Lyra’s greatest desire was to write a story worthy of Miriel Takkenridge. Three years ago, when Lyra first moved to Bridgewater Falls as an aspiring writer, Miriel took her in. Since then, she had shared the...

Cinnamon-scented steam still wafts from my basket of freshly baked muffins. A light breeze ruffles the brunette bangs peeking out of my crimson bandanna. I hope the checkered towel tucked into the wicker will...

The air vibrated with a low, ominous hum. Usually, that meant the refrigerator was acting up again, its door rattling just enough to dislodge any unguarded treats—and my cue to position myself for any falling...

“Save the world… again?” Miriel stroked the white hair between her faithful St. Bernard’s ears. The hulking brute glanced up at her, rolling his eyes, mouth agape. Oh, you think you’re too old for this, do...

“Can you get the door, Miriel? Peaches here is a real handful,” Stephanie Brent said to me as she struggled with a little orange tabby. It snarled shrilly and scrabbled at her pink jacket’s collar. Tyler...