Lillith Hunter

Paris Carson would be an ordinary teenager, with problems like so many others if it weren't for a 'small' detail, she has hyperthymesia. Yes, she doesn't forget anything. This is a real syndrome that makes her remember everything, faces, conversations, places, objects... in minute detail. And if that wasn't enough, Paris is moving to Carmel, California to live in New York now she has to face a new family (her mother remarried) and now she has brothers. If it weren't already 'convenient' problems with her memories. And then she meets a boy at school, charming, handsome and mysterious, Nick. And yet, her life is in jeopardy after a mysterious man shoots Nick in an alley, and the image is stored in Paris' mind. She is a witness to an assassination attempt: "Some people tell secrets, shut them up." And now? Will her gift be enough to save his own life?

Lillith Hunter

Just like on so many nights... Solitude was my best company. I preferred it that way... Living alone... The more I am surrounded by people, the worse I feel. Human beings are false creatures, devoid of any real affection. Well... You must be wondering who I am. I'm the light. I am the rose. I am darkness. I'm a vampire. My mortal life has passed so quickly that now when I remember her. It seems I'm not talking about myself... And yes of another being. Another silly human. But it was me. Maybe not as alive as I am now,

Benedict Valentine is the greatest mind of the 19th century. The 13-year-old boy genius gifted with mecha-magical eyes seeks revenge after being kidnapped and having his right eye stolen by a gang. Ben sets off in search of revenge and, with luck, to recover his right eye, the very eye that was given to him as a gift by King Dragomir when he was still a frail, blind baby.

eliomoon

Founded in 1389, among the mountains that divide France and Switzerland, Saint Orpheus is an institution surrounded by centuries of forbidden knowledge, forgotten traditions, and stories that few dare to mention. Behind its ancient walls, the past is never truly dead (and some truths should remain buried). At twenty-one years old, Lucien is about to discover that his entire life has been built on a lie. Heir to a lineage long erased from history, he carries within himself something that predates even the ancient celestial orders: the Original Darkness. But Saint Orpheus is not the only place interested in his destiny. Aurelian and Samael are two presences impossible to ignore. Fallen angels, united by an ancient oath and by secrets they refuse to share, both seem to know far more about Lucien than they should. One awakens his curiosity; the other, his distrust. As the boundaries between the Firmament, the Veil, and the Abyss begin to become less secure, Lucien will need to discover who he truly is and why his existence seems to threaten an order that has survived for centuries.

ANNA VESPERNouvel Auteur

Clara dá aulas de português para estrangeiros e faz magia desde pequena. Joana só sabe da primeira parte. Até aparecer para um café dizendo que visitou a escola onde a amiga trabalha, numa cidade que não aparece no mapa. A primeira pista está num material didático: alguém está ensinando pessoas comuns a encontrar lugares mágicos sem explicar o que vão descobrir. Os percursos levam a uma biblioteca fechada, documentos alterados e moradores que não querem ver suas casas transformadas em cenário de exercício. Com a confiança da amiga abalada, Clara precisa descobrir quem está distribuindo aquelas instruções e por quê. E explicar há quanto tempo vinha deixando Joana do lado de fora.

worrel

A photography student opens a metal box forgotten at the back of his grandfather's closet. Inside: old negatives, notebooks his grandfather never let anyone read, a sheet music dedicated to someone no one in the family knows, and a little red beanie that, after thirteen years stored away, is still warm. The grandfather can no longer travel. The answers stayed in the North, in a village that may not even exist anymore. So the grandson goes in his place, in the middle of the Círio de Nazaré, with a camera, a best friend who refuses to stay home, and the feeling that some photos hold more than they show. Twelve photos. Eleven empty places. And what was left out of the frame.