Ravens Hollow Investigations

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 thought moving to Ravens Hollow would be simple. One month into my new supernatural life, I figured my biggest challenges would be housebreaking my oversized puppy and writing fluff pieces for the local paper. Then dark magic hits The Oracle, pulling me straight into an investigation tangled with vindictive sea witches, feuding werewolf packs, and ancient tree sprite magic even the coven can't crack. Now I'm chasing clues with Police Chief Whip — an immortal siren cursed with secrets — and Alex, a too-charming lion shifter who knows how to get under my skin.

When I pitched a missing persons story set in a South London suburb, I expected my editor to beg me to bag us a front page exclusive. Instead, she banned me from investigating and threw in a thinly veiled threat on my career. But here’s the thing about being a damn good investigative journalist… sometimes you have to ignore your editor. Armed with my new canine partner, I headed into the woods unsure of what I’d find. What I definitely didn’t expect was a mysterious supernatural woman in stilettos, three overly eager tributes, and the kind of bite that doesn’t come from a mosquito.