to do that though, so I keep my talents more hidden than Area 51.