Flavia Salvatore

In this peculiar life, I have always looked for answers. In the pretty books lining the worn-out shelves at school. In the long Sunday Masses of Bishop José. In the various healing herbs and all the rituals that I could see since a very young boy, when I still didn't speak the language of Monteiro Lobato in the little nose tales, which until today occupy a pleasant place in my memory. Or even in the curves of Uíre, daughter of the wisest and most affectionately crazy shaman in the whole world, which I began to notice in our last baths by the river out of the purest and most controversial curiosity. But in all these places I could never find a single convincing answer even about a little boy with big eyes, neither Indian nor white, neither Yanomani nor bourgeois, neither priest nor shaman.

mariatereza

Rita is twenty-five and hasn't been in love since she was sixteen. She had already given up on love, until a series of events started at a strange party turn her life upside down. She meets João, a passionate, heartbroken medical student and gives him a chance. But, soon after, she bumps into Sérgio, a more than interesting stranger, in the ticket line for the Chico Buarque show, which has everything to be unforgettable!

jonasexistiu

In the vast and indifferent fabric of space-time, where improbability is a constant and logic is rarely invited for tea, there exists the Department of Interdimensional Bureaucracy (DIB). Its purpose? To ensure that reality remains minimally functional or, at least, sufficiently confusing so that no one notices otherwise. But something went wrong. Horribly, catastrophically, fill-out-three-copies-of-reports wrong. Immanuel Breckford, a man whose greatest achievement until then was remembering where he left his keys, unexpectedly finds himself involved in one of the DIB's most catastrophic failures. Upon receiving a Temporary Ontological Adjustment Request Form 42/B, his existence is recalculated. To correct this cosmic blunder, the DIB sends Artemis Xyllan-7, Senior Auditor and specialist in metaphysical disasters. Armed with an expired stopwatch, a pen that alters probabilities, and the patience of a black hole, she has little time (and even less desire) to fix the problem before the universe decides to file Immanuel away permanently.

Liky Wolf

In Hawkins, things rarely disappear for good; they change shape, location, or name and keep circulating under the guise of normality. In the summer of 1985, the town is still awash in color, music, and activity, while small inconsistencies remain scattered among ordinary events, unfinished stories, and coincidences that seem to linger longer than they should. For someone who came here hoping to find nothing but distance, the place begins to take on a strangeness that is difficult to pin down, as if something were always slightly out of place, too close to ignore and too obscure to name.

Diana Pink BlueNew Author

Esta é uma história contada em 31 cartas, todas escritas na época natalina, sobre viajar num comboio muito especial, onde a magia acontece realmente. HISTÓRIA PARA ADOLESCENTES E GRAÚDOS

youkai22

Em um mundo governado há milênios por um mesmo Rei, um abismo impenetrável manifesta sua influência. Segundo aqueles que enxergam os versos de poder, dele emana a magia. Os fiéis, por sua vez, rogam a ele em ritos como a um Deus criador que a tudo conclama. Destemidos afirmam que dele verteram os dragões da vida. Sim: um desconhecido que habita e pulsa. O abismo é o centro do mundo, e há quem diga que ele seja o próprio mundo. Cabe aos nascidos do ímpeto trilhar o trajeto que desvela a trama. Não heróis apenas vítimas de um destino moldado no abismo da existência. Leonel acorda no meio de uma rua desconhecida. Ele está nu, vulnerável diante do solo que sustenta seu constrangimento. Não fosse o breu da noite e o vácuo de sua mente, sentir-se-ia ainda pior. Leonel não se lembra. O único fio de realidade que ainda o sustenta é o seu próprio nome. E, embora não saiba, o único ente que o reconhece é uma Sombra.