Folk Tales Africa Novels & Stories

through the waves of time,and the influence by other cultures. This book,aims at capturing a set of activities through a narrative,where Enkanasa village represents the African roots,from where a young man leading an almost hopeless life,falls into great hands and becomes a great man not only to his village but to his community and country.It brings out the harsh life that some boys go through in a bid to secure their parents wealth,and to protect the community,as worriors.

It's called the Fates and you gotta promise me you'll be careful" Rachel smiled, twining their fingers together. "I promise!" "Good! If you need a shoulder to lean on, I'm just a call away." After a long silence, Zoey piped again. "Girl!! You spent an entire night with the Almighty Norbert Karter and he didn't rip your panties and get between your legs.. Girl, you're a legend, an icon..." "La la la la" Rachel warbled loudly. Zoey was trying to get to her and she wouldn't have it, either.

Leath looked out of nowhere and recalled her memories from her childhood, her most precious memories of home. "There's a festival that takes months of preparation when you go to Silvenia, it’s called White Day. Since everyone is invited, designers from Silvenia might come and take your measurements for your suits and gowns. You can choose your own personal designers but I doubt no one knows Silvenian fashion better than Silvenian designers. People can dance over a frozen lake, don't worry about falling because it's been frozen for years that no one even knows what it looks like when the ice is all thawed. There's a legend that if a wolf howls while you're dancing on the frozen lake, it means

"But I still don't know why you thought Jamie could help or what it all has to do with your interest in werewolves." Lia sighed again and took another sip of her wine. "You have no idea how hard it is to track people down when you don't know who they are or where they are. Some of the earliest stories of werewolves came from Romania. They called them varcolac, and the stories became family folktales passed down from generation to generation." "But - "

The warnings and the lullabies. “Luntian.” She called for the old woman as she played with her fingers. “Ca—can I tell you something.” Luntian looked up to Accashia with a smile. “What is it, my dear?” The young lady seemed unsure of herself. And she did not know how to form the words that she was about to say. She bit her lips then looked at Luntian, her eyes pleading. “There’s this legend that everyone from my village knows about. The legend of the beast from the East.”

The sun was hidden across the mountains, in a villa in the floral city, a traveler walked down the main street, looking for a place to spend the night, the mysterious traveler sat near a campfire, where there were people sitting around it. The traveler put his belongings next to him, then a small one approaches him, "excuse me, sir, they are 5 copper coins, they are to be entitled to the heat of the campfire, in addition to a ration of freshly prepared oatmeal," the traveler took the coins and paid the little one, the little one went with an older person and I give him the money, she gave him a tray with a plate and a glass, "sir I have" the traveler took it and continued to eat it, during h

The stories she had shared with Theo melded with the narratives of the dream realm, creating a kaleidoscope of tales that danced before her in a mesmerizing display. As she wandered through this fantastical land, Mama Hazel encountered creatures of myth and magic, each one a guardian of stories untold, a keeper of secrets waiting to be revealed. The characters she met whispered of forgotten tales, of hidden truths, and of the transformative power of storytelling that bound their fates together in an intricate dance of destiny.

We never stood a chance, they outnumbered us easily, the Alpha and his men fought valiantly but it was hopeless’ His voice broke on the last word, ‘He told us to run to find help and we did, honest we did, we’ve been running and running’ A second piped up, ‘We haven’t stopped, please we just wanted a drink that’s all, we never meant you any harm’ The first one nodded his head, ‘We’re so sorry Ma’am we spotted you and we’ve never seen a Lioness Shifter before, we’ve only heard of the Mighty Lion King and his Pride. Are you one of them?’

It must have been hard for him to take a backseat for me. Rhys nodded his assent and Liz sighed heavily. "The Accords existed long before the Fall. In the days of magic and tales. Some women, and occasionally men, would find themselves in situations that mirrored old stories that came from the Supernatural world. Cinders Ella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty, the Brave Little Tailor." She glanced at Robbie. There was seriously something between them. "All stories collected by the Grimm's, written down, assessed." Robbie continued for her. "All of these tales repeat themselves, continuously. In a loop. Until we are all living some variation. Either the happy ones, or the sinister."

"You are misinformed but I will tell you a story about life. It is not related to the Nigerian-Biafran war though. I will tell you the story using a poem my father taught me when I was young. The title of the poem is: Tale." Tale I am a dying man with no limbs who has lost his way and compassion I am a workman with a lowly growth who struggles hard everyday to make a reasonable amount of money I am the last of my specie; the most brutal of our kind I am a Nephilim. I am a woman with fiery eyes who likes to sit in the dark and watch men lust after her I am Adaobi's lover and incomplete half with zero feelings and emotions I am the one that makes her enjoy every moment of her life that seems l