Ivy Wilde, the laziest witch in the West, is still entangled with the Hallowed Order of Magical Enlightenment. That's not a bad thing, however, because it gives her plenty of excuses to spend more time with sapphire-eyed Raphael Winter, her supposed nemesis. And when he comes knocking because he needs her to spy on the latest series of Enchantment, she jumps at the chance. Hanging around a film set can't be hard - or dangerous - right?

Let's get one thing straight - Ivy Wilde is not a heroine. In fact she's probably the last witch in the world you'd call if you needed a magical helping hand, regardless of her actual abilities. If it were down to Ivy, she'd spend all day every day on her sofa, where she could watch TV, munch junk food, and talk to her feline familiar to her heart's content. However, when a bureaucratic disaster ends up with Ivy as the victim of a case of mistaken identity, she's yanked very unwillingly into Arcane Branch.

Since the moment I was ripped from my mother's womb, I've been an outcast among my own kind. The Sidhe might possess magical Gifts, unbelievable wealth, and unfathomable power, but I don't want a thing to do with them. I ran away from their lands in the Highlands of Scotland when I was 11 years old, and I've never looked back. I don't need a clan. I've got my own family of highly skilled thieves who mean more to me than any Sidhe ever could.

I thought I understood power. My parents taught me that magic attracts equal danger, and everything I've seen since becoming a demon contractor confirms it. I've witnessed how power twists and corrupts - and I've tasted power no human should wield. I thought I knew greed. Ambition and avarice drove my family into hiding. My parents died for someone else's greed. I've never hunted anything in my life, but now I'm hunting their killer - with my demon's help. I thought I'd seen evil. But with each step closer to my parents' murderer, I'm uncovering a different sort of evil.

Um eines direkt klarzustellen: Ivy Wilde ist keine Heldin. Eigentlich ist sie die allerletzte Hexe auf der Welt, die man rufen würde, sollte man magische Unterstützung benötigen (was nicht heißt, dass sie es nicht könnte!). Ginge es nach Ivy selbst, würde sie am liebsten den ganzen Tag auf der Couch hängen, Serien gucken, Junkfood mampfen und mit ihrer Katze Streitgespräche führen. Doch durch einen Bürokratiefehler wird Ivy Opfer einer vertauschten Identität und unfreiwillig - sehr, sehr unfreiwillig!

Broke, almost homeless, and recently fired. Those are my official reasons for answering a wanted ad for a skeevy-looking bartender gig. It went downhill the moment they asked me to do a trial shift instead of an interview - to see if I'd mesh with their "special" clientele. I think that part went great. Their customers were complete dickheads, and I was an asshole right back. That's the definition of fitting in, right? I expected to get thrown out on my ass. Instead, they...offered me the job?

Integrity Taylor should have been a Clan princess. Instead she's lived a life on the very periphery of society. However, now that she's learned more about her heritage and the magic that she's capable of wielding, she's not going to hide in the shadows any longer. The once-in-a-generation Sidhe Games are going to provide the perfect opportunity for her to win back her birthright, and the fact that she'll be going head-to-head, toe-to-toe, and mouth-to-mouth with golden-haired Byron Moncrieffe might just be the icing on the cake.

Integrity Taylor has regained possession of her ancestral lands - and inherited a whole host of new problems. The specter of what really happened to her parents is casting a shadow over everything, while Fomori demons are being sighted up and down the Highlands. It doesn't help that Aifric Moncrieffe still seems determined to see her dead, and emerald-eyed Byron remains stubbornly blind to his father's true nature. Integrity is determined to stay in control of her own destiny, however, even if it means confronting the darkness across the Veil yet again.

When I arrived at my uncle's house, I expected my relatives to be like me - outcast sorcerers who don't practice magic. I was right about the sorcery, but wrong about everything else. Rule two: Don't listen to the demon. My uncle chose a far deadlier power. He calls creatures of darkness into our world, binds them into service contracts, and sells them to the highest bidder. And I'm supposed to act like I don't know how illegal and dangerous it is. Rule three: Don't talk to the demon. All I had to do was keep my nose out of it.

It's not easy pretending to be dead - especially when it feels as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Between an unfulfilled prophecy, the demon-occupied Lowlands, the continuing power of murderous Aifric Moncrieffe - not to mention her constant yearnings for Byron - Integrity Adair has a lot to worry about. Still, how hard can it really be to save Scotland, maintain her morals, get the guy, and keep her sense of humor?

When I found myself facing down the scariest black-magic felon in the city, practically daring him to abduct me, I had to wonder exactly how I ended up here. It all started when I accidentally landed a job as a bartender - but not at a bar. At a guild, populated by mages, sorcerers, alchemists, witches, and psychics. Good thing this lame-o human is adaptable, right? Then my favorite guild members - three sexy, powerful, and intermittently charming mages - asked for my help. Did they want access to my encyclopedic knowledge of cocktails? Oh no.

I'm bound to a demon. For my entire life, I avoided magic at all costs. Now, I'm responsible for a demon who wields magic more powerful than the toughest mage or sorcerer. Demons are evil. That's what my textbooks say. That's what I see. He's ruthless, he's temperamental, he's cold. But he protects me without fail. I wonder if he's hiding a heart behind his hostility. My demon is a monster.

Three months ago, I landed a job as a bartender. But not at a bar-at a guild. Yeah, the magic kind. I'm not a badass mage like my three smokin' hot best friends. I'm not a sorcerer or an alchemist, or even a wussy witch. I'm just a human, slinging drinks like a pro and keeping my non-magical nose out of mythic business. Seriously, I know my limits. So why am I currently standing in a black-magic ritual circle across from a fae lord? Somewhere behind me, my three mage friends are battling for their lives.

When I first landed a bartending job at the local guild, I didn't know a thing about magic. These days, I'm practically an expert on the different magical classes, but there's one nobody ever talks about: Demonica. Turns out they have a good reason for that. My guild is strictly hellion-free, because who wants to risk life and limb to control the biggest bullies on the mythic playground? Well, some people do, and now a demon has been loosed in the city. My three best friends are determined to slay it, but even badass combat mages are critically out-magicked.

One corpse. Several bizarre looking attackers. Some very strange magical powers. And a severe bout of amnesia. Madrona is not having a great week. It's going to be okay, though. All she has to do is find out who she really is, protect a soap star from being attacked by a stalker, and work out why so many people seem so afraid of her. Because surely she's a good person. Right?