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Spell-slinger. Vampire-slayer. Magical albino ferret-rescuer. Meet Jacqueline Denna Knight, the best wizard detective in the city. Jax turns vampires to ash and pain into magic. She also has a knack for finding things. So, when a distraught - and obscenely wealthy - elf calls Jax at midnight to hire her for an intriguing job, she grabs the opportunity with both hands. But what Jax doesn’t know is that this case is going to unravel her life.

I know you don’t want to talk sometimes. Sometimes because it hurts and sometimes because you’re just not supposed to talk about what you want to talk about. Sometimes it can be hard to say, “this is beautiful,” when no one else can see what you see. Or, “Here, this is where the pain is.” But some part of you knows, the truth about the words you cannot say is that they only hurt until you say them. They only hurt until the person who needs to hear them, hears them.

It seems like everything and everyone is out to keep Jax from stopping the vamps before they can bring about the New Dawn Throne. As the veil between the mundane and the magical continues to unravel, she'll discover just how many friends she truly has.

Spell-slinger. Vampire-slayer. Magical albino ferret-rescuer. Meet Jacqueline Denna Knight, the best wizard detective in the city. Jax turns vampires to ash and pain into magic. She also has a knack for finding things. So, when a distraught - and obscenely wealthy - elf calls Jax at midnight to hire her for an intriguing job, she grabs the opportunity with both hands.

War has arrived, and with it the only chance for peace may be gone forever if Asha can't get her rear end in gear. Barely recovered from the trauma she's suffered at the hands of the elven sister, she's on a mission to save the kidnapped girls - but success is far, far from guaranteed.

It'll take more than a lie to keep Kirsten safe. A creative assassin. A hit list hidden in a Doomsday seed vault. A woman with an unusual gift who has to untangle the conspiracy...before it kills her. When Kirsten digs into her mother’s past she discovers a shocking betrayal that derails her life. Will she uncover the mystery before the hitman finds her?

J. T. Lawrence is back with more short stories that are creepier than ever. You won't be able to get these deliciously twisted tales out of your head... Grab them while they're hot and sticky. If you're a fan of Roald Dahl or Gillian Flynn, you'll love these unsettling stories....

Diverse, dark-humored, and deliciously bite-sized: USA Today best-selling author J. T. Lawrence ratchets up the tension with this compelling collection of short stories perfect for fans of Gillian Flynn and Roald Dahl.

Perfect for fans of Gillian Flynn and Roald Dahl, these stories are guaranteed to get under your skin. Diverse, dark-humored, and deliciously bite-sized: J. T. Lawrence doesn't disappoint with this brand-new collection of unsettling short stories.

Vividly set against the backdrop of 19th-century India and the British-owned sugarcane plantations of Natal, written with great tenderness and lyricism, Children of Sugarcane paints an intimate and wrenching picture of indenture told from a woman’s perspective.

Daiki finds a flash drive in his office, which leads him to a truth he is not ready to hear.

“Maybe,” says Margaret, “when you see this place you’ll understand. It’s like Club Med! There’s a heated pool and a rec centre and a cocktail bar and everything. They have 24-hour room service!” Andrew guffaws. “A cocktail bar? At a nursing home? What’s next? Happy Hour?”

The groomer shook her head, her stubborn silence adding fuel to my fury. She glanced at the dog as if he would back her up in some way, but I could tell he was beginning to get the idea. He was starting to understand that, despite his excellent breeding, he currently looked like a mangey pavement special. I wondered if I should get him a cone for his neck so that he wouldn't have to witness this new, burning humiliation.

A man makes a horrific discovery in the crim colony silo he's imprisoned in.

“There’s the drive back home, invariably in the dark. Not safe.” “She has plenty of space. We could have just stayed over.” Linda shook her head. “No. Not allowed. Against the rules.” “What do you mean?” Andrew took off his glasses and frowned at her. “Hodgey was always begging us to stay the night. I’ve never understood - " Linda drummed her fingers on her knees.“It’s just a thing, okay? An agreement.” Andrew’s furrows deepened. “Between you and Hodge?” “Between Peter and I. We sibling-swore.”

Red Riding Hood, retold by the (fictional) AI Millenniarellabot after being fed fairy tales and texts on euthanasia.

A man knows he deserves to be haunted for what he has done; he just didn't expect it to happen this way.

The last thing I remember is Lorin’s scream as my roadster smashes into the guardrails and flips into the air. There was Lorin’s terrible wail, and then being silently airborne. Then there was nothing. Later, some bright lights shone through - hospital ceilings, I guess - and doctors' terse commands. I piece together the clues I overhear. The crash, the rocks, the fire. Agony like I've never experienced before burns my every organ and bone. Pipes and palpations. Needles, catheters, and a heart monitor that sounds like a ticking time bomb.

We pulled into a makeshift parking lot in the middle of a huge herd of sheep. There were two or three cars, but not a cave or another person in sight. We watched the sheep for a while, not sure what to do, when we saw people walk past us, making their way up the hill. That’s when we realized that we would be working hard for our little bit of fertility magic: We had to hike to get to the cave.

Welcome to the lesser-known country of The Kingdom of Moldavia, known for its overgrown jungles, giant pineapples, venomous bronze-fanged adders, and the finest butterfly silk in the world. It’s home to tigers so ferocious and so vain that the only way to survive an attack is to dangle your pocket mirror in front of their trembling fish-gut whiskers. It’s a place where firebugs will put on a pyrotechnic show for you and, while you are watching, the satin-smooth hands of vervet monkeys will swipe your wallet.