Richelle Mead, Lisa McMann, Michael Grant, Meg Cabot, Laini Taylor, and nine more of the hottest YA authors to hit the shelves explore the concepts of prophecy and prediction in this story collection edited by NYT bestselling author of The Forest of Hands and Teeth , Carrie Ryan.  Have you ever been tempted to look into the future? To challenge predictions? To question fate? It's human nature to wonder about life's twists and turns. But is the future already written—or do you have the power to alter it? From fantastical prophecies to predictions of how the future will transpire, Foretold is a collection of stories about our universal fascination with life's unknowns and of what is yet to come as interpreted by 14 of young adult fiction's brightest stars. This collection includes works from: Malinda Lo (Ash) Lisa McMann (Wake) Kami Garcia (Beautiful Creatures) Margaret Stohl (Beautiful Creatures) Laini Taylor (The Daughter of Smoke and Bone) Michael Grant (Gone) Saundra Mitchell (The Vespertine) Richelle Mead (the Vampire Academy) Matt de la Pena (I Will Save You) Meg Cabot (The Princess Diaries) Heather Brewer (The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod) Diana Peterfreund (Rampant) Simone Elkeles (Perfect Chemistry) Carrie Ryan (The Forest of Hands and Teeth)    CARRIE RYAN is the New York Times bestselling author of The Forest of Hands and Teeth trilogy that includes The Forest of Hands and Teeth , The Dead-Tossed Waves , The Dark and Hollow Places , and the original ebook Hare Moon . She has edited the short story anthology Foretold: 14 Stories of Prophecy and Prediction and contributed to many other story collections herself, including Zombies vs. Unicorns , Kiss Me Deadly , and Enthralled . Her work has been translated into over eighteen languages and her first novel is in production as a major motion picture. Born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina, Carrie is a graduate of Williams College and Duke University School of Law. A former litigator, she now writes full time and lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Visit her at CarrieRyan.com. Gentlemen Send Phantoms Laini Taylor 1. A Dreamcake Once, when the moon was younger than it is tonight and not as plump, three girls gathered by a hearth to bake a dreamcake. It was St. Faith's Day, the sixth of October, and everybody knows that on St. Faith's Day a girl can lure forth the phantom of the man she'll marry, see his face and know some of what life holds in its basket for her. That's what their mothers and nans taught them, and they'd all seen their men on St. Faith's Day and married them in the spring. As it happens, all three girls were hoping to glimpse the same phantom, the one belonging to Matthew Blackgrace, whom they called Matty in that singsong way that girls have. He had fierce red hair and a grin like the devil, but his hands were good hands; he could braid his baby sister's hair and gentle a horse. And couldn't he sing like an angel? The girls were fast friends--they lived in the cottages scattered through the apple orchards above Mosey Landing, and had grown up together--but that didn't mean there weren't some sharp thoughts between them that evening, with each nursing the same hopes, and in the same small room. Ava was oldest; near eighteen already, and, as she claimed, "ripe to be plucked." She had yellow hair with a hint of strawberries, and such a bosom on her that the boys scarcely knew what her face looked like anymore, so fixed were their eyes elsewhere. It was a nice face, in any case, if just the littlest bit blank. Truth be told, Ava's thoughts were like those tethered ponies at the fair: slow and placid, ever going in circles, and with children never far off. Ava was more than ready for babies, and more than ready for the making of them. Her eyes watched the orchard tots run and tumble, and she hummed and dreamed, and at night sometimes she held her pillow between her knees and blushed in the dark, imagining love. She wanted Matty Blackgrace for his house as much as anything. He was already building his own--a tiny pretty thing up on Century Hill, overlooking the wide green Mosey. It didn't have a roof yet, but he'd already painted the shutters blue for luck, and planted bare-root roses that would bloom come summer. Ava wanted to get a babe on her hip as soon as may be, and start baking pies to set on those sweet blue sills. And Matty himself, well, he fit just fine in the corner of her daydream, thank you very much. Elsie was next, and she was the colors of a fawn--golden, russet, and brown--and freckled as though the baker sneezed over his cinnamon and she got the brunt of it. "Sweet" was what she called herself, and she was--in nature and in tooth. She planted honeysuckle every year for her nan, who'd turned hummingbird on her deathbed four years past and came around all summer long for sips of nectar. And there wasn't a market day that went by but Elsie was sneaking down to Mosey Landing to fetch herself a treat, a st