Somewhere in London, there’s a tea shop that keeps unusual hours.

The sign says OPEN most mornings. The tea is exceptional. The proprietor is quietly peculiar in a way that’s difficult to articulate — something about the silver scars on his hands, the way the building seems to breathe, the occasional sound of piano music when no one visible is playing.
You’re welcome here.

The door opens soon!

The Thirteenth Teacup

A Brew to Settle the Soul — Book One

Arthur Penwright runs a tea shop where the blends are intentional and the warmth is the kind that settles in and stays. His two resident ghosts help with the morning rush. Most customers never notice.

Then a leather-bound ledger appears on his reading table and writes his name in golden ink. The Census of the Dead has found its new psychopomp.

The first case on its list has been waiting ninety-nine years.

Seven women. One betrayal. One century of being unseen.

And a historian named Elora Finch who follows threads until she finds out what they’re attached to — no matter where they lead.

The door opens soon!

Pull up a chair. The first chapter is yours. No strings attached.

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