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Meta-human Red Savior has a plan to defeat ECHO once and for all: risk everything to find the Thulian Headquarters in a dangerous gambit that will either end with the world in flames—or victory!

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The means streets of Undercity, the enormous capital of a vast star empire. Here Private Investigator Major Bhaajan must sift through the shadows to find answers to an incredible secret that may change the future forever.

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When an informant shows up dead on his doorstep, Jason Wood of Wood’s Information Service is plunged into a world far stranger than he ever imagine, in this vastly expanded version of Spoor’s Digital Knight, sure to please fans and newcomers alike.

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Planet Earth is in peril in two classic novels of great SF from best-selling author James P. Hogan. Includes Cradle of Saturn and The Legend that Was Earth.

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With human civilization annihilated by a biological zombie plague, a rag-tag fleet of yachts and freighters known as Wolf Squadron must take on another massive challenge: clear the assault carrier USS Iwo Jima of infected and began to take the world back from the infected. Sequel to Under a Graveyard Sky.

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In a universe full of interstellar intrigue and burgeoning commerce, novice Terran trader Jethri Gobelyn is determined to make a name for himself as trader and adventurer. But he has plenty of enemies who are just as determined to put him in his place!

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Two journeys into space: one taking humans to space by hook or by crook, the other the classic first-time tale of a generation vessel with passengers who do not realize they are in a spaceship. All-new afterword by Mark Van Name.

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ar is coming to the Cutter Stream colonies. A war that the colonists must win. Allen Allenson has known war, and has hated it. But it is this very experience that makes him the only man fit to lead the colonial army. Faced with the choice to roll over or fight, Allenson takes up the general's mantle.

Because the one thing Allenson won’t do is quit.

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It is in the battles of epic fantasy and sword and sorcery where heroism comes alive, magic is unleashed, and legends are made and unmade. Here are stories on the military side of high fantasy, featuring beautifully crafted worlds filled with magic and mayhem.

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Set adrift among the stars, a small band of survivors beats the odds and finds a habitable planet on which to build a new life. But this strange new world holds many secrets—some of which may prove deadly.

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With war between Cobra factions brewing, Cobra Jason Broom poses as a slave on an alien prison planet. He seeks information—information that may save the Cobra worlds, and head off a massive interstellar war.

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December Contest

“The Night before Christmas” is one of the most enduring signs of the holiday season. Beloved by generations, the poem about jolly St. Nick and his eight tiny reindeer is a classic. No doubt it will be read well into the future. Which got us to thinking... How would the poem sound with a science fiction or fantasy twist? Give us your take for a chance to win big: $250 dollars’ worth of Baen books!

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The Honorverse is getting even bigger! Check out the new additions to the worlds of David Weber here.

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Cover artist Alan Pollack chats with Baen about creating eye-catching book covers, how he came to be a professional artist, and why Larry Correia’s books are so much fun to illustrate.

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Check out the Baen Teacher's Guide to Beyond This Horizon, the latest in our popular series of teacher’s guides for Baen books that might be appropriate for high school or college classroom reading. These includes synopses, discussion questions, quizzes, and more. Our latest reader’s group guide is 1636: The Devil’s Opera Reader's Group Guide, useful for your book club, online reading group, and to enhance your own enjoyment of the book.

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Baen Teacher and Student Guide Catalog


For Moss, home is his father’s pack slung across his back and an empty stretch of highway. Kicked out of the house at sixteen, he’s hitching cross country to the Atlantic Ocean to keep a promise he made a long time ago. But when he arrives in the seaside town of Archers Beach, Maine, he finds not only a job and a surrogate family, but much more than he ever imagined in this all-new story set in the world of Sharon Lee's upcoming Carousel Seas.


The night don’t seem so lonely

by Sharon Lee

"And that was 'Yellow Submarine' by the Fab Four, also known as—THE BEATLES!" The DJ's voice evaporated into a cloud of static, and came back, a little watery now:

". . .listening to WKOX-FM, one-oh-five-point-seven, Framingham, Mass. All rock, all the --"

More static, fizzing loud—.

"Jesus Christ!" Ben swore. "Find another station, willya, Mossie?"

Moss leaned forward, fiddling with the dial, picking up a lot of static, and a thin line of what might've been "Crystal Blue Persuasion," though it was hard to tell in the rush of road noise coming in the open windows.

He upped the volume just in time for the thread of song to dissolve into a loud honk of noise.

"Christ!" Ben swore again, his hand flashing out.

Moss ducked—not that Ben had hit him, yet—and the music clicked off.

"Goddamn dead zone," Ben said. "You wait'll we get to Portland. Got a stereo set up, all the records you can listen to: Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Doors—all the good stuff. You'll like it just fine."

Moss had heard this before—Ben had picked him up a couple miles south of the Mass Pike, so they'd been together almost a day. The story was that Ben shared a house in Portland, Maine, on India Street. The plan—Ben's plan—was for Moss to come home with him, and "help out" for crash space and food.

It was a nice plan, Moss thought—for Ben. He didn't particularly have anything against Ben, mind. The man'd been more than fair with him: fed him a couple burgers, with fries, made sure he had a new, cold Coke every time they stopped for gas, offered to share his cigarettes and his reefers, too; and had only wanted one blow-job, which he'd asked for, nice and polite. His momma would've liked Ben.

Well, and Momma never did have no sense in men; which was the reason Moss was sixteen, and hitchin', and givin' blow-jobs to such folk as might pick him up. Momma'd taught him it was wrong to be beholden, so he made sure him and his rides were caught up even by the time he left 'em.

. . .though that was lookin' like it might be a problem, with Ben, here. Moss had no intention of letting himself be took into a strange house in a strange city and set to work givin' blow-jobs—or worse—to them he owed nothing to—or maybe Ben had the idea he'd like to deliver reefers, which he wouldn't much care for, neither.

Trouble was, they were getting close to Portland—he'd seen a sign 'bout ten miles back that said 38 miles, which meant he was going to have to give Ben the slip at the next gas stop.


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When Justis Fearsson’s job as a private investigator leads to a job tracking down the person or persons responsible for stealing cars off of Mitch Sullivan’s lot, he thinks it’ll be fast and easy money. Just the thing he needs right now. Because Christmas is coming up, but what’s more, so is the full moon. And Fearsson isn’t just an ordinary gumshoe—he’s a weremyste, and that means the full moon brings trouble in the form of a night of insanity. But the job turns out to be trickier than he thought. Now he’s in a race against time and hopelessly outnumbered by a gang of car thieves with a very dark secret.

All new fiction from award winning author David B. Coe, and set in the world of upcoming
Spell Blind.


“Long Nights Moon”

by David B. Coe

December’s full moon is known among some of the tribal peoples of North America as the Cold Moon, or the Long Nights Moon. Living in Chandler, Arizona, a suburb in the desert sprawl of Phoenix, I can’t say that “Cold Moon” has ever had much meaning for me. But as a weremyste I know all about full moons and long nights.

For three nights out of every moon cycle, the night of the full, and the nights immediately before and after, weremystes go through what’s known as the phasing. That probably sounds innocuous enough. Trust me, it’s not. Our magic strengthens, but our minds weaken to the point of temporary insanity. At the very moment when we most need to have control over our thoughts and our runecrafting, we have none. The barriers between reality and delusion melt away. Some of us retreat into our minds, enduring the dark hours in quiet desperation. Others turn violent, lashing out at those we love, or turning our fear and rage inward so that we harm ourselves. I’ve experienced both: resigned withdrawal into my own addled mind and violent eruptions that nearly ended with me putting a bullet through my head. I couldn’t tell you which is worse. They both pretty much suck.

Not surprisingly, these descents into madness eventually cause our minds to deteriorate. One doesn’t meet many sane old weremystes. They don’t exist. My father, who’s also a weremyste, and who, like me, lost his job on the Phoenix police force because of the phasings, is in his sixties, and he’s nuts, just as I will be.

There isn’t much that could make the phasings worse than they already are, but this year’s calendar was doing its best. The next full moon, only two days away, fell on Christmas, which meant that the phasing would begin on Christmas Eve. Joy to the world.

Forty-eight hours shy of the full, and several hours before even today’s moonrise, I could already feel the moon tugging at my thoughts, like idle fingers pulling at a loose thread. Sooner or later, it was all going to unravel.

Right now, though, I was in the Z-ster, my 1977 silver 280Z, following the Piestewa Freeway through the city, on my way to meet with a new client. Mitchell Sullivan owned a car dealership over on East Camelback Road, the heart of Phoenix’s automobile trade. Sullivan hadn’t told me much over the phone, but I gathered he was having trouble with one of his employees.

I’m a private detective -- owner, president, and principal investigator for Justis Fearsson Investigations -- and since I used to be a cop, many of the clients who come my way are business owners trying to manage problems that straddle the boundaries of the law. They avoid going to the police because they don’t want the negative publicity, but they also know that they’re out of their depth. More often than not, I’m a compromise who can make the issue go away quietly and discreetly. Or so they think. Sometimes it seems like I can’t do anything without drawing the attention of the police, the press, and the entire magical community of the Phoenix metropolitan area. But I try not to mention that to potential clients.


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If you’ve marveled at the maps in some of our books, chances are you’ve seen the work of Randy Asplund. But Randy isn’t just a mapmaker extraordinaire; he’s also a gifted artist and an expert on Medieval bookmaking. In this month’s nonfiction, he walks us through his growing passion for discovering lost bookmaking processes and his growth as a “Medieval Artist in the 21st Century.



A Medieval Artist In The 21st Century

by Randy Asplund

Why on earth would any single person go to all of the trouble to learn to make medieval books entirely by hand? It may seem crazy at first, but there's a logic to it. I actually came upon it because events in my life naturally led me in this direction. I had always loved fantasy and mythology while growing up. During my early days at the University, I decided what I wanted most was to become a Fantasy and Science Fiction illustrator. Along the way, my interests in history led to me joining the SCA, a medieval reenactment society. All of this was mutually sympathetic.

My career started really taking off in 1993, when I started doing early Magic: The Gathering card game art, and my first Star Trek cover art commissions. For a while I was so busy that it was overwhelming. Along side of this I had been learning to make medieval art as a hobby. Gradually, I started phasing that into my professional commission work. Then, as it often does, the world changed. Technology overturned the SF & F illustration industry when the computer made it easy for anybody to crank out pictures, or cobble together low quality images from photos. My clients started buying cheaper digital art and cut the prices they were willing to pay so low that it wasn't worth the time to do the work. And then to add insult to injury, they now demanded All Rights contracts for the work rather than just First Use rights! It was an economic disaster for illustrators in the genre.

It felt to me like I was experiencing my own version of the Fall of Rome, and it was not just happening to me, but also to many of my friends. I was faced with either changing my art into something that I hated, or suffering through lean years as I competed with a plethora of really awesome artists who were now struggling for work. Fortunately, there was a choice number three.

Choice number three was to follow a passion I had been developing over the years, that of medieval manuscript calligraphy and illumination. I had gotten good at it, and the clients I was finding really appreciated me. As the church in Europe had held out against the Fall of Rome, I would also turn to the manuscript as a tool for my salvation. I stopped bothering to send portfolios to publishers. I dropped every one of my regular SF & F clients except for Baen Books. I like the people at Baen, and they have always treated me well. But work from one company would not provide enough for me to make a living, so I pushed on with the manuscript work.

I was getting a lot of great feedback. People were saying “Randy, you should write a book on this!” I would reply, “Yeah, I should. I will, someday...” But I wasn't ready. The subject was very broad and deep, and I had no idea how to drink in that much knowledge. Then one day, a woman saw me at a book festival and loved my artwork. She asked if I could make a medieval book for her.

A whole book? I'd only made the most rudimentary attempts in the past; mere casual endeavors. Yet, I had been teaching myself enough about it to feel that it could be done. I live in a good place for it. We have a lot of book arts support here, and we even have a thriving book arts supply store here in Ann Arbor! The improbability of such fortune did not escape me, but I had everything I needed, so I accepted the commission. In the end, I produced my first complete book made entirely from medieval materials and using medieval methods.

With this success, I realized that I was now at a point where I could consider really writing my book. I had already been putting bits and pieces of the idea for a book together, but I now knew that the book couldn't be just about manuscript calligraphy and illumination. It had to be the whole A-Z process of making the book. I already knew that it would need to include sections about making the materials, and now it would have to include everything all the way through binding it. Somehow I had gone from just writing a medieval version of a book any watercolorist/calligrapher could write, to writing one so involved that few people in the world would have the practical hands-on knowledge and experience to pull it off.


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