Showing results by author "Callie Colby" in All Categories

A survivor of the occult. A demon prince with a sudden, inexplicable urge to mow the lawn. I joined the support group for the stale donuts and the shared trauma. I just wanted a safe place to complain about the time a poltergeist hijacked my body. I didn’t expect to sit next to Malphas. He’s seven feet of horned, terrifying muscle who smells like brimstone and danger. He should be ruling the Underworld. Instead, he’s panic-spiraling because he can’t stop thinking about cargo shorts. Apparently, he was "reverse-possessed" by a Midwestern ghost named Gary. Now, I’m stuck with a ...

Everyone jokes that the local big-box Swedish furniture store is a maze. They don't know that the bedroom department is literally built on top of a shifting Fae Labyrinth. I just wanted a bookshelf. I took a wrong turn at the meatballs, walked through a display wardrobe, and ended up in the Deep Fae Realm. Now I’m lost in an endless corridor of flat-pack boxes and confusing arrows, hunted by shadow beasts. My only hope of survival? Grael, the Fairy-Fae Guardian of the Maze. Grael is seven feet of winged, muscle-bound terrifying. He’s also hopelessly lost. He’s been wandering these ...

Valerius is the Underworld’s greatest disappointment: an incubus bored to death by pleasure. For Valerius, the act of seduction is tedious, the mechanics are messy, and the payoff is never worth the effort. He’s starving, wasting away in the mortal realm because he’d rather wither than endure another night of meaningless friction. He needs sustenance, but he needs it refined. He needs pure energy. Then he meets Sir Kaelen of the Silver Order. Kaelen is six-foot-four of holy muscle, righteous fury, and a vow of celibacy so strictly enforced it has turned him into a walking nuclear ...

A broke college grad with bad luck. A demon who refuses to leave my couch. I was just trying to manifest some abundance. Light a candle, chant a little, maybe get lucky with rent money. Instead, I woke up to six feet of smug, tattooed demon lounging in my living room, eating my cereal and mocking my life choices. Apparently, I signed some kind of contract, and now he can’t leave until he fulfills a “favor.” Which, so far, has meant reorganizing my kitchen, sabotaging my dating apps, and making suggestive comments every time I so much as look at him. Asmodeus is arrogant, ridiculously ...

A legendary demon, now fluffy and furious. A veterinarian convinced I need saving. Imagine being a Duke of Hell—terrifying, powerful, deeply respected—and then getting cursed into the body of an oversized, fluffy black cat with horns, useless wings, and a hiss that somehow earns you chin scratches. That’s my life now. Morax, reduced to Finn’s pampered “rescue” pet. My threats are dismissed as adorable. My rage? Met with treats and belly rubs, which I secretly... don't hate. Finn is infuriatingly kind, blind to every hint of darkness I throw his way. No matter how I plot or glare...

A fairy prince with a contract. A human who really should have read the fine print. I was just trying to make rent. Cater a fancy fairy wedding, smile at the guests, don’t steal any of the silverware—easy enough. Or so I thought. Somewhere between passing hors d’oeuvres and signing the invoice, I apparently agreed to marry the groom’s brother. Who, as it turns out, is not just any fairy, but the fairy prince. Now I’m being whisked off to some glittering palace I can’t pronounce, expected to wear clothes that look more like lingerie than actual outfits, and introduced as “His ...

I have a label maker, a color-coded system, and a zero-tolerance policy for clutter. Lord Vane has a zero-tolerance policy for letting go. I was hired to declutter his gothic estate, not manage a six-foot-five High Fae with massive, iridescent wings and a magpie complex. Vane collects everything: cursed mirrors, shiny candy wrappers, ancient gold, and buttons. When I hold up a rusted, possibly haunted birdcage and ask, "Does this spark joy?" Vane doesn't just say yes—he hisses, flares those dazzling feathers to block the door, and dares me to touch his treasures again. But somewhere ...

There is a clause in the HOA bylaws for everything: trash can placement, fence height, and acceptable shades of beige. There is not a clause for a neighbor who is literally the King of the Wild Hunt. My new neighbor, Lord Oberon, is a menace. His "lawn" is a sentient briar patch that whinges when trimmed. His "garden gnomes" are actual goblins that bite the mailman. And he refuses to acknowledge the three hundred dollars in fines I’ve taped to his gate. I treat our interactions as a war for the soul of the neighborhood. Oberon, apparently, treats them as foreplay. To him, my aggressive ...

He fell out of the sky naked, smug, and gorgeous enough to stop time—or at least traffic. Naturally, I assumed he was some half-feral fashion influencer having a breakdown. LA’s full of them. Turns out he’s not just vain—he’s literally Vanity. A demon prince, banished to Earth without his powers, his wardrobe, or any sense of personal boundaries. He refuses to wear polyester. He flirts like it’s a competitive sport. And every time he gets turned on, my studio mirrors shatter like they’ve seen too much. Now I’ve got a narcissistic hellspawn draped in my finest silks, ...

A wedding bouquet. A royal mix-up. A very confusing marriage. All I was supposed to do was drop off the flowers. I work for my aunt’s florist shop, I had the address, and yeah—the manor looked a little weird, but I figured rich people were just into moss and weird lighting. Next thing I know, I’ve been dragged inside, handed a crown, and kissed by a very intense, very attractive man who introduces himself as Crown Prince Sylvaris of the Summer Court… and my soon-to-be husband. Apparently, I just delivered myself to the wrong dimension. According to Sylvaris—who’s gorgeous, ...

They told me exorcisms were a battle for souls. They didn’t warn me about him. Lucien—tall, charming, impossibly smug—was supposed to be the evil I drove out. Instead, he’s the temptation that moved in. He laughs when I recite holy verses, leans in close enough to make me forget the words, and insists he’s not wicked—just lonely. Every time I tell him to leave, he just smiles and asks what’s for dinner. And maybe I’m damned already… because I keep cooking for him. It started with stolen glances and teasing touches. Now he’s in my space, my thoughts, my bed—whispering ...

A fairy prince who can’t be touched. A human who can’t seem to stop. After one too many bad decisions, I’m crashing on my cousin’s couch, desperate to get my act together. The last thing I expect is to stumble into a job at the weirdest little café I’ve ever seen—one that caters to the fae. It’s just coffee and pastries. Until he walks in. Thalen is… impossible. All sharp cheekbones, silken hair, and frosty glares. He’s obviously one of them—the kind of fairy that humans aren’t even supposed to look at for too long. And he definitely doesn’t want me looking at him. ...

A fairy prince playing for keeps. A human who was just here for the cash. I signed up for a cheesy dating show to fake a romance and score enough money to fix my life. But I never expected the lead to be an actual fairy prince—one with a sinful smile, magic in his touch, and a habit of backing me into corners when the cameras aren’t looking. While the other contestants bat their lashes and play fairy-tale perfect, Eirian only wants me, the stubborn human who won’t swoon for his spells. But every enchanted hot tub, every midnight challenge, every brush of his lips against my skin is ...

A fairy prince in hiding. A human who didn’t sign up for this. When my landlord said I’d be getting a roommate to help cover rent, I didn’t expect him. Auren shows up with designer luggage, a crown-shaped dent in his hair, and absolutely no idea how to function like a normal human. He can’t work the washing machine, burns water trying to boil it, and keeps accidentally summoning flower petals every time he sneezes. Oh, and he’s apparently some kind of fairy prince “undercover” in the mortal world. Sharing an apartment with him is a nightmare. A gorgeous, sparkly, maddening ...

A fairy prince who can’t figure out the copier. A human stuck training him. When my boss said she was hiring a temp to help out at the office, I thought: great. Maybe someone competent enough to keep me from drowning in emails for a week. Instead, I got him. Ryn is… impossible. Gorgeous, overdressed, and somehow both charming and completely useless. He can’t work the copier. He thinks a spreadsheet is a kind of spell. And he keeps calling me “darling” like we’re in a 19th-century romance novel. Oh—and he’s apparently a fairy prince in exile, “hiding” in the mortal world ...

A fairy prince’s chosen champion. A human who can’t even do his own laundry. One minute I was on my couch, halfway through a six-hour gaming binge. The next? I woke up in a glittering throne room with a crown-wearing pretty boy announcing that I was his “summoned warrior, foretold by prophecy.” Which is hilarious, because the only thing I’m good at fighting is lag. Prince Irian looks like he stepped straight out of a fantasy RPG—sharp cheekbones, silken hair, armor that probably costs more than my car. He’s deadly serious about this whole “savior of the realm” thing. ...

A fairy prince in disguise. The human who took him home. I thought I was just doing a good deed when I rescued a stray dog in the park. He was huge, all silvery fur and sad eyes, and followed me home like I owed him something. So I kept him. Named him Ash. Started walking him every morning, buying fancy kibble, letting him hog my bed. Then one night I woke up to find a man standing in my living room—tall, gorgeous, and completely naked—claiming to be my dog. Apparently Ash isn’t just some random mutt. He’s a fairy prince, hiding from enemies by wearing a glamour… which I somehow ...