Hugh J. O'Donnell

Gemma woke up to find herself both shrunken down, and trapped inside the grasshopper tank. She reached two conclusions that she had no way of testing.
One, her shrinking formula was a success, and two, somebody wanted her out of the way. She didn’t know which of her lab assistants had done it, but she guessed Dan. He seemed the most ambitious, and the least scrupulous of the crew.
He’d probably meant for the grasshoppers to devour her, but she was a scientist, and quickly made two breakthroughs: The insects were surprisingly easy to domesticate, and made for good eating.

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“Are you sure you can handle everything while I’m gone?” The cherub asked.
“Please, I am a seraph,” the taller angel said.
“But it’s the busy season…”
“Go, Have a good trip.”
Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, the cherub put on his coat and hat and fluttered out of the office.
The six-winged woman examined the tools on the cherub’s desk. The bow and heart-shaped arrows looked like they would break in her hands. Instead, she took her flaming spear from the rack by the door.
She was really going to show the world some love.

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“This was your father’s Plasma Sword. He wanted you to become a Space Cavalier, like he was. But your Uncle thought it was too dangerous.” The old man gave the boy the weapon, and with a push of a button, the blade was sheathed in crackling energy. He swung the it a few times, experimentally.
“Well, lets get started,” the old man said, readying his own weapon. “We’ll start with some light sparring.”
“What, with live blades?”
“Of course. That is the way of our order.”
“How did my father really die?” The boy asked.
“Training accident,” the hermit said.

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During the off-season, the rangers snowmobiled out to the hot springs on the edge of the park. The sulfurous waters were over two hundred degrees, so they stood on the empty viewing platform and enjoyed the warm air rising from the water.
Daryl tossed a pine cone and watched the superheated, acidic water disintegrate it.
“They’re cutting our budget again,” his boss said, staring down at the water, not making eye contact. “I’m sorry. When we get back, I’ll do the former paperwork.”
Daryl looked at the icy slope leading down to the scalding water, and made a decision.

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The thief watched the palace carefully from his perch on the rooftop. He’d been there for days, memorizing the changes of the guard, who went in, and who came out.
The Emperor’s wealth was legendary, and when he wasn’t planning, the rogue daydreamed of the fantastic riches he would find locked away inside.
Inside the palace, the third prince looked out at the city from his balcony, a world he’d always been denied. He was everything a younger son was supposed to be, intelligent, strong, handsome and witty, but he felt trapped.
It was their chance meeting that changed everything.

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