Crooked Tree Novel Novels & Stories

You'll be able to find me on various SM pl@forms so make sure you come check in on the latest :) I am currently working on more Mafia romances, a new series called The Notorious Five. If you haven't read this, you will want to as it is so much better than Cruz, darker and grittier. This is the series that has taken up most of my time and if you read the books, you will see why. They are constantly updated and the series is almost finished. If you find me on SM, you'll be able to find out where the works are :)

She smiled, but it was a mirror’s smile, not her own. Esi reached out to stop her. The child whispered: “You’re new here.” Her voice shifted mid-sentence — changing pitch, age, even accent. Tano pulled Esi back. “She’s already been rewritten.” --- At the center of the village stood a Tree of Paper — bark made of woven scrolls, roots made of black thread. The wind didn’t rustle it. It read itself. Constantly. Pages rising and falling like breath. Esi stepped close. One page fluttered loose and hovered in the air before her eyes.

The darkest are the times when his perception brightly shines. The surface of the trunk had a fissure that stretched over to unusual length, almost like an intentionally created crack. Surprisingly, this crack was so tiny and thin, it wasn't even visible to the naked eyes. The tree's rough surface made it even harder to spot. After Creed ran his finger to make it easy for them, Colt was the first to notice. His eyes widened immediately. The next second, Agenor noticed it too. Nakiya's eyes also adjusted in a couple of seconds. Almost immediately, Agenor raised his fist. This time, Nakiya and Colt intentionally stepped away from the tree. Creed also backed off now after seeing the non-vocal

Our attention were all shifted to Mikael’s discussion it was a completely perfect diversion which is both useful in our merits and for a distraction. The bright surroundings began to dim when we reached the orifice of the green zone of the Crooked Forest. The Equidaes neighed and halted making slight bump in the carriage. I peered outside through the window although it was daylight the surroundings perceives sundown because of the shade of the colossal trees. Albeit it was murky it did not hide the majestic life of the forest. It was a healthy life force untainted by the hands of the wizlings perhaps it was because of the this forest was usually off limits since it was brimming with monsters

Vladimyr was on his back in the underbrush, expression blank with betrayal as the offending tree limb bobbed gently above him. “I’m going to kill every tree in this forest,” he said flatly. “You can’t,” I wheezed. “There are too many.” Victor leaned over him. “Shall I write the epic? The Fall of the Noble Oak and the Vampire Who Lost to It?” “I hate all of you.” “We love you too,” I said, offering my hand. He took it with the weariness of a man who’d just faced down his worst enemy and lost. —---

The air grew more and more cold the farther they got, and there were faintest whispering in the air, sounds like the trees themselves were talking. Far down the bridge they could see a clearing. However, it was unlike every other they had seen in the Grove. This tree line was larger; its trees soaring up over them like ancient guardians. Other than that massive stone sculpted with symbols we would never be able to make heads out of, there was nothing more in the clearing than what lay instantly around us. The knot glowed with the same green light as it. The glow from the knot in Serakha’s hands had not yet faded. "This is it," she whispered. "The heart of the Grove."

"It's alive." A tree that has been cut down cannot come back. But the life lingering in the bond mark had not gone out after all, sustained by the hot spring that drove out the cold, the broth that restored my strength, and that fierce, pure human love. That shoot was no miracle out of nowhere. It was every footprint Leon left carrying me up the hill, every bowl of broth Martha brought me, and my finally being willing to believe that I deserved to be loved. Here I finally left the broken version of myself behind, and stepped into a new life.

I murmured relaxing in the tree. Up in the tree, the wind was blowing cool and I felt that no one would come to disturb me. I also played my cellphone in the tree. On this tree the cellular network is so smooth that I feel free to open social media. I saw comments about readers about my novel. There are many kinds of comments, some like it and some hate it. Every comment is funny, there are even readers who are excited about the character's attitude and want the storyline to be changed. Meanwhile, under this tree, a young man and a tourist has taken shelter under the tree.

"Eli! I curse you to die a wretched death, with no body left to bury!" So his curse really did come true. I shut my eyes, too drained to feel anything but a hollow calm. And then, something wrenched me upward. The world blurred past, wind screaming in my ears. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the place I both knew and dreaded: home. It was December 29th. The manor was strung with gold tinsel and paper snowflakes—every corner bright with seasonal cheer. But I felt no warmth. The festive colors only burned my eyes, sharp and unsettling.

Far from the city, where moonlight bathed forests in silver, Fierro and Marion stood before the sacred grove. The air here was heavy with breath, the slow exhale of an ancient being. The Tree of Life, roots sprawling like veins across the earth, leaves trembling with quiet despair. Marion stepped closer, the faint glow of his golden eyes mirrored in the sap’s reflection. “It’s fading,” he whispered. “The balance is shifting too fast.” Fierro knelt beside him, touching the bark. “The corruption spreads from below. Something’s feeding on its roots.”