I had no idea what he was. I didn't even know if I could call him that. he still preferred "that", more correct. Why, neither you nor anyone else would consider a seemingly lifeless thing - And that has a taste for showing up at the end of your ballet class - normal. If all these facts are not enough, think if this same boy, ended his life in days? That's what happened.

"At dawn I walk with four. At noon I walk with two. At night I walk with three" So, do you know the answer to my next question? Who am I?

Petit Ange

The world has ended. There is no future left on the outside, nor humanity waiting to be rescued. What exists is a reality preserved by the will of a single person who keeps the memory of the world and everything that remains of humanity. The problem is that not everyone agrees that this existence should continue... Eine, a survivor of the catastrophe that destroyed human reality, dedicates her existence to ending the last traces of the people who were once at the center of these events. But, being unable to interfere directly in a dream that still continues, she must find hosts among the people who inhabit it. Her new attempt is Claire Williams. At nineteen, Claire has very ordinary concerns: university, the debts she took on to study, and the future she believes she is building. Now, however, she shares her own consciousness with a young man who knows a reality she cannot accept. As the boundaries between memory and existence begin to dissolve, those who walk between the two extremes will have to confront a question for which there may be no right answer: when the world has already ended, what does it mean to keep living?

Rafael CarnielliNuevo Autor

There is a kind of silence that weighs more than any war cry. It is the silence of the gap between the oaks across the frozen ground, the steam of a soup shared only with longing and the constant fear of waiting for someone who may never return. In Patavium, Aemilia became the lady of a home haunted by uncertainty. Torn between the relentless responsibility of governing the land and the intimate torment of not knowing her husband's fate, she refuses to succumb to despair. To protect the property and those who depend on it, Aemilia will have to find strength where only solitude remains, proving that dignity and love can be shields as sturdy as iron.

AnonimamenteNuevo Autor

Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again. Helena is in no hurry, nor is she afraid, and she does not let herself be swayed by pretty words. But every rose has its thorn. When two such different presences cross her path, she will discover that it is not possible to keep everything under control at all times. One calms, the other sets ablaze. One is shelter, the other is storm. For even the gentlest calm holds a flame, and within the storm itself there is already a harbinger of tranquility - each heart carries within itself both the flame and the breeze that can extinguish it. Be careful not to lose yourself. The labyrinth is yours, and only you will find the way out.

Lari Nunes

Some memories don't need a name to become impossible to forget. One night. Two strangers. No promises. Beatrice Cross never imagined she would run into the man who, for a few hours, made the world disappear. With no names or expectations, that night should have stayed in the past. Until she recognizes him. Ethan Harrington is everything she should avoid: arrogant, impeccable, and dangerously capable of awakening feelings she spent a year trying to forget. Now, however, there is an obstacle between them: Mark Sterling. The man Beatrice chose. The best friend Ethan never thought he would have to lie to. Between inevitable encounters, lingering glances, and a tension impossible to ignore, the attraction threatens to cross every boundary. Beatrice knows what she could lose. Ethan knows the weight of loyalty. And Mark trusts them both without imagining that the danger is closer than he could ever suspect. Because some choices don't just destroy relationships. They destroy everything you tried to protect. And sometimes, the cruelest lie is pretending nothing happened.