As my date—Harvey? Harvard?—brags about his alma mater and Manhattan penthouse, I take a bite of overpriced kale and watch his ugly thoughts swirl overhead. It’s hard to pay attention to him with my stomach growling and my body ajitter, for all he’s easy on the eyes. Harvey doesn’t look much older than I am, but his thoughts, covered in spines and centipede feet, glisten with ancient grudges and carry an entitled, Ivy League stink.

“My apartment has the most amazing view of the city,” he’s saying, his thoughts sliding long over each other like dark, bristling snakes. Each one is as thick around as his Rolex-draped wrist. “I just installed a Jacuzzi along the west wall so that I can watch the sun set while I relax after getting back from the gym.”

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First published in Nightmare Magazine #37, Queers Destroy Horror!, 2015.

Winner of the Nebula Award and World Fantasy Award.

Finalist for the Hugo Award and Bram Stoker Award.

My mother was a fish. That’s why I can swim so well, according to my father, who is a plain fisherman with a fisherman’s plain logic, but uncanny flair for the dramatic. And while it’s true I can cut through the water like a minnow, or a hand dipped over the edge of a speedboat, I personally think it’s because no one can grow up along the Mekong without learning two things: how to swim, and how to avoid the mermaids.

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First published in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, 2014.

Finalist for the Nebula Award, World Fantasy Award, and Shirley Jackson Award.

When she got to Yume’s room, the first thing Ruriko did was slip off her mask and remove her prosthetic jaw. There was an ache in her fake bottom teeth. It was going to rain, although one look at the sky could have told her that.

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First published in Robots vs. Fairies, Saga Press, 2018.

Olivia blew into town with the storm and headed straight for The Grand Silver Hotel. Pots and containers of sauces and marinade clattered in the trunk of her Toyota, packed in with the rest of the groceries she’d brought from Phoenix. The evening sky hung heavy with dark clouds, but the shrinking Arizona sun still burned her arms through the car windows.

Bisden was one of those mining towns that had sprung up in the 1800s, flourished for a while, and then all but died once the silver ran out. Now, the town made its money from the tourists who trickled in, hoping to see two things: a real Wild West ghost town, and one of the most haunted historical sites in the southwest. 

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First published in A Thousand Beginnings and Endings, Greenwillow Books, 2018.

The day my sister ended the world, the sky opened up in rain for the first time in years, flooding the desert wash behind our house.

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First published on Tor.com, 2016.

Finalist for the Hugo Award and Nebula Award.

When the desert finally lets you go, naked and stumbling, your body humming with raw power and the song of dead things coiled under your tongue, you find Marisol waiting for you at the edge of the bluffs.

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First published in Uncanny Magazine, Issue 10, 2016.

Winner of the Locus Award.

Finalist for the Hugo Award and Nebula Award.

When the Xiongs’ only son died, instead of calling the crematorium and arranging for a funeral, the family came to me.

Pneumonia, they told me. Never mind the blunt-force trauma to his face and head, the ugly concavities causing dips in the white sheet wrapped around his body. It was late-onset pneumonia. Tragic.

“Tragic,” I agreed, slipping the smooth envelope they had laid on the table into my pocket. “I’ll need you to sign this waiver.”

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First published in Fireside Magazine, 2016.

The sky above Nag’s Head is stained an uneasy shade of gray by the time we pull up to my parents’ North Carolina beach house. Beyond the dunes and waving field of sea grass, the water is sharp and choppy, the color of slate.

“Shit,” says Gina, climbing out of the Range Rover. She shades her eyes, her long, lavender-dyed hair flapping across her face. The wind slaps us both with the salty, thick smell of the ocean. “You brought the keys, right?”

Her eyeliner is perfect, as usual. I can’t believe she drew it on in the passenger seat while I was doing 90 on the I-40, eager to put as much distance between us and Duke University as possible.

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First published in The Devil and the Deep: Horror Stories of the Sea, Nightshade Books, 2018.

As I shrug on my jacket, moving across the carpet as quietly as I can, my sister Xuemei pushes her blankets aside and rolls over onto her belly with a soft murmur. “Liin jie. Where are you going?”

Fuck. I glance at her across our shared bedroom, her pale skin glimmering in the near darkness. My shoes are already on; no use lying about it now. “Go back to sleep, kiddo.”

“Are you going to see a surgeon?” My throat tightens and she leans forward. “Again? Ba’s gonna be angry when he finds out.”

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First published in Lightspeed Magazine, 2016.

I stuck close to the wall and let my corneal camera watch the action for me. All around, beautifully-attired crime lords bared their teeth at each other over expensive cocktails. Posturing aside, no one would dare start a feud at the Elder Brothers’ new Boss’ debut party, even if it was being held at the tackiest Chinese restaurant in town.

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First published in Cyber World: Tales of Humanity's Tomorrow, Hex Publishers, 2016.

On the morning of his funeral, you wake screaming from nightmares of Jonathan Chin, your mouth crammed full of feathers. A craving for sky sKY SKY electrifies you from pounding heart to fingertips. Your hands are empty and twisted like claws, the body of a ghost boy slipping from your grasp.

You see him as clearly as if he’d been cut from your mind and pasted on the walls in front of you. Jonathan Chin is a fixture in your room, etched into every shadow. Jonathan Chin is in your mouth, your belly.

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First published in Black Static, 2014.

The dead god descends on me as I sleep, the way it did my mother the night before my conception, and my grandmother before that. Even with my dream-eyes shut, I know it's there; the weight of folded limbs on my body threatens to crush my ribs, and I can smell the wreaths of sweet sampaguita hanging from its neck.

"Go away, po," I tell it, adding the honorific since Nanay always taught me not to be rude to gods. "I'm having a good dream for once." 

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First published in Strange Horizons, in two parts, 2014.

This epic collection of short stories written by some of our favorite High Republic authors is sure to make the perfect addition to any Star Wars fan’s bookshelf, offering readers even more never-before-seen insight into the beloved Star Wars universe.

Thrilling short stories featuring fan favorite characters from the beloved High Republic series each written by a New York Times bestselling author.

Rejoin the adventures of the Jedi and Padawans, Pathfinders and Path members, and heroes and villains in these unmissable short stories that bridge storylines, resolve mysteries, and offer tantalizing hints of what is to come.

“Chronicles of Corellia: Heir Apparent" is a short story set during the High Republic Era by Alyssa Wong, which was published in Star Wars Insider 227.

“Chronicles of Corellia: Cracking the Mask" is a short story by Alyssa Wong set during the High Republic Era, published as part of The High Republic: Chronicles of Corellia in Star Wars Insider 228.