Some places imprint on you.

Not just because of what they are—but because of who you were when you walked through their doors.

When I was writing The Second Coming of Grace, I found myself revisiting spaces that had once held me during transitional moments in my own life. Places I associated with creativity, comfort, quiet revelation. It’s no coincidence that these spaces ended up shaping Grace Morgenstern’s journey, too.

🥐 Future Bakery: A True Toronto Haven

If you’ve read the novel—or even the sample—you’ll know there’s a place Grace keeps returning to. A warm, bustling café with clinking dishes, good cake, and a sense of shelter. That place is Future Bakery in the Annex.

And yes, it’s real.

I spent countless hours there with a latte and my laptop, watching the light shift across the windows, letting story ideas unspool between bites of warm pierogies or that to-die-for chocolate banana cake. There was something about the atmosphere—equal parts university hub, European café, and time warp—that made me feel cocooned in the best way.

In the novel, it becomes a place where Grace lands again and again, often by accident, often when she most needs to be grounded. It’s a place of insight, of reflection, of conversation that shifts something deep. And that’s exactly what it was for me.

To the good people at Future Bakery—thank you. I wrote much of this novel with your quiet comfort wrapped around me. I hope readers who visit you after reading the book feel even a trace of the haven I found there.

📚 Threads of Light: Inspired by The Eternal Moment

Another key space in the novel is Threads of Light, a metaphysical bookshop nestled in a slightly dreamlike corner of Toronto. It’s where Grace begins to glimpse a world beyond the surface—where spirituality meets intuition, and memory takes shape in unexpected ways.

This fictional shop was inspired by a very real place: The Eternal Moment, a beloved metaphysical bookstore in the Annex that closed its doors in the early 2000s.

The Eternal Moment was one of those rare shops that felt more like a portal than a retail space. I remember flipping through spiritual books, listening to music samples, discovering new writers and teachers I might never have found elsewhere. It wasn’t just a store—it was a space for inner exploration, gently lit and slightly mysterious.

Though The Eternal Moment no longer exists (I believe the building now houses a wax bar), its essence remains woven into Threads of Light. In some ways, I think I wrote the shop back into being—not exactly as it was, but as it felt.

🌆 Places As Emotional Anchors

Toronto can be a hard city—fast-paced, disjointed, anonymous. But in writing The Second Coming of Grace, I wanted to honour the quiet sanctuaries within it. The places that catch us when we fall, offer warmth when we’re uncertain, and remind us we’re not alone.

Grace’s story unfolds in a cityscape I know intimately, not just because I lived there for years, but because parts of me still live in those cafés and bookstores.

Some stories begin in the heart. Others begin in a booth with a hot coffee and the soft clatter of cutlery in the background.

This one began with both.