I grew up reading SF in the 70s and 80s, and I like fast, thought-provoking plots that take you places in fully realized worlds.

Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her.

Wayde yelled, and I hit him again, adrenaline pulling a scream of outrage from me. He went quiet, and I held my breath to make sure I could hear him breathing. I suppose I could have used my magic on him, but this was a lot more satisfying.

Looking at everything, I started to feel nauseous, as if the seventies had taken refuge here against extinction and were preparing to take over the world.

Keep your vampire mitts off me. I'm not your friggin' blood toy.

Actually,” I said, hesitant to bring it up, “I was thinking along the lines of a curse that can turn you human.” “Or witch?” Ivy said, surprising me. There was a soft vulnerability in her and I blinked. “You don’t want to be a witch,” I said quickly. “Why not? You are.

I suddenly realized that a bunch of my friends needed babysitters and vowed to start screening my calls.