She was discovered on an antique shop shelf—tucked behind cracked teacups and dented picture frames. With her vintage habit, enigmatic smile, and quietly unsettling presence, she seemed like the perfect candidate for the Haunted Doll Award we present each year at our Winter Hauntings award ceremony.

But Sister B had other plans.

Before a night was up, she’d made herself at home—pattering through the boat on plastic toes, scribbling herself into podcast crib notes, perching near manuscripts with a red pen in hand, whispering inspiration at odd hours. To keep her busy, I’ve put her in charge of our first quarterly publication devoted to local folklore, uncanny wonder, weird tales, and the kinds of stories that bloom in forgotten corners. Welcome to Sister B Zines.