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No gun. No horse. No water or food. And worse yet: No idea how he ended up in the middle of a desert with a bullet in his leg and a bump on his head. That’s the sorry situation Matt Jensen wakes up to — dazed and confused — until he slowly pieces together what happened. The last thing he remembers: He agreed to help out a friend of Duff MacCallister’s. A pretty lady and her husband at a horse ranch. He also recalls their cross-country trip through hell to deliver the horses safely to market. That’s when the outlaws showed up. That’s when the shooting began. 

When Chicago hitman Ray Dylan started out he was one more young professional struggling to get ahead of the pack. But he knows his world is about to change quickly when he takes on a job for high-level KGB elitist Leonid (The Professor) Volkov, founder of a unique Cuban-Russian spy community operating out of southern Florida. After Volkov double-crosses him and tries to have him killed, Dylan must take on the entire criminal spy operation even as a wild hurricane named Dennis ravages its way up the heart of the Florida peninsula.

It’s the 48th year of the Kurian Order. The alien, vampiric Kur and their avatars, the Reapers, control most of the Earth - their new feeding ground. Humanity is scattered and survives only at their new master’s whims. But the Resistance is attempting to reclaim Earth. David Valentine, member of the elite Cat spy force, is in enemy uniform aboard the aging gunboat Thunderbolt. Whispers have reached him of the discovery of a long-lost weapon in the Caribbean - the first glimmer of hope for humanity to finally defeat the Reapers. 

David Valentine resigns as a Wolf militia, and accepts an offer to become a Cat, one of the stealthy warriors trained to spy on, and go toe-to-toe with the Reapers. Under the command of his mentor, Smoke, Val's first mission is to enter the Kurian zone and investigate "The Twisted Cross", a strike force of alien-human hybrids, possessing the skills of combat veterans and the hunger of the Reapers....Along the way he befriends a powerful alien, a Grog named Anh-Ka, who declares David his blood brother after Valentine nurses him back from death.

On the blood-stained battlefields of a divided nation, Dr. Samuel Knight used his surgical skills to treat wounded Confederate soldiers. In the brutal prison camps of the Union Army, he offered his healing services to fellow captives who’d given up hope. But now, with the war over and the South in ruins, the good doctor faces his hardest challenge yet: to save himself.

In a wild frontier boomtown like Rattlesnake Wells, it’s hard to know who to lock up, who to let out, and who to gun down. But as town marshal, it’s Bob Hatfield’s job to separate the sinners from the saints — or at least keep them from killing each other. Now there’s a new boy in town. He’s fresh out of prison. He swears he was wrongfully convicted of embezzling from his boss at the local mine. He wants to clear his name and reclaim the woman he loves.

It’s been over half a year, now, since the brutal murder of Archbishop William de Laurent during his pilgrimage to the Galicien city of Davillon. During that time, the Church of the Hallowed Pact has assigned a new bishop to the city - but it has also made its displeasure at the death of its clergyman quite clear. Davillon’s economy has suffered beneath the weight of the Church’s displeasure. Much of the populace - angry at the clergy - has turned away from the Church hierarchy, choosing private worship or small, independent shrines.

Unaware of the forces marshaled against him, Captain Phinneus Shae and the crew of the Talion are headed into uncharted waters. With a doggedly determined killer from his past on his trail and cold-blooded pirates all around him, Shae’s contract to recover the treasure from a sunken ship seems destined to fail. But other, more nefarious individuals are after that same treasure, and whatever it is, it is destined to change the future of the Iron Kingdoms. Whether for good or ill all depends on who finds it first and who is buried at the bottom of the sea in the end....

Mick Oberon may look like just another 1930s private detective, but beneath the fedora and the overcoat, he’s got pointy ears and he’s packing a wand. 

The Spear of Lugh, one of the four Kingly Hallows of Ireland is in Chicago. And everyone, everyone wants it, for it is said that he who carries the spear into battle cannot be defeated. Among those who seek it are an agent of the infamous Wild Hunt; a mobster who knows far more about these things than he should; and of course both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts - the last people PI Mick Oberon would want getting hold of the spear....

Just like the detective of the same last name Warlock solves crimes, but instead of using his powers of deduction, he uses powers of a more magical nature. With the help of his ever resourceful and trusted companion, Dr. Watson, Holmes solves some of the oddest and supernatural cases in England. Having recently returned from the dead, Warlock needs some serious recuperation time, so he can appear a little less corpse-like.

As they blunder towards doom, Warlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson find themselves inconvenienced by a variety of eldritch beings. Christmas brings a goose that doesn't let being cooked slow it down; they meet an electricity demon, discover why being a redhead is even trickier than one might imagine, and Holmes attempts an Irish accent. And, naturally, Moriarty is hanging around...in some form or other.

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 Hedi Peacock and I have a secret. I'm not human, and I have the pointy Fae ears and Were inner-bitch to prove it. As fairy tales go, my childhood was damn near perfect, all fur and magic until a werewolf killed my father and the Fae executed my mother. I've never forgiven either side. Especially Robson Trowbridge. He was a part-time werewolf, a full-time bastard, and the first and only boy I ever loved. That is, until he became the prime suspect in my father's death....

In his trademark suit of black armor and skull-like helm, armed with a demon-forged axe, Corvis Rebaine twice brought death and destruction to Imphallion - willingly slaughtering countless innocents in pursuit of a more just society. But that was the old Rebaine. Before he killed the mad warlord Audriss and banished the demon Khanda. Before he lost his wife and children, who could not forgive or forget his violent crimes. 

In his trademark suit of black armor and skull-like helm, armed with a demon-forged axe, Corvis Rebaine twice brought death and destruction to Imphallion - willingly slaughtering countless innocents in pursuit of a more just society. But that was the old Rebaine. Before he killed the mad warlord Audriss and banished the demon Khanda. Before he lost his wife and children, who could not forgive or forget his violent crimes. 

In the realm of Imphallion, there once was a nightmare - a living nightmare known only as the Terror of the East. Nigh invulnerable in his magical black armor and aided by unholy minions, he laid waste to all in his path on his all-consuming quest to bring order to the land. His order. Then, at what should have been his moment of triumph, his will failed. And his army fell. Taking a young noblewoman as hostage, he escaped, vanishing into darkest memory.

In the realm of Imphallion, there once was a nightmare - a living nightmare known only as the Terror of the East. Nigh invulnerable in his magical black armor and aided by unholy minions, he laid waste to all in his path on his all-consuming quest to bring order to the land. His order. Then, at what should have been his moment of triumph, his will failed. And his army fell. Taking a young noblewoman as hostage, he escaped, vanishing into darkest memory.

Warlock Holmes may have demons in his head, but now Dr. John Watson has a mummy in his bloodstream. Specifically that of the sorcerer Xantharaxes, who when shredded and dissolved in an 8 percent solution, results in some extremely odd but useful prophetic dreams. There's also the small matter of Watson falling for yet another damsel-du-jour, and Warlock deciding that his companion needs some domestic bliss....

The news is bad. The stage driver's wife who is expecting a child has taken a serious fall and now needs her husband. Dave Judd will take his place driving the stagecoach filled with passengers who want to get through before the bitter cold that is lifting becomes a blizzard.