This week, Spock’s first field trip with his class ends in their capture. But help is on the way, from a cantankerous Starfleet admiral hitching a ride on the flagship and a friend who still checks his Google Alerts. Will Admiral McCoy become everything he used to hate? Has the typesetter gone on an unannounced vacation? And can that shuttlecraft settle on a dang name already? All this and more in Crossover, the book born under a blood-green sky.
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This week, a treaty renegotiation brings aboard an ambassador who dredges up memories of a somewhat lopsided rivalry for Dr. McCoy. But when Bones learns he’s a father again, he’ll have a dickens of a time remembering the right name to write on the birthday cards. Would McCoy make a good politician? Is this secretly a YA novel? And how long can we all keep pretending to care about Howard Weinstein’s résumé? All this and more in The Better Man, the book that hopes its fake ID is believable.
This week, Sarek has some primo dirt on the Romulans, but he needs help closing the deal. Meanwhile, when James Kirk’s nephew gets caught up in a movement to make Earth great again, he starts to wonder if real-world experience is more valuable than credit hours. Why are the Klingons spoiling for a fight so soon after Khitomer? Is this a bad time for Sarek to take a new gig? And can Kirk be cool with his nephew’s new girlfriend? All this and more in Sarek, the book that’s brought to you by Aunt Sylvia’s Kidnapper Chow!
This week, the Romulans decide to build their own Terok Nor—with blackjack, and hookers—but when they can’t stand the (lack of) heat, they find themselves forced out of the kitchen. When the Enterprise investigates the drifting station, they find themselves getting the same cold shoulder. Now they have to find the thing going bump in the night, and Scotty’s goofy ghost stories aren’t helping. Does Walter Koenig have dirt on the L.A. Graf ladies? What does a Romulan dildo look like? And whatever happened to sonic showers? All this and more in Shell Game, the book that will never know the joy of a Coney Island footlong.