This reading in the midnight library is dedicated with great love to our beautiful friend and patron Michelle.

She radiated kindness, warmth and love.

We wish we could have had more time with her and we will never forget her.

Thank you for everything, our dear spooky lovely, Michelle.

The following is intended for bizarre audiences only. Welcome to the midnight library. Very. Madam, something must be done about Irma.

Well, she won't be old enough for Demon Kindergarten for another century or so.

And her potty training is being planned.

I make reference to a horns,am they're protruding under the hood of her bunny suit.

Oh I knew this day would come.

Grinding wheel?

I'm afraid so.

I believe Stephen has one.

You know we'll have to catch her first and hold her down.

Hmm. I'm thinking some manner of blow dart might be in order.

Ha ha ha, excellent idea, darling.

I'll find Stephen. Not so very long ago, on a warm fall evening.

Miranda Merrick silently made her way along the leaf-littered path

that meandered through the village cemetery.

It was the only stroll within the town she truly enjoyed.

She paused every so often to read the centuries old scrolling headstones with the names of people she'd heard stories about

when she was a child.

The lowering orange sun kissed the weathered stones, giving them a soft peach-tinted glow,

...