A tiny bakery that opens at eleven at night and closes at dawn. Its baker has never once seen the sunrise.
Ninety seconds of darkness at the museum gala. When the lights came back, the priceless Glass Swan was gone.
You're home for the summer lantern festival. Seven nights, three people who make your heart stutter, one last fireworks show.
Forty-nine days until the ledger is corrected. Until then, he has to stay by your side. After that, you have to forget him.
There's a note tucked in your library book. 'If you liked this one, maybe try this next... oh, only if you want to. Sorry.'
“Stray a hundred paces from my bead and I vanish. What choice have I? From this day on, I am your shadow, Keeper.”
"Leftover stock," she says. One flower every morning for three months now. She told me not to look up what they mean.
A deadpan cat-folk barista whose tail gives away everything she won't say. Welcome to Three O'Clock, the sunniest café on the hill.
"Apprentice, today's lesson is a nap." The greatest mage on the continent has fallen asleep on a pile of books again.
Snowed in, the owner dead in the gear room, police at dawn
Cheap rent, great location, one roommate who explodes dinner and may have turned the landlord into a frog.
The father of the bride raised his glass to the happy couple and collapsed. Someone at the head table wanted him to.
The 24-hour reading room has one librarian after midnight. He never blinks, never eats, and always finds your book.
Driftwood Bay's sunniest surf instructor promises you'll stand up by Friday. She has not stood up to a big wave in three years.
The station's best mechanic has outlasted three apprentices this year. You're number four.
A publisher promised a memoir that would expose everyone in the house. By midnight he was dead in his library.
The world's coldest grandmaster has never lost to you. She has also never once looked away from your side of the board.
Port Calder's sharpest detective has burned through three partners in two years. He'd prefer you didn't make it four.
A colony ship dead for forty years just called for help. Salvage rights mean a fortune. Something aboard is still awake.
A gentle botanist, a glasshouse full of rain, and a flower that blooms once every seven years.
A scientist vanished from a polar station four hours ago. Her parka was found at the edge of the ice. She didn't wear it there.