There's something strange in the neighborhood, and Sam Hammett's not going to call anyone. Her family runs the business Paranormal Pest Pursuers, Inc.--unrivaled by anyone...except Monsters 'R Us, their new competitors recently arrived from Russia. And from the look of that crew, and Nicolas Strakhov, their boss, the war to come will be anything but cold. Luckily, business is booming, so Sam'll soon be bustin' up, bustin' down--bustin' every which way but loose. And there's more than the ghost of a chance she'll fall in love

Talk show host Lucy Campbell has made a career of interviewing Druid witches, trolls, and an occasional goblin. But now she wants more. Only she wasn't expecting to get involved with a vampire detective who has a slight incubus problem

When your father is not only an infamous pirate but the husband of six vanished wives, respectability’s hard to come by. That’s why Eve invented herself a husband. How else was a nineteenth-century gal to follow her dreams and become one of those newfangled psychiatrists? Certainly she will never run The Towers, London’s preeminent asylum for potty paranormals. But now, wackier than the werewolves and loonier than the leprechaun she’s treating, something new takes shape—and he has the name of her never-before-seen husband and the body to drive a girl absolutely batty…

Having lived long amongst London's ton, Ethel Jane Van Helsing was an astute female who well knew her faults. Her skin was marred with freckles, her nose was too snub and her hair of a brown that reflected neither gold nor red highlights. She had a face unremarkable in its plainness. And yet...at a masquerade ball, anything could happen. There, until the stroke of midnight, even an ugly duckling could become a swan. But tonight was not for fowl play. You see, plain or not, Jane came from distinguished stock. Van Helsings. And Van Helsings didn't worry about soiling their pelisses; they were slayers. Where other young ladies were told no monsters lurked under their beds, Jane's parents had explained the often-handsome creatures lay in beds, crypts, and at balls like these. Her father, the Major, had shown her very early how to use the sharp end of a stick, where and when the sun didn't shine. Tonight, everything was at stake. Something was going to get driven very deep into a heart, or she wasn't the Reluctant Miss Van Helsing

The problem, Clair realizes, is that she’s a Frankenstein. Everyone in the family is a success, while all she’s managed is a humiliating misadventure with pigs. But her spirits are rising. The Journal of Scientific Discovery promises to publish a paper on the Discovery of the Decade, and she has a doozy. She simply has to prove Baron Huntsley—man of distinction—is a vampire. With his midnight-black hair, soul-piercing eyes and shiny white teeth, what else could he be? Oh yes, the Baron wants a bite of her or she’s no scientist. Pretty soon she’ll expose him, and on everybody’s lips will be…