Now a digital pilot for SYFY The Society knows when we're going to die. They imprint it on our arms at birth. I was supposed to die yesterday. I'm the girl who's Expired. Winner of the 2020 Readers Choice Awards Cover by @Forcade

Reid has been homeless on the streets of New York for years now, fighting for cash in clubs and sleeping in empty buildings. With his special ability, Reid could have whatever life he wanted, but chooses not to. When Sam meets Reid on the subway, she has a hard time forgetting about him, and not only because he keeps showing up in the least likely of places. Sam doesn't know it at first, but the boy she just met is about to show her a whole other world.

New city, new job, and new neighbor's that steal socks. When Maxwell's socks start disappearing from her laundry line, she is at a loss as to why. Could it really be that they're falling off and down onto the courtyard below? Or could it possibly be the birds? The gardener thinks that it's her neighbor stealing them (for unknown reasons) but Maxwell isn't so sure. At first, she doesn't care... much, anyway. But there are only so many pairs of socks one can buy without drawing attention to the fact. And so, Maxwell Winter takes action!! ...by writing a note. And so begins the odd friendship between Maxwell and the sock thief. I'm not sure how often I'll update, but I think there'll be around 10 chapters. Feedback is always appreciated! :)

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.