Coming May 2026
Asteria
by Rachel Leigh
Conor hates life in Kansas, but she stays for one reason: to protect her sister from an unseen danger. That is, until the night her brooding classmate Jaime drags her into even greater peril.
Suddenly trapped in the mysterious realm of Asteria, Conor has no choice but to flee with him through dark forests and even darker tunnels. As they race to evade prowling fexes and sentinels, she learns of the mystical forces at play in every corner of this shattered world.
In the sea’s shadowy depths, Azra plunders ancient libraries in search of the lost magic that could save his doomed city. Atop floating towers, the imprisoned queen Skyye plots to escape before political intrigue brings everything crumbling down. Across the wintry meadows below, Evangeline fights to outwit an unlikely captor—all while plotting to retake her stolen throne and exact vengeance on her betrayers.
To survive, they each must confront the terror—and allure—of immortal powers beyond their reckoning. And whether by destiny or chance, one by one their paths converge with those of the “ordinary” teens who have stumbled into their dying realm.
Timeless myth collides with modernity in an epic fantasy that forces Conor to question everything she thought she knew about the world and her place in it. Ultimately, these unlikely heroes must decide what they truly value—and what they’re willing to sacrifice in the battle of their lives.
In the End: A Memoir about Faith and a Novel about Doubt
“May we all be so courageous in questioning our understanding of the world—and may we do so with such compassion for ourselves and others. Truly lovely.”
— Kate Cohen
Washington Post columnist and editor of We of Little Faith
Part memoir, part novel, In the End offers a kaleidoscopic portrait of God as seen through the eyes of a child.
Christianity was the author’s birthright: she is the daughter of a pastor, granddaughter of missionaries, and so on for generations. In her earliest memories, God feels like a member of the family, bearing a promise of eternal life in heaven. But as she ventures beyond the parsonage, the world complicates those simple beliefs.
The God of her understanding evolves from father figure to invisible friend to painfully unrequited love—and when she attempts to fortify her faith through study, doubts only multiply. The greatest doubt of all eventually consumes her young mind: one day we will die, and what then?
In an ambitious quest to understand both her own childhood and the nature of all existence, Karie Luidens employs a mind-bending blend of genres, with evocative prose slipping from fact to fiction in pursuit of truth. Her story wends from village life to the streets of Paris, reviving long-dead philosophers for urgent conversations along the way. Themes of gender, sexuality, embodiment, and naive white saviorism ripple beneath the surface throughout.
In the End combines the intellectual rigor of the philosophical novel Sophie’s World with the poignancy of the fictionalized memoir Blankets. Ultimately, by interrogating her Christian heritage and confronting the specter of mortality, Luidens realizes a vision that is entirely her own.
Like Glass
by Sylvia Wilde
She’s just another jaded urbanite, working herself to death by day and staring into a glass of vodka by night. It’s fine. Who needs home or family? Not Trey—not after her entire hometown shunned her as a sinner.
And sure, love is what drew everyone’s condemnation in the first place; love is what drove Trey to abandon her siblings with their angry father and leave her glaring church community in the dust. But that doesn’t mean she expects to find love now, right?
From the Midwest to Manhattan, the gleaming high-rise office to the seedy corner bar, Trey keeps her head down and keeps moving. She isn’t sure how far she’ll need to go to outrun her demons, or how many friendships she’ll make and then sabotage along the way. All she knows is she can’t slow down or look back, not when all it takes is a phone call to catch her off guard, the shards of her broken past slicing back into the present.
Like Glass is a cutting depiction of religious bigotry and the scars it leaves throughout one young queer woman’s life. And yet, along her journey, Trey’s voice is as sensitive as it is cynical, belying the grain of hope that she still holds in spite of it all.
“As she struggles to move beyond a fractured past, Trey isn't sure about people. Or love. This story unravels the secrets of her life, immersing a reader in the echoes of heartbreak and proving that while hope may falter, the human spirit finds a way—but it might not look like what we expect.”
— Sylvia