America

Ryland Grace is the sole survivor on a desperate, last-chance mission - and if he fails, humanity and the Earth itself will perish. Except that right now, he doesn't know that. He can't even remember his own name, let alone the nature of his assignment or how to complete it. All he knows is that he's been asleep for a very, very long time. And he's just been awakened to find himself millions of miles from home, with nothing but two corpses for company.

John Perry did two things on his 75th birthday. First he visited his wife's grave. Then he joined the army. The good news is that humanity finally made it into interstellar space. The bad news is that planets fit to live on are scarce—and alien races willing to fight us for them are common. So: we fight. To defend Earth, and to stake our own claim to planetary real estate. Far from Earth, the war has been going on for decades: brutal, bloody, unyielding. Earth itself is a backwater.

After narrowly surviving my debut into the magical world, I made a promise to myself: no more hiding in broom closets. But with the Mages' Guild reorganizing faster than anyone thought possible, and naming me as their number one target, that promise seems a little far-fetched. Especially since my training with Callie and Dizzy, the highly experienced dual-mage pair, goes off like a cake in a cannon. Left to find someone that can fill the role, it isn't until a formal dinner party goes horribly wrong that I find the best (and worst) solution imaginable: Reagan Somerset, the leather-clad crazy woman who busted into my broom closet sanctuary in the first place.

A social experiment (a scary but exciting concept): marry a total stranger, live together for six months, and journal everything. Feelings. Fights. All of it. After six months, we each get $50,000 in exchange for our journals, whether we stay married or not. But the goal is to commit to the experience and see if the relationship experts could put together the perfect matches. I have never been lucky in love. This was my chance to find my soulmate. I couldn't wait to meet the man the experts felt was perfect for me.

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?