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I never thought I'd see him again. We ended things on a horrible note, and it was all my fault. So when I bump into Colton at a local coffee shop, I'm convinced it's some kind of prank. But it wasn't. Colton was back in town, and he needed help. His mom was killed in a burglary gone wrong, and he's convinced there's more to the story.

Former federal agent Alexis Parker is tired of death, destruction, and mayhem. She wants to forget her past and focus on the present. She has a new gig guarding a priceless piece of art and a promising future with James Martin, but when she runs into an old friend while working in Paris, her new life comes crashing to an end. Armed thugs, stolen art, and a bag of cash are just the tip of the iceberg. The painting is a fake, and the insurance firm blames Alex for the theft. But the real thief is out there.

I quit my job. I walked away from everything I knew. I couldn't lose anyone else. Not again. Working for James Martin wasn't supposed to be complicated or lethal. Too bad someone wanted him dead, and I was the only thing standing in the way. When eccentric playboy CEO James Martin's life is threatened, he decides to hire Alexis Parker, an attractive, feisty, former federal agent, to be his new security consultant and personal bodyguard. 

Rain Christiansen, cold-case detective and reluctant medium, is very aware of that fact. But when infamous serial killer Thomas Kane wants to meet, there's no way Rain can say no. He also can't refuse Kane's offer - find his missing wife, Delilah, and he'll reveal the location of his victim's bodies. Rain has never turned down a good quid pro quo, and he doesn't intend to start. The hunt for Kane's wife leads to yet another cold case, three copycat murders, and an investigation where nothing is as it seems. Soon, Rain is dealing with a ghost unlike any he's ever dealt with before.

Tree Callister is not much of a private detective. His first client just turned up at the door and he's twelve years old. What's more, the kid has the grand total of seven dollars with which to hire Tree to find his mother. Everyone on Sanibel Island in Florida, where Tree lives, thinks the...

There's a body beneath the skip bins. Fae on the forklift. A vampire in the manager's office. And there's definitely something skeevy going on in the locker rooms. Hi. I'm Pet. Well, not exactly Pet. I am a pet. I was meant to stay out of it, but somebody's gotta do something when humans are being killed by Behindkind creatures. 

When you get up in the morning, the last thing you expect to see is a murdered guy hanging outside your window. Things like that tend to draw the attention of the local police, and when you're squatting in your parents' old house until you can afford to buy it, another thing you can't afford is the attention of the cops. Oh yeah. Hi. My name is Pet. It's not my real name, but it's the only one you're getting. 

It wasn't just another live shot . . . TV reporter Pete Lemaster anticipates nothing more riveting than filming a short lifestyle segment for an upcoming college football rivalry when he arrives at the Jacksonville Waterfront pregame tailgate party. Then chaos erupts as a bystander stops an...

Matt is intrigued when his partner Liz brings home an old carpet bag she found dumped in the local library. It contains a pile of mysterious handwritten notes. Liz is convinced the bag belongs to Old Molly, a local woman who lives on the streets. The following day, a body is discovered in a marshy lagoon. It's Old Molly. Suffocated with an expensive men's handkerchief. Molly clearly knew something that got her killed. Liz believes she was trying to tell them something important. She calls on her nephew David to help decipher the carpet bag notes.

Rosemary Simpson presents Book 8 in the Gilded Age Mystery series.

Exiled, excommunicated, and with a bounty on his head, Athelas is lying low in Seoul for exactly one reason: he has a wedding to attend. Whether or not he's welcome is another matter. Luckily for Athelas, several bodies have turned up with their soft insides gnawed out, whether by magic or Behindkind—and the latest of those bodies is at the very wedding hall he has been staking out. The Behindkind investigators suspect one of Athelas's housemates: YeoWoo, a gumiho with a thirst for revenge and an even greater appetite for soft underbelly than Athelas.

Bridget Sway has been dead for seven years. She and her best friend, Sabrina, are running a wildly successful private detective agency. She gets to wear what she wants, eat what she wants, she's even made peace with her communal living situation. Everything is . . . perfect. And yet, once again, Bridget is drowning in dissatisfaction. The problem? No one is murdering anyone. Their days are filled with infidelity cases and not much else. So when a client's potentially cheating husband goes missing, Bridget and Sabrina jump at the chance to do something different.

When Henry Swann is asked by his quirky partner, Goldblatt, to find a missing psychic who's swindled his ex-wife out of a small fortune, he just can't say no. Although he doesn't actually expect to get paid, he figures it might give him a chance to finally learn more about his partner's mysterious past. His search takes him into the controversial, arcane world of psychics, fortunetellers, and charlatans, while raising questions in his own mind about whether or not there is an afterlife.

P.I. Jack "Keeper" Marconi understands the criminal mind. And he knows what it takes to break a man. His own life came apart the day a black Buick broadsided his car—and his wife died horrifically in the seat beside him. Years later, on the eve of his second marriage, Marconi catches a split-second glimpse of the driver who killed his wife. Suddenly hurtled back into the past, he is determined to take one last shot at hunting him down. That is, until he is offered a job he can't refuse: to bust a beautiful woman out of a hellish Mexican prison.

A friendly poker game leads Henry Swann out to Hollywood where he tries to find the man, Rusty Jacobs, responsible for embezzling $1,000,000 from his client, and then bring back the dough. Swann finds Jacobs, but the mercurial wannabe film producer is involved in a "surefire" movie project aimed at the growing Christian market. And the money? Well, it seems to have vanished into thin air.

Ex-FBI profiler River Ryland still suffers from PTSD after a case went horribly wrong. Needing a fresh start, she moves to St. Louis to be near her ailing mother and opens a private investigation firm with her friend and former FBI partner, Tony St. Clair. They're soon approached by a grieving mother who wants them to find out what happened to her teenaged son, who disappeared four years ago. River knows there's almost no hope the boy is still alive, but his mother needs closure, and River and Tony need a case, no matter how cold it might be.

Ever since meeting James Martin, Alex's life has never been the same. The former federal agent turned private investigator has faced off against mercenaries, deranged crime lords, and art smugglers, and that's just what's happened since taking a job in the private sector. After the most recent brush with death, Alex is reconsidering her work, but the universe has other plans. Martin has been arrested for the murder of supermodel Caterina Skolnick. The body was found on his yacht, and he was the only person onboard.

After the recent revelation about Pain's former partner, the big guy's been AWOL in search of answers. Agony is not the type to mope about. She has kept the ship afloat, trusting that when Pain's found the answers, he needs he'll be back. When Pain does come back, he arrives only he can . . . in a maelstrom of gunfire, screams, and callouts to emergency services. Agony and Pain need to sort out the issues months of distance and time have created, and they need to do it quickly.

When rare photos‚ a scandalous diary‚ and a beautiful woman all go missing at once‚ the stage is set for three challenging cases for Henry Swann. It begins with an offer to partner up with his slovenly‚ unreliable frenemy‚ Goldblatt. The disbarred lawyer-turned-"facilitator" would provide the leads and muscle‚ while Swann would do all the fancy footwork. A lost diary by a free-loving Jazz Age flapper is worth enough to someone that Swann takes a beat down on an abandoned boardwalk.

Sleazy strip club owner Chaz Wellington Smith, III is at it again with an all-male revue called the Cheeky Monkey, catering to girls' nights out and bachelorette parties. Recently, his new venture has been plagued with annoying pranks that have turned costly, and of course, private eye Delanie Fitzgerald is the one he calls to find out who is center stage for all the mayhem.