Mistletoe Stories Novels & Stories

PUT FRESH WATER IN A VASE, BUT FOR WHATEVER YOU WANT BE DISCREET, IF SOMEONE ASKS YOU WHO THEY'RE FROM, YOU'LL KNOW IF YOU HIDE MY CARD. YES, YOU ARE VERY BUSY WITH YOUR THINGS AND, FORGIVE ME IF I INTERRUPTED ANYTHING TODAY, BY SENDING YOU THESE TWENTY-FIVE ROSES THE HOURS THAT I THINK OF YOU EVERY DAY .... ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZNChuNqzW8 )

“I’ve seen the way you look at me during family dinners. The way you squeeze your thighs together when I wear short dresses. You’ve been fantasizing about me for years, haven’t you?” Jamie couldn’t deny it. Her face burned with shame and arousal. “Yes,” she admitted in a shaky whisper. Lena hummed in satisfaction. “Good girl. I like honesty.” Her hand slid down to Jamie’s waist, gripping her possessively. “Come with me.” She didn’t wait for an answer. Lena took Jamie’s hand and led her through the crowd toward the quieter side of the rooftop, where tall plants created semi-private corners. Jamie’s heart raced as she followed, knowing she should pull away but completely unable to.

Swift would not be silenced. Right there, the truth dawned. It hit me square in the face. This… this is it. The stories elders whispered when I was a child, tales of bondings, of mates finding each other under the light of the Moon Goddess. I had listened, wide-eyed and naïve, never imagining the day would come for me.

Even Kaya, my wolf stirs violently inside me, sensing the threat. Derek, is the first to snap out of the confusion. "What do you mean mistletoe?" Derek demands, stepping forward, protective instincts already flaring. Cyre doesn't look away from me. That look - like I know something. That I could do something. "It's a Hallucinogenic. And also a poison. To wolves," she says quietly. "Used to weaken the mind and body of wolves when inhaled in high concentration...." Derek cut her off. "I know what a mistletoe does. What I want to know is how is it got in the air?"

She gave him a chance and he giggled excitedly like a little boy even though he was well above his thirties. "Once upon a time, Seven tribes lived within their territories but one of the tribe wanted to rule the other tribes.." "Boring," She commented. She had heard the story so many times it was becoming a nuisance to her. She turned to leave and the storyteller stopped her, "I have another interesting story!" She halted but did not look at the storyteller, "It's about a tree that grew out of Alexander the Great's remains and its called the Khoyata tree." At this point, she could no longer wait and listen to the nuisance.

Was it really an accident or something else? Misti's parents fell in love with each other when they first met in the past and they had a fairytale-like love story. Misti is fascinated by the love story of her parents and she wants the same for her life but she does not know that everyone's life is not the same and her love story will be a lot different than her parents'. But she did not know that her parents had faced a very challenging situation in the past but they overcame it with their love and faith in each other.

"I've been asking myself that same question since I heard it." "Mistotle is supposed to be extinct. No, wrong wording. It is supposed to have been destroyed completely. Didn't the formal Alpha king destroy it when he found out it was more lethal to our kind than wolfsbane?" Nancy mused, pacing back and forth as she glared at the vials on the table. "That's why it is surprising that he was being poisoned by it." "And that's why we couldn't identify the poison in his system," Nancy interjected. "Mistletoe poison, according to records, is said to be odourless and colourless, and it takes a special procedure to check if something contains it."

the old man continued, eyes gleaming, “but a creature—ancient and starved—that disguises itself in bark and moss. It waits. Hungers. And when the moon is thin, it feeds.” He ended the story with a dramatic swish of his cloak and sat back down as the fire popped and sparked. Ryan leaned toward me, smirking. “Ten gold coins says that story’s based on a real thing.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re probably right.” After some time, I stood. “I need to… step away for a minute.” Ryan nodded. “Don’t get eaten by any whispering trees.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I slipped away from the firelight.

Without a doubt, I must say that grandma always liked flowers especially roses, grandpa always tells me the beautiful stories of when he courted her and that never in his thick hands marked by the day-to-day work, a bouquet of precious red roses as red as the blood itself was missing. Whenever she narrates the story of her love, she tells me about those moments and emphasizes that each rose was her chosen promise, a rose for each day of their past union, the eternal promise for the love of her life and since then the courtyard of the house has become a beautiful rose bush with an aroma as sweet as honey. I admired them until I did it and I was so comfortable with that memory until my thought

“Kiran, you’ll need to dry at least fifty ounces of mistletoe, crush them to make a tea. The mistletoe needs to cook for two days in a red pot. Never boiling, only simmering. After the two days are up (measure your time carefully, it must be exactly forty-eight hours) pour the liquid through a sift to separate the water and the mistletoe pieces. The clear liquid should be poured into blessed glass containers that seal with a rubber lid. You need to do this on a Thursday. It should stand in direct sun- and moonlight for twenty-four hours. While you wait for the liquid to draw energy from the sun and the moon you need to slice up the root wrapped in the cotton shroud you’ll find in here. Slice