Posy Mallow and the Midnight Post

Some doors are too small for grown-ups to see. But they were never too small for a brave heart.

Ten-year-old Posy Mallow is quite certain she'll never belong anywhere again. Dragged to sleepy Mossgrove to tidy up her late great-aunt's crooked, toffee-coloured house, she finds only dust, stopped clocks, jars upon jars of buttons — and the familiar ache of being the new girl who won't stay long enough to make friends. She's the sort of girl who writes letters to the best friend she left behind, then folds them small and never, ever posts them. Because an unanswered letter is a lonelier thing than no letter at all.

Then, on her very first midnight, a keyhole no bigger than a freckle begins to glow warm gold in the attic wall. Behind it stands a door no taller than a teacup — and beyond that, the Midnight Post Office, where letters between hedgehogs and moths and glow-worms are sorted by lantern-light and carried out into the dark. To step through the tiny door is to become tiny too. Tiny, and brave, and — at long last — needed.

But something is wrong in the world beyond the wall. One by one, the doors of the Post are being sealed shut. The great Sorting Light is guttering low, and a sorrowful old owl means to silence every last letter forever. With the Hush Moon rising and the dark threatening to go quiet for good, the smallest carrier of all must deliver the one letter that could mend a broken heart — before it's too late.

Warm, witty, and glowing like lantern-light, Posy Mallow and the Midnight Post is a tender, twinkling adventure for readers who love secret worlds, second chances, and the quiet courage it takes to wave back.

Some letters are worth any danger to deliver. Some doors are worth being brave for.

Open the door. Step inside. The Post is waiting.