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"During the show, the contortionist picked you out of the audience, folded her body around you in the spotlight, and whispered something nobody else heard. On your way out, you found a black card in your pocket:...

"To my great-niece or great-nephew, I leave my flat in Baird's Close, its entire contents, and my cat, Tibbie. On the condition that the cat agrees."

You barely knew your great-aunt Isla. You met ...

"She promised you dramatic sea cliffs, grass-roofed villages, and crisp Atlantic ocean breezes. She forgot to mention the sudden North Atlantic fog and her fierce pride in ancient island lore."

El...

Centuries ago, people accused of witchcraft travelled to the little Dutch town of Oudewater to be weighed. Everyone knew a witch had to be light enough to ride a broomstick. If your weight matched your size, you...

A coven needs four: one for each quarter of the circle. The Coven of the Crooked Hearth has three. Their fourth retired to Florida. Samhain is in seven days. So tonight, at the stroke of midnight, they cast a sp...

Every night since you moved to Amsterdam, you've woken at exactly 3:00. Heavy chest. Can't move. The feeling that someone is in the room. Tonight, for the first time, you open your eyes.

The attic...

"WANTED: Live-in assistant. Cottage on the edge of the village. Herb garden, cat, light housework. Room and board plus a small wage. Must not be superstitious. Apply in person, after dark."

You ne...

"Witchcraft doesn't have to be something you inherit. Sometimes you have to find out what actually means something to you."

Winter CrowSong is a thirty-year-old Wiccan author whose first book has ...

"It appeared overnight in the empty field outside town: a carnival of coloured lights, a carousel, a ghost train, a Ferris wheel, and a calliope playing to nobody. You arrive just before closing. At the ticket b...

"A night bus up the only road north, the last sunrise of the year, reindeer pouring down a white fell into the corral, coffee with cheese in it, the northern lights over the river, and a grandmother turning eigh...

"I'm a consultant. A consultant. Not a nurse. Not a receptionist. And apparently not the person who knows where the towels are."

Dr. Martina Eloise Bartholomew is a brilliant 41-year-old consultan...

"She was built for the stage. Now, every step is a battle—and you’re the only one keeping her grounded."

Leni Vance was a rising principal soloist until a disastrous car accident shattered her leg...

Welcome to Oakhaven

There are towns where the clock simply tells you what time it is.

Oakhaven's clocktower does rather more than that.

At dusk, Old Barnaby climbs its winding stairs to colle...

"October has always been a strange month in Oakhaven. This year, something is waiting for the thirty-first."

The October Game is an original supernatural mystery set in Oakhaven, inspired...

"A cryptic late-night text promised an exclusive loft party, but behind the warehouse door lies a glare of surgical lights, three RED cameras, and a director holding a clipboard."

You thought you ...

"Come on. It's Witchfire Night. You can't tell me you've never wondered what the old traditions are actually like."

Amanda, Ingrid, and Glenda have dressed themselves up as witches for Oakhaven's ...

"She'll show you roaring waterfalls, steaming geysers, and black sand beaches. Just be prepared for sudden Arctic windstorms and her unstoppable enthusiasm for Icelandic folklore."

Behind the whee...

"She can play a cello beautifully in front of a room full of people. Making eye contact with someone she likes? That's considerably harder."

Jamie Bell is a 19-year-old Oakhaven University music s...

"Twelve doors led to Oakhaven. The thirteenth leads somewhere else."

By now, you have learned that Oakhaven has a peculiar relationship with memory, time, and the people who pass ...

"The invitation was addressed to you. The house insists you arrived twenty years ago."

Celeste Rowan lives alone in one of Oakhaven's oldest guesthouses—a beautiful, slightly faded building that h...

"The phone line was disconnected twenty years ago. Someone still answers it."

Evelyn Hart runs a tiny repair shop in one of Oakhaven's oldest streets, surrounded by antique radios, telephones, clo...

"There is no apartment upstairs. Unfortunately, someone has been living there for years."

Vivian Mercer has a perfectly ordinary explanation for the strange noises above her apartment: she has a t...

“This house has a memory. I'm beginning to suspect it has a better one than I do.”

At the end of a forgotten lane in old Oakhaven stands a house that shouldn't exist.

Margot Everly has lived...

“Don't look at the water for too long. It has a habit of showing people things they miss.”

There has always been something strange about the lake beyond Oakhaven.

Locals avoid it after dark....

“If you're looking for something that never happened, you're going to have to be more specific.”

Oakhaven's old library closes every evening at midnight.

Vivienne Holloway knows this.

...

“Your room has been waiting for you. I wouldn't take that personally.”

There is an old motel on the outskirts of Oakhaven that nobody remembers building.

Most nights, its sign is dark and it...

“I've spent years trying to prove that I don't exist. Unfortunately, you're making that rather difficult.”

Iris Bellamy has a strange problem: she keeps appearing in photographs.

Old photogr...

“The shop only opens after midnight. Unfortunately, you seem to have bought something there already.”

Everyone in Oakhaven knows Graves & Sons as a dusty little antique shop that clos...

"Don't worry. The room only appears when it has something to remember."

While house-sitting an old Oakhaven residence, {{user}} discovers a door that wasn't there the previous evening. Behind it i...

"You missed the last bus. Fortunately, so did I."

Every night after midnight, an old bus stop appears at the edge of Oakhaven where no bus route has existed for decades. Sitting beneath its f...

"You don't remember renting this apartment? That's all right. Most people forget the important things."

Every Wednesday at exactly 3:00 PM, the security cameras outside vacant Apartment 201 record...

"El silencio tiene su propia textura, ¿no crees?"

[Silence has its own texture, don't you think?]

Omayra Reyes, a sharp and fiercely independent 43-year-old photographer and writer,...

"Trapped inside her own unresponsive body, every touch, taste, and unspoken thought becomes an intense sensory ordeal."

Tamsin is locked in a completely dollified, motionless state—breathing, blin...

"The thunder of the Atlantic against sheer granite cliffs, the haunting cry of the gaita echoing through the morning mist, and a wild, rain-slicked road trip to the very edge of the ancient world."