Logline
Set in 1816—‘the year without a summer’—four darkly humorous tales unfold across the Alps each within its seasonal setting. As characters grapple with love’s devastating cost—from vengeance to reckless risks, doomed illusions to demanding proof—each story explores the bittersweet irony of passion’s consequences.

Setting
The bucolic yet unforgiving Alpine landscape of the Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia (Königreich Lombardo-Venetien in German), then part of the Austrian Empire.

Theme
Is love worth pursuing, even if it leads to catastrophic consequences?

Tone
Dark humor laced with poignant drama. Basically you won't find anything you expect form a Harlequine romance.

‍Country of origin
Italy
‍

Logline
Inspired by a real case, discredited journalist Marco Bozza is sent to a sun-soaked seaside town to investigate the disappearance of a young boy. What begins as a mundane assignment spirals into corruption, incompetence, and absurd prejudice, as Marco clashes with a town desperate to blame anyone but the guilty.

Setting
The sea town of Viareggio at the end of the 60s, a period of social discovery, great music, striking design, and simmering tensions beneath its glamorous surface.

Theme
Does truth have the power to make a difference, or is it doomed to be buried beneath fear, prejudice, and corruption?

‍Tone
Unsettling and human, blending dark humor and grotesque irony with drama, exploring the chaos of a fractured justice system with sharp, investigative storytelling.

‍Country of origin
Italy

For anyone fascinated by stories and the writing process, Georges Simenon is a mythological figure. With around 400 novels, he’s one of the most prolific writers. Best known for creating Inspector Maigret, he also wrote over a hundred "romans durs"—lean works exploring the human psyche. Many of them examine a recurring theme: men abandoning routine and surrendering to obsession, often leading to crime.

In The Man on the Bench in the Barn, a moment of deliberate inaction—one of the most haunting examples of "passive revenge" in literature—sets off a chain of events that pushes the protagonist to his breaking point.

The story unfolds in a claustrophobic, snow-bound cottage in late-’60s Connecticut. Donald, a dissatisfied lawyer, is in a silent war with his graceful wife while obsessing over Dona, the beautiful fiancée of his charismatic friend Ray—whom he envies deeply.

Simenon’s natural affinity with cinema—he was a friend of Fellini's and headed the jury which awarded 8½ the Palme d'Or—makes this novel particularly fitting.  His stories often read like self-contained, character-driven screenplays. The Man on the Bench in the Barn was adapted for the stage by Oscar-winning screenwriter David Hare who also wrote celebrated adaptations like The Hours and The Reader. Thank you, 400 times, Georges.

Something is rotten in Tokyo—especially in that bento factory. This book is a chilling masterpiece: grotesque, violent, and unsettling enough that most reviews come with a warning. If you're averse to physical or emotional violence, steer clear.

The story centers on four women—very different, but all trapped in hard lives and financial struggles. They work the night shift at a bento factory, a soulless place that reflects their own sense of entrapment. When Yayoi kills her abusive husband, the others join her in a plan to get rid of the body. What follows is a slow descent into darkness: dismemberment, loan sharks, Yakuza.

The book unfolds through multiple points of view. No one is clearly good or evil; morality is murky, shifting. But Kirino writes such rich, layered characters that even at their worst, you understand them. This is more than a crime novel. It explores the banality of daily life, how easily control slips away, how anyone—under pressure—is able to commit hideous acts. It’s also a sharp look at women’s roles in 1990s Japan, and the understated violence of capitalism.

From the first page, there's tension humming beneath the surface, only enhanced by moments of pitch-black humor. Out won the Mystery Writers of Japan Award and helped open the door for a new generation of female crime writers. It’s brutal and brilliant. That’s why Yoro loves it.

Sex Criminals is wild, offbeat, and disarmingly sincere: packed with raunchy humor, sharp self-awareness, and emotional depth. From its neon glow to off-kilter monologues, this graphic novel doesn’t just tell a story—it performs it. Panels bend, break, and talk back, keeping you on your toes.

Meet Suzie and Jon, two ordinary people with an extraordinary ability: when they orgasm, time stops. What begins as a strange discovery becomes messier. With great powers comes great responsibility—but instead they decide to rob a bank to save Suzie’s book store. What could have been a one-joke premise evolves into an exploration of identity, repression and connection.

Fraction writes with wit and heart, creating funny, broken and likable characters—even when they’re selfish or scared. Zdarsky’s art is brash and bold, constantly challenging visual boundaries. Together, they craft something weirdly beautiful: a comic that embraces absurdity without losing its emotional core. Sex here is funny, but also political. Intimate. Lonely. The book digs into taboos without mocking its characters. It critiques therapy, bureaucracy, and how modern life sterilizes desire—funnily, turning everything into pornography. Beneath the humor and time-freeze sequences, there’s real feeling.

It’s not just about crime or orgasms—it’s about what happens when people connect in chaos, and time stops, if only for a moment. Yoro is glad to have found this.