Science Fiction & Fantasy

The strangest thing about Annie's new reality isn't that she's now in the body of a seven-year-old child, the beloved Lillith, feared dead by her family after a particularly nasty bout of pneumonia. It's that she's constantly having to conceal her adult intellect, which is not only advanced but otherworldly. Sure, being a young woman and a grad student in twenty-first-century America had its challenges, but this life as Lillith presents even tougher obstacles. She must tread carefully to conceal her vast knowledge of biology, math, physics, and . . . being an adult.

As a rising actor, Kanin's body is his career. His identity. His life. All that is taken from him when he dies and is reborn as a bottle of ink. Now living as the heart of a magical glass servant, Kanin's new purpose is to perform a senile wizard's yard work—a role this world's magic system seems intent on enforcing. All that might have been manageable if a murderous shadow monster wasn't hunting his very soul. But he's not in it alone.

Edie is done with crime. Eight years behind bars changes a person—costs them too much time with too many of the people who need them most. And it’s all Angel’s fault. She sold Edie out in what should have been the greatest moment of their lives. Instead, Edie was shipped off to the icy prison planet spinning far below the soaring skybridges and neon catacombs of Kepler space station—of home—to spend the best part of a decade alone. But then a chance for early parole appears out of nowhere and Edie steps into the pallid sunlight to find none other than Angel waiting—and she has an offer.

Prosperity comes at a price. In Praesidium, that price is freedom. Strict laws and a harsh penal code ensure ordinary criminals become bond-slaves. But the most serious traitors are turned over to the wizard to be suspended in a dreamless frozen state known as Stasis. Miner is one such criminal, suspended forever—until Ennek, the youngest son of Praesidium’s Chief, stirred by the horror of Miner’s fate, sets him free. Ennek has always skirted the edge of the law.

In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake.