Sam Cheever

I'm Glynn Forester and I'm Magis. More. I enhance and strengthen magical energy. My power augments rather than creates. But sometimes More is not enough.My world is fractured between magic and non-magic. The magical elite rule. And they are ruthless and corrupt. They want what I protect. But protecting it has been my family's job for time before time. So I hide. I hide from those who would attempt to use my abilities for unscrupulous purposes. I hide to save innocents from their venom. But something's changing. The world around me is pulsing with malevolent magic, I realize I no longer have the luxury of anonymity. It's hard to give up my old ways. But I may not have a choice. Others will need my help. And if I deny them I'll be no better than those who threaten my world. Will my magic make a difference in this new reality? I can offer Magis. More. But will it be enough? And will there be anything left of me when it's done?

How in the name of the goddess's favorite sports bra am I going to do this Magical Librarian job? I have no idea what I'm doing. And the woman who's supposed to be training me is...well, let's just say she's distracted and leave it at that. I guess I'll bumble through. It's become something of a trademark move for me. My name is Naida Griffith and I'm a sorceress. I actually found that out not too long ago. I've lived with an undefined something burning in my belly for a while, feeling as if something wasn't quite right under my skin. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, I started getting headaches. Bad ones. And random stuff started following me around. Recently I was approached by a group called the Soci t of Dire Magic to become Keeper of the Artifacts. A magical librarian. Given that magical artifacts have taken to following me around, I decided I might have an aptitude for the job. So I said yes. But in the first few days, I've been flogged by flip flops, bludgeoned by gnomes, and discovered a corpse in a suitcase. Then there's the woman who's supposed to be training me. She's...interesting. Will I survive the training long enough to get the job as an artifact librarian? You might as well ask me if a caterpillar gets manis or pedis. Who knows? But I know one thing for sure. This gig is hard. I'm going to do my best to succeed. Or die trying.

She's just a country girl who loves her dog...and her cat...and her pig. But a cold-blooded killer might suck the sweet right out of her bucolic little world. Pence Lucklin has always had the luck of the Irish, though he's about as far from Irish as you can get. It is, after all, how he got his nickname, Lucky Lucklin. But it appears that his luck has run out in a big way. That's putting it mildly, I guess. Since Lucky just turned up dead, hanging from a tool hook at my family's auction business. Was Lucky's death meant as a warning for me? Could this mean the return of an old villain? Will Hal and I be called on to help the local Deer Hollow police find a killer?In the end, luck probably won't have much to do with the outcome. Luck can be made. And as death stalks the people I love, I'm fully prepared to force the hand of fate and create my own luck. Or die trying.

Good parenting advice: Only allow your small frog, cat, and hobgoblin limited and supervised television time, or risk stunting their mental and physical growth.Yeah, it might already be too late for that...It seemed like good, innocent fun. A trip back to a simpler time, a fun jaunt to the "good old days". It turned out to be anything but harmless. The "kids" loved the old, black and white shows. But, per usual at Croakies, things devolved quickly, transforming "quiet" time into a heart-pounding adventure. And of course, as you'd expect, the frog, the cat, and the hobgoblin are right in the middle of it all. I'm a total derf at this whole parenting thing. And my "children" are brats. Holy flippin' frog flatulence. So much for the good old days...

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Bumpkin, died a very shiny death...Rudy-Bob Hortmann has never quite gotten the hang of making friends. He doesn't much like peopling, mostly preferring the company of his pot-bellied pig, Ethel Squeaks to humanoid types. But there's one exception. Rudy-Bob loves kids. So for Christmas every year he gives himself a present. He plays Santa at the annual Deer Hollow Christmas party. Only this year, Rudy-Bob doesn't make it out of the Santa suit when the Pageant is done. Instead, Deputy Sheriff Arno Willager finds Rudy-Bob literally chillin' in a snowbank, his bulbous nose flashing red through the snow.That's where I come into the picture. I'm Joey Fulle and I'm pretty good at finding bodies around my place on the outskirts of Deer Hollow. I didn't actually find this one, of course. But I'm fully invested in locating his killer. 'Cause, with the help of my handsome PI boyfriend Hal, my sweet and goofy Pitbull Caphy, and my opinionated Siamese cat, LaLee, I'm also pretty good at finding killers. Sometimes, even before they find me...

Ancient Chinese proverb says, give cat mouse and give frog fly, they'll soothe your monsters so you won't die.Okay, maybe I just made that up. But I'll try anything at this point. Croakies is suddenly being overrun by monsters. Yeah. Monsters. And I have no clue where they're coming from. Are they tied to something we've done in the past? Do they have anything to do with the strange phone calls I've been getting from a really prickly local author? Most importantly, how are we going to explain to the humans about the appearance of a certain giantnormous blue monster flinging car-sized cookies around? Where did all these squirrel squattin' songbirds come from? And, for the love of the goddess's favorite spanks, why is there ice all over the floor?Sigh. The frog and the cat? Yeah, they're really pretty useless on this one. But at least they're living the good life thanks to my tireless efforts to feed, house, and clean up after them and their naughty friend Hobs. Yay me. Mega monster boogers This magic wrangling gig is for the birds. And the frogs. And the cats. And the hobgoblins. And, apparently, for the monsters hiding at Croakies.

Farmer Blue has lost his cows and doesn't know where to find them. But Farmer blue has found guess who, to wrangle the magic that hides them. I'm really not much of a country mouse. Up until recently, my idea of the great outdoors has been Enchanted Park in the center of the city. But my job is to wrangle magical artifacts. So, when a local farmer calls to tell me his dairy cows are disappearing and he thinks it's the work of a rogue artifact...sigh...it appears I'm about to get a crash course in becoming a farm girl.These cows haven't just meandered away chewing their cuds. They've actually disappeared. Poof As in here one minute, gone the next. Which means it's up to me to don tall rubber boots and traverse the cow bumps...slog through the cow patties...and reach into the abyss to try to drag them back. I'm not sure how the frog and the cat are going to help with this one. I really didn't want to bring them along at all. But you know how insistent they can be...Wait...where's the frog? Has anybody seen my cat?Slimy Wicked Where on earth have you gone?Poof?

'Tis the season for great folly...walawalawalawalala...ribbit. It's Christmas time at Croakies. The tree is up. The stockings are hung. And Christmas tunes are turning the atmosphere jolly. After a tumultuous Samhain, I've found my chi again and I'm starting to enjoy the season of love and giving. Yeah. You probably know how this is going to end. When Sebille suggests I open the bookstore up to a small holiday party, I foolishly agree. How was I supposed to know that the hobgoblin would decide it would be fun to hide everybody's stuff? Or that we'd be hit with a freak winter storm that confined everybody inside for the duration. Or that a "You're me but who am I?" spell would be released inside the shop, switching everybody's identities and creating general chaos and hysteria? I could probably deal with all that if it weren't for the fact that my friend, Lea...the one person who could possibly reverse the spell...was ensconced in SB the parrot, with no opposable thumbs for spelling. And me? Of course, I'm sitting fat and squishy inside Mr. Slimy. Thank goodness Rustin isn't currently in residence, or it would be really crowded in here. Who spelled my party? What do a pair of Santa's elves have to do with it? And why have old enemies suddenly become new friends? I apparently have a little holiday mystery to solve inside Croakies, and I have no idea how I'm going to solve it with everybody mixed up and some of us human.Have I told you I hate this season? Ribbit

Come to Silver Hills. Where making friends can prove deadly and creating enemies might be easier than you think. Emotions are aflutter at Silver Hills as a new heartthrob moves into the residence. Will all that fluttering still a single heart? And if love dies, will Flo's very own Amore fall under the crosshairs of the estimable Detective Brent Peters? Agnes and Hertz are on the outs. Secrets tear the tender fabric of a pulsing heart. What do the secrets have to do with murder? Affairs of le coeur aside, will Agnes break the clothing store shopping for a party dress? What will break during a rousing class of Zumba? And will Flo be able to soldier through her dance injuries to follow a chubby cherub to a killer? So many questions. So much hopping, tapping, and fluttering. And still a murder to solve. What will Flo and Co do? They'll do what they always do, of course. Hearts out and chins up, they're goin' in

Magical chaos, old enemies, new adversaries, and danger around every corner...I HATE this time of year Okay, I'll admit it, this is my least favorite time of year. Yeah, I understand the enchantment of the season...I get that...but most people don't have jobs that involve wrangling magic. During the last three months of the year, magical influences run rampant. And that means a lot more work for me. And this year is the worst of all. Why you ask? Because I'm not only trying to wrangle the out-of-control magic artifacts flying around all over the place. This year, I also have to try to keep a magical cat and a talking frog out of trouble. Goddess take the wheel. Things are about to get really ugly.

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but wrinkles might actually kill me Just when I think I understand life, the Universe flings a magic booger at me. It just doesn't pay to think you've got a handle on things. For example, my favorite customer, Mrs. Foxladle, got into a simple disagreement with her book club friends over their obsession with youth and beauty. The next thing you know, they're all dead. Did Mrs. Foxladle kill them?It certainly seems like a possibility. But I'm still holding on to the hope that I'm dealing with a rogue magical artifact in the hands of someone with diabolical intent. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to figure out what it is and who's wielding it with deadly results. I was counting on Detective Grym, a real rock of a guy, to help me find the culprits. But Grym's lifespan just turned unpredictable. (You could say things are a bit rocky for him right now.) Which leaves solving the mystery up to me and my friends. It's just a really good thing I have a cat and a frog and... Yeah, about that... I'm really no closer to figuring out how to use them either. Holy goblin phlegm This magic wrangling stuff is hard

She has a frog and a cat, and neither one is what it seems Sure, I understand, we all have bills to pay. Personally, I could use a bit of extra cash too. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't kill for it. At least...not without dark magic influence. And that's exactly the problem. Dark. Magic. Influence.My first challenge for the day is finding that artifact and putting it under lock and key before it kills anybody else. My second challenge is figuring out how to deal with a bossy frog and a pushy cat. Which of the two do you suppose will give me the bigger headache? Yeah. That's what I think too. The frog and cat are going to be the death of my sanity. Maybe I should put them under lock and key too.

She's got a lot more to lose now...and somebody's determined to make sure she loses it all.Blaise is at it again. She's still searching for that perfect job. But even when she thinks she might have found a job that could be more of a career than just a 9 to 5 gig, something always happens to get in her way. Usually, that something involves a corpse...But this time, Blaise's past comes back to haunt her in a big way. She'd thought she put that whole, seeing a murder on the beach thing behind her. But it seems somebody doesn't want to leave the past where it belongs. And her past problems are about to become her current nightmare.

Come to Silver Hills. Where fowl plans can either mean dinner out or the deadly designs of a chicken-livered killer. When Vlad's opponent for the Silver City Mayoral race succumbs to fowl deeds, he seriously changes the pecking order in Vlad's favor. But the victim's death has made Vlad king of the roost, so the Silver Hills night manager quickly becomes the obvious suspect. Plucky investigators Flo and Co. are certainly no strangers to Vlad's evil ways. But they're also not egg-xactly convinced he did it. So, when Flo learns that the victim, a wealthy local chicken farmer, had been trying to reach her when he was killed, she's more than a little curious about why. Will their investigation shine a light on a killer's fowl deeds before he flies the coop? Or will Flo chicken out when the villain threatens to go all cock-a-doodle-do on her bad self? There's only one way to find out. And you already know what it is...Yep, Flo and Co. are goin' in

It was a simple holiday getaway...a chance to regroup and figure out how to move forward after losing the man of her dreams...then she witnessed a murder on the beach...Dolfe Honeybun broke up with Blaise Runa because her party girl ways were driving him to distraction. Unfortunately, out of sight does NOT mean out of mind. And when his favorite party girl sees something she shouldn't and finds herself being chased by a cold-blooded killer, reason shuts down and Dolfe's heart takes over. If only he can get to her in time

For Blaise Runa, a job working the front desk at the local veterinary clinic is a fun but temporary diversion...a chance to spend every day with Miss Ivy, her adorable fur baby, while she continues to search for a career. Unfortunately, the fun is soon sucked right out of the job when Blaise discovers one of the veterinary technicians poisoned in the kennel. The attack is quickly labeled the work of an activist group that resents the medical and financial resources "squandered" on pets. But is there something less obvious...and possibly more sinister...at work? Working alone and swimming against the tide of general opinion, Blaise soon suspects that she and her yummy fianc e, Dolfe Honeybun, might be fighting for more than justice for the vet tech. They might actually be battling to save a whole clinic full of beloved pets from someone who would be happy to see them dead. And if they're not very careful, sweet little Miss Ivy might take her place at the top of a killer's list.