June 4th, 2026
Home | Log in!
Welcome to FreshFiction

Are you a reader
or an author?

Help us personalize your experience. Choose your role below.
You can always change this later using the switcher button.

or

You can switch anytime using the floating button.

Limited Time Fresh Fiction Access

Exclusive Marketing Opportunities for Authors

Curious about how Fresh Access helps authors gain more visibility and connect with active readers?

Discover premium promotional opportunities, enhanced exposure, and author-focused services designed to help your books stand out.

Read More →
On Top Shelf
★ Fresh Access for Authors 📚 New Books This Week 📰 Latest News 🎪 Reader Games πŸ–οΈ Summer Kick Off Giveaways

Love, Danger, Homecomings & Heart β€” Your June Reading Escape Starts Here

Slideshow image


Since your web browser does not support JavaScript, here is a non-JavaScript version of the image slideshow:

slideshow image
One disastrous night. One devastating man. One diabolical proposition.


slideshow image
He’s stubborn. She’s tougher. His kid? Already picked the bride.


slideshow image
A small-town second chance wrapped in danger, desire, and Sharon Sala heart.


slideshow image
She came home to save the ranch… and found the cowboy she never forgot.


slideshow image
From reality TV heartbreak to real-life reinvention.


slideshow image
A missing twin. A deadly cartel. One K-9 team caught in the crossfire.


THE WORLD AFTER RAIN
By: Canisia Lubrin

Anne's Poem

Catapult
February 2026
On Sale: February 3, 2026
256 pages
ISBN: 1593768192
EAN: 9781593768195
Kindle: B0FDFRWFDD
Trade Paperback / e-Book
Add to Wish List

Fiction Poetry

A Carol Shields Prize winner for her collection of fictions Code Noir, Canisia Lubrin now brings readers a long-form poetic tribute to her mother, praised by Dionne Brand as "incandescent"

In this stunning new poem, Canisia Lubrin’s signature epic vision is distilled into a elegy to her mother, along an interwoven and unresolvable axis of astonishment that belongs as much to history as to today. Her lucid attention to what might be the oldest metaphor for grief is drawn from the searing gravity and resonance of the modern poet’s decisive, interior, and inexpressible meditation on love, time, and loss in the excesses of life’s ambitions.

woman from fine-print time, disclose to the world:
the forecast of our noontime births outdoors; how I distrust
every form of authority, chiefly my own astonishment
this poisoned wish is why I love, I bow to deserts,
these claychildren of forests everywhere
I love the rain, this is no secret, I love the solar wind;
hold their elliptical life in the wasteland of our third mouths
where flowers are invisible and bones are sanded and amusing,
and every heliopause cloud senses our head, how we astonish
our memories vining where no shade is enough,
since many who’ll feed me will refuse me their names,
and good, who knows what bargains I would make
with their meanings . . .

© 2003-2026 off-the-edge.net  all rights reserved Privacy Policy