Avril and I walked away from the accident without a scratch. Now, we're getting married in a quaint and cozy town on the edge of the sea. Here I can finally get my life back. But... I find myself living an existence that can't possibly be mine. I find myself in love, domestic...restless. I have all that I could ever want, except the one thing I need: my crew. It means I'm defenseless. The doctors assure me this is for the best. They tell me my crew was a disease. I don't believe them. Little things add up, my discontent grows. One clue leads to another and I get the idea that things aren't...

Jen had no idea of the other worlds of New Sulan where she would come face to face with blood thirsty Amazons, beasts that call themselves doctors and a line of celebrity dominatrices designed to pacify the populace. And Bea wasn't explaining their options too well, either. Thus begins Prizm: Dominatrix of Sulan, not only a girl's journey to distant worlds and the uncovering of a secret plot to enslave the universe, but also a girl's journey into womanhood and the responsibilities and liabilities that come with knowing the truth.

I am Thomas Hunter, a paranormal investigator and part-time ghost charmer. I walk a thin line where the shadows of perception reshape the definition of reality. I used to be a cop, I used to have a wife. Then I died. When I woke up, I had three entities in my head, a bad case of amnesia, and an insider's view of the occult. I named myself Hunter because it expresses what I do. Lately, two corpses have shown up in the San Francisco morgue. They have something unique about them: they don't decompose. The Vatican claimed them as holy relics, but alive these stiffs were no more Catholic than...

My cases aren't like normal cases. I find the secrets the occult world is likely to kill you for. Quit half way and you step into oblivion, misjudge and you might lose your mind. Paranoia is an occupational hazard. They say all roads lead to Rome and, in this case, so do all my clues. Nestled deep within the Vatican clergy-guarded by something with more tricks than Harry Houdini and possessing the moral conscience of a snake-are the answers I've been looking for, so long as I am willing to trade my soul. It's one thing to know when the antichrist has come, it's a whole other kind of crazy...