Bryn Greenwood Books Novels & Stories

And the dreams were pulling me here. The trees grew thinner as I reached the edge of the Bonewood, bark white and pale like exposed ribs. The silence here was heavier. Not empty, but listening. Nyx stirred. Something’s here. I pushed deeper into the woods. No birds. No wind. Just the crunch of old leaves underfoot and the sound of my own breathing. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Then I found it. At the base of a tree split down the center like a lightning strike, half-buried in dirt and moss, was a shard of metal.

Luca paced slowly nearby, unusually quiet, unusually still. The sharpness usually carved into his features had dulled. He kept inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough air or scent. Crystal could feel it too. Greenwood didn’t feel like any place she’d been. It was different in a way the other packs weren’t. The trees swayed as if they were breathing. The soil didn’t just support, it seemed to remember. Veen knelt nearby, her long cloak spread behind her like roots of its own. “Lie down, Flame,” she said. “The tree will do the rest.”

I tell him before ducking outside and sparking up a smoke as I lean on my polished bike. My thoughts wander to the woman who called herself Flames last night. She'd had my attention as soon as her wide green eyes had met mine, her full lips curled in an amused smile as she casually dealt with Tanya. When she walked into the bar, I'd stood back and observed as everyone tracked the fiery red heads movements through the room. Whether she meant to or not, she managed to get the attention of everyone in there and I'm sure caused a few to suffer from their eyes wandering off of their ol' ladies. When she has walked away from me outside, my c**k had jumped in my trousers as I watched her round hips

"Bronwyn, you've proven something this year. People are paying attention to the work now, not the personal life." I set the phone down after that call and sat in my Pinehaven office looking out at Main Street for a long time, thinking about the woman who'd driven into town last Christmas nervous about facing her small town past. That woman hadn't known yet what she was capable of. TRENTON I'd read four pregnancy books in three months, which Bronwyn found both touching and alarming. "You highlighted things," she said, picking up the one on my nightstand. "With different colors. That's very detailed.” She looked up at me, pride in her eyes.

So she let him be. There was no convincing Bran to do things when he’d already said no. Not having her link with Bran made it more difficult to stay in the cabin and read through her mother’s books. She couldn’t bother Grayson too much during the day because he needed to concentrate on doing his job as the sheriff. Bree was amazed at the amount of information the books contained. It had everything from the beneficial uses of everyday household items to love potions, curses, and cures for every ailment.

The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on their minds, as they raced against the clock to bring this escalating situation under control. Every citizen of Greenwood was informed to remain indoors for the rest of the night to ensure their safety. As Detective Sophia and other officers approached the crime scene, they were met with a chaotic and unsettling scene. The area was littered with signs of a struggle, with broken branches and torn foliage scattered about. The ground was stained with splashes of blood, and the air was heavy with the scent of fear. The officers, trained to maintain their composure in even the most difficult of circumstances, took in the scene with a sense of detach

Brayden looked up from his computer and across the room at Meredith. “Greta, have a seat on the couch. I’m almost finished with this.” He told her and then continued to type away at something. Meredith took a moment to look at the books on the bookshelf. There were mostly business book and biographies or books inspiring greatness lining the wall. She noticed one book was displayed next to a framed photo. The photo was a woman that looked a lot like Brayden and a boy about ten years old who looked like a younger version of Brayden. She assumed it must be Brayden and his mother. The book that was displayed on a stand next to the photo was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

***** It has been three days of no much happenings, since I came back to my cell. Mathew has been helping me move around, 'cause I am still using crutches. We've maintained the same routine; breakfast, Chores, lunch, recreation, training, dinner, and back to the cells again. I spent most of my recreation time in the Library. It's easier to dodge attention, lurking amongst bookshelves and blending with the elderly and sick, reading my life away. We were heading back to the cells, when a guard I hadn't met approached me. Martin, his uniform tag read.

I was about to politely shut the door in his face so I could get back to Rose, but his last question catches my attention. “No. He told me plenty, but not that.” I whisper. Fuck knows why. “Gwynn wrote them. Apparently, they are biographies, of sorts.” The look on his face betrays his closely guarded feelings. Braydon doesn’t do well in uncharted waters, he has one of those minds that can’t rest or function at its best unless he knows a situation inside and out, but when he knows what he needs to, he shines brighter than anyone.