Crater Girl
Polly Schattel
Publication date: June 28th 2026
Genres: Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, LGBTQ+
Greta Tyler has issues. She’s broke, divorced, trans, recently defrocked from her Episcopal priesthood, and her underpaid assistant hates her. But hey, things could always be worse, right?
As a social worker in a small, northern Alabama city, Greta’s just trying to do a little good in the world, and also come to terms with a complicated new life, a demanding new career, and the crushing finality that her marriage to her childhood sweetheart is over for good. But when her friend Suhey fails to show for a party, Greta suspects the worst: Suhey’s either been deported or kidnapped. Thus begins an increasingly surreal odyssey through the inscrutable byways and backroads of contemporary rural America.
Tormented by self-doubt, and with a tendency to harm whatever she touches, Greta careens through a sinister underworld she never knew existed—billionaires and busboys, asteroids and assassins, human traffickers and misfit geniuses … and also an infernal plan to radically change the world.
But first, how to come up with the rent?
Crater Girl is Polly Schattel’s genre-jumping tale of gender politics, self-loathing, clandestine organizations, interstellar geology, thuggee death cults, and the search for personal redemption in the rusted over-sprawl of the meta-modern South.
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EXCERPT:
“The first time I ever heard of the concept of the dead eye was in reference to a man I knew was troubled before I’d even reached my teens. Rick M. Scharpley, who his seventh grade homeroom class called Mr. Scharpley to his face but Prick Him Sharply behind his back, was a substitute who’d been brought in to take over after our regular history teacher had broken her back in a car accident. He’d taught us through the rest of that year, a mousy, chubby man with sensible hair, sensible glasses, and a perfectly sensible face. No one knew whether he had a wife or kids, or a family back home, and he seemed normal enough to his students, even funny sometimes, until you’d spent an afternoon or so with him. Then you’d start to notice how his eyes had grown soft and buggy and darkly fascinated with you, and how the little ironic twist of his smile rarely faltered. He knew his history, and he could sometimes make stuff like antebellum Alabama halfway interesting, but the various disparate parts of him commingled oddly, which pushed him almost into full-on creepazoid territory, and you found yourself wanting “to spend as little time in his presence as possible but unable to say exactly why. In class it wasn’t too bad; his cigarette prestidigitation and his day-drinker legerdemain made a decent distraction for the after-school detention crew. But we thought even then, even as kids, that beneath his southern gentleman’s surface, there flowed an underground reservoir rich with self-loathing, a vast subterranean sea of near-bottomless black pain.
We knew this, the whole town knew this, because one sunny Sunday in that summer of 2006, Mr. Scharpley left a note magneted to the front of his refrigerator, a very personal kind of mini-manifesto within which he detailed all manners of abuses, self- and otherwise. Then he carried half a dozen syringes loaded with a potent pesticide called chlordecone into the local farmer’s market, and began injecting random crates of peaches with them. Eight people, most of them kids and old folks, had fallen into foamy-mouthed convulsions before he’d pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the frontage road.
Author Bio:
POLLY SCHATTEL lives in the mountains near Asheville, NC with her wife and three vicious and savage but very adorable animals.
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Crater Girl Blitz
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In the fractured lands of the Salvian Empire, the Great Houses rule through blood and fear. For years, Alandra Phoenyka has hunted powerful Sonomancers in the empire’s name, paid in empty promises that her stolen daughter would be returned. Each step forward demands another compromise. Another betrayal. Another piece of herself lost.
Born in Gdańsk, Poland, and raised in New York, he grew up on science fiction, fantasy, and the stories that linger long after the final page. After studying accounting and public policy, he left a conventional path to travel the world and create a documentary, turning storytelling into something essential.
When King James Kronenscheld dies at the hands of the Demon King, he thinks his suffering is finally over and he can join his Edwin in Paradise. And, hey, at least he’d taken the Demon King with him, right?
AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga. 
My existence was as cold as my birth. I was born with both knowledge and will—an inevitability for my kind. Drawn to the final moments of mortal life, we came into being. Some of us became Reapers, tasked solely with ferrying souls to their afterlife. Others craved the power of souls, calling themselves gods of Death—Shinigami. They believed that devouring or absorbing souls granted them greater might, but found that power only deepened their coldness and emptiness. Those gods of Death became husks, bored of their own immortality yet too frightened to end themselves. But being a Reaper can yield the same chill. Though I know the souls would be lost without our guidance, my own existence seems bound to a perpetual winter, drawn to the final beat of each mortal life.
