Also written by Cathy.

For four thousand years, the Watchers looked out at the world. Not one of them ever looked down.

Far beneath the stars, in a warm and singing dark that no light has ever touched, live the Infernals. They are not monsters. They are the floor of everything. Until a door is torn open in Ohio, and a single column of light falls all the way down into the Deep.

Kael has never seen anything. Now he can't stop looking. He falls through the sky above Lake Erie into a world too fragile to hold him — and at the bottom of a freezing river, a seventeen-year-old boy who has just pushed his little brother to safety hears a voice in the dark asking for somewhere to hide. He says yes.

Twenty-two days. One floor beneath everything. And one ordinary man standing between the light, the dark, and the end of the world.

Beyond the Veil, the Watchers stand at their windows over the human world and keep the oldest law there is: observe, record, never touch. Then Thariel, the brightest of them, steps through — and the city calls him the Chicago Ghost.

Daniel Reyes is an exhausted grad student who notices something no one else can: tiny, impossible ripples in gravity that follow the Ghost wherever he goes. Within days the government has him helping a secret program predict where the Ghost will appear next. They catch him on a beach at dawn.

Now a being made of light lies in a cell that slowly drinks him dry, and Seren, the most obedient Watcher in four thousand years, breaks the law and falls to earth to save him — without telling the one person helping her that he's helping destroy him.

Some doors were never meant to be opened. Daniel Reyes is about to walk through one.

Ten years ago, Cressida Duskmere was a name whispered like a curse.

Her father built his power on fear — accusing the innocent, selling names to the crown, and teaching his daughter that some people were born to be hated. She spent a decade trying to become someone else. A Warder. An envoy. A woman who atones quietly and asks for nothing.

Then the fen folk find her on a lonely road, and they've been waiting twenty-five years to collect.

What she finds on the other side of that fall is a farmer who hates her kind on sight, a half-blood who has hunted her family for half his life, and a laughing stranger who buys her eggs at market and turns out to be the last person in the kingdom she can afford to fall for. And that's before she learns her father kept one more secret — a sister Cressida didn't know she had, and an empire that wants her more than it has ever wanted anything.

A story about the debts we carry, the fires we're taught to fear, and the terrible, impossible cost of finding out exactly who deserves to be forgiven.

Isabel was raised human, and never asked to be anything else — until the mother who died to protect her left behind two things: a sapphire necklace, and a truth twenty years in the keeping.

She is Old Blood. Quarter-blood, to be precise — diluted, untrained, and by every rule the hidden world of Wychwood has ever lived by, powerless. The Convocation calls her Earthblood, a slur wrapped in doctrine, and dismisses her outright the first time she stands before them with nothing to show for what she is.

They are wrong. It just takes a war to prove it.

When the doctrine built to protect the "pure" finally cracks open — exposing decades of betrayal traded in coin and silence — it doesn't fall quietly. It drags an entire hidden society into civil war, Old Blood turned against Old Blood, in a conflict the valley swore could never happen. Only Isabel, and Rowan Thorne — heir to a gift no one in his family's long history has ever dared hold in full — stand any real chance of ending it before it ends them both.

A prophecy no bloodline could foresee. A love no doctrine could forbid. And a girl the whole hidden world once called powerless, about to prove exactly how wrong that word was.

Five hundred years ago, a healer loved a duke the world forbade her to keep — and paid for it with everything she had.

Now Eleanor Thorne keeps her eyes down and her gift hidden, the way her mother taught her. Charles Ashcombe has never believed in fate — until an accident on a London pavement binds them together in a way neither can explain: a pull older than memory, carried for centuries in a single sapphire necklace neither of them yet understands.

As an old debt comes due and old enemies rise again in new skin, Eleanor and Charles must choose what their ancestors never could — to be seen, to be chosen, and to be loved, in the open, whatever it costs.

A sweeping romance of witches, dukes, and the promise that some hearts find their way home — however long it takes.

Carrie has loved Franco since before the world knew his name. When the singer falls from the sixteenth floor of his own apartment building and the police call it suicide, she doesn't believe a word of it — and grief drags her somewhere impossible: back into her own sixteen-year-old body, in the one year of her life she never thought to look at twice.

Franco is here. Alive. Seventeen, gap-toothed, and a swim-team captain who has no idea his name will ever mean anything to anyone. Carrie has one mission: keep him breathing, whatever it costs her.

There's just one problem. She's wrong about how he dies.

Every time she tries to warn him outright, the world itself goes silent around her — freezing her mid-sentence, as if fate refuses to be told what to do. So she does the only thing left: she gets close to him. Closer than she should. Close enough to fall for the boy underneath the icon, close enough for him to start falling too — and close enough, eventually, to discover that the real threat was never the one she came back to stop.

A slow-burn, time-bent romance about the girl who followed a boy through four versions of the same year — and the boy who noticed her long before she ever came back to save him.

Everyone in this story is pretending to be someone they're not.

Allyssa Perez walks out of prison with eighty-three dollars, a bag of old clothes, and a phone she hasn't dared turn on in a year. The first message is from her brother, Daniel. He's been dead for eleven months.

If you're reading this, I'm already dead.

The email tells her two things: the fifteen million dollars he stole never surfaced — and neither will she, if the men looking for it find her first. They've already killed everyone else who might know where it went. One by one. Quietly.

Allyssa has one thing they don't: a way to vanish. To become someone else. It works. Until it doesn't.

The money was never the secret. The imposter is.