Custom Wood Burning Novels & Stories

“Although there were already LPG-fueled stoves in those days, ours was still the charcoal-fueled type. You know what I’m talking about? It’s the one made of clay and shaped like a short cylinder. It has the burner hole on top and another mouth in the front where you insert the firewood. I don’t know about father and mother’s claim that rice and other food tasted better cooked with wood. I do know though that wood as fuel is way more economical when it comes to softening meat. “In any case, my father would insist on cutting down trees on the hill and the kids gathering fallen branches along the footpaths. This although cooking on the charcoal stove always made mother’s coughing so bad. That w

The flame revealed a great room straight out of a Nordic fairytale: vaulted cedar ceilings, a stone fireplace big enough to park a Mini Cooper in, and floor-to-ceiling windows currently being pummeled by the storm. While I rummaged through the gourmet pantry (stocked with enough truffle oil and aged balsamic to survive several sieges), Damien built the fire with military precision birch bark first, then kindling arranged in a precise lattice, finally the logs positioned for optimal airflow. "Your survival skills are terrifying," I observed as the flames roared to life, casting dancing shadows across his sharp features. He dusted off his hands, the firelight catching the platinum of his weddi

"So what do we do? Burn the furniture?" "No," Cale said, looking at the chairs. "The furniture is ergonomic. We go to the beach." "The beach?" "Driftwood," Cale explained. "The storm last week deposited significant debris on the shoreline. It is seasoned by the salt. It burns hot. Also, the colors in the flame are... interesting." "Sodium chloride combustion," Elion smiled. "You just want to see the blue fire." "Blue fire is aesthetically pleasing. And efficient."

It looks like a cloud. And in the center of the room... A crib. It isn't a store-bought crib. It isn't sleek or modern or cold like everything else in this house. It is wood. Dark, rich walnut. Hand-carved. I walk toward it. My legs feel weak. I run my hand along the rail. The wood is smooth as glass. It has been sanded, polished, oiled. I look at the carvings. They are intricate. Detailed. Vines. Leaves. Wolves.

Smoke curled around a massive stone chimney, the smell of pinewood burning a warm, earthy smell. Inside, it was a cathedral to the wild. The ceiling soared, supported by massive, rough-hewn timber beams that still bore the marks of the adze that had shaped them. A monumental stone fireplace occupied one whole wall, its mouth wide enough to stand inside, and it now held a roaring fire that sent flickering, leaping shadows of warmth and light dancing around the room. The furniture was solid, built for comfort and durability: plush leather armchairs softened by generations of use, thick wool blankets in navy and crimson stripes, and tables of solid, battered oak.

Determined, he cautiously approached the hearth, his steps cautious yet resolute. Reaching out, Jake's hands fumbled in the darkness, seeking the much-needed firewood to revive the dwindling flames. His fingers brushed against rough edges, and a sense of relief washed over him as he discovered a few scattered pieces beside the fireplace. Grasping them firmly, he carefully arranged the wood, ensuring they would catch fire and cast light upon the cabin's secrets.

Kaya’s POV. My eyes open to the sound of wood crackling as it burns. As I stand up, adjusting my weight so I can sit up and rest on one arm, I watch as the fire burns the woods. It’s a beauty that lights up the space and leaves it cozy and warm for me, but what damage does it do to the woods? I think of its beauty and see that, but what happens to the woods? They burn and turn into ashes and are finally blown away, and the coldness is back except more wood is burned.

They always brought with them some flint and steel. “Nay, he did it the old-fashioned way. He took out his knife and carved some wood out of a pine tree then picked up a birch stick on the ground. He rubbed shaft and board together till all the wood dust smoldered.” “Oh,” Temujin said, sounding almost disappointed.

And now he burned down a town that produced Drewed wood. This type of wood burns easily but has a long burning period. So, it becomes the main choice for people to heat their homes when winter arrives. I can't bear to imagine how these people will survive when winter comes, even when they have escaped the threat of the Calamity. “Are you alright? We almost arrived at the meeting location with Beta Duke Ansel.” Rohan whispered while caring for my hand.

Holding her hand and showing my latest collection. The wood that I ordered from Abah Mahmud has arrived. They are so beautiful, whole wood stands with natural carvings from nature. On my instructions, they were arranged in front of the door in a random, level order. Some were rolled over, stood up and some were stacked. Centered spotlights make this a nature show. Anyone who just enters, I'm forced to enter in the natural nuances that we offer. Smiling contentedly I looked at him. "You're not tired of arranging this, are you?" asked Mas Suma probing.