Mistletoe Stories Novels & Stories

I just have to grab one important thing that is usually not on the list. Mistletoe. Mistletoe can be used as a cure in very small doses but if used incorrectly it can throw a werewolf on its ass in a matter of seconds.It is just my luck mom had some stashed. "You sure it won't hurt him?" "Dont worry Saf, It will only act as a sedative.It's not like I'm using wolfsbane." The conversation with mom went exactly like the one with dad, only Sofia didn't show as much concern as Jack.

Maya said, "was the single worst four minutes of my life, and I once had a raccoon get into the shop during the Christmas rush." "How does that compare, exactly?" "The raccoon was more polite." Chloe's laugh cracked out from the back room before she even appeared, wiping flour off her hands, boots crunching over sugar someone had spilled and never swept. Outside, the snow had started again, fat, lazy flakes catching gold in the window display, drifting past the hand-carved reindeer Maya still hadn't managed to sell. Somewhere behind the counter, the radio was playing carols too quietly to make out the words, just enough to fill the silence Victoria had left behind her.

“I thought you two hated each other, but you were busy doing adult things! I feel betrayed.” "Linda!" "I'm just saying," she chuckles. “It was just for show.” “For Rachel?” Her lips curl up. I nod. "Yes, and for the mistletoe. Who even came up with a mistletoe in South Africa?” “I told you it was an international event, but it was clearly someone who wanted you to kiss my brooding uncle,” she chuckles. “And to make Rachel furious,” she squeals. “You are my spirit animal.”

And once it was over, only then, would she take stock. But first, she had to harvest these stupid fucking berries. She was deep in the woods now. The forest was so thick here that the weak winter light could barely pierce through to the shaded ground. No one should find her, spy on her, or question her presence. Really, it would be more strange for her to meet another soul here than not. Ah. There. In the crook of an old oak, the parasitic plant preened, green despite the winter's chill. Mistletoe. A sweet yuletide plant. Decorative, symbolic of warmth of the hearth through winter, loves first kiss..

“What is it for?” “You don’t know the legend of the mistletoe?” Corey asked, surprised. Serendipity shook her head, so he began to explain. “Well, it’s tradition, in some parts, I suppose, that… when a couple stands beneath the mistletoe… the gentleman is supposed to kiss the lady. That’s all.” “Oh,” she repeated herself, this time her tone completely different.

It wasn’t fatal to wolves but caused drowsiness, blurred vision, vomiting and sometimes seizures when you were human. He had ground up the stems of the mistletoe and boiled it as a tea. He kept the cooled down liquid in a flask in his jacket pocket and when he brought her coffee he put just a little in at a time. In his father’s diary it was written down that mistletoe prevented them from turning into their wolf shape.

Cole sneered at Matt and took off. They spent the afternoon buying random plants that Nora kept telling Joel about. They cleaned one entrie flower shop out of mistletoe and wolfsbane. Nora only found two plants of mountain ash. She was getting strange looks from the shop keepers but she didn't care. She was now driving Joel home. He was overwhelmed by the day and exhausted. Nora pulled her very beat up car to a stop in front of his house. “Take the mistletoe and put it around your house, it keeps them away. Take mountain ash and wolves bane its poisons. The mountain ash just needs to touch their skin.” Nora said, handing him plants.

After all, my relationship with Logan had only been for a day and the both of us had barely exchanged more than a paragraph of words. As I reached the end, I saw the lines and lines of mistletoe. The mistletoe had already formed a circular shape. They said the circular, almost stringlike, represented an appeal for an after life reincarnation. I did not believe in that before but after I got reborn, everything became fundamentally possible in my eyes. I stepped down from the walkway and immediately disappeared into the next room. The room had the strong scent of wine, bottles and cases of bottles were all over the place.

As the guardians delved further into the Whispering Grove, the ethereal whispers intensified, echoing tales of mythical creatures, realms on the brink of destruction, and powerful artifacts hidden from time. Alec, his eyes gleaming with determination, remarked, "The Silverwood is guiding us towards something crucial. These tales must have a purpose." Nebula, in tune with the grove's magic, responded, "These stories are the threads that weave the fabric of the realms. They hold the answers we seek." Lyria, the wise guide, nodded in agreement. "Every word we hear is a piece of the puzzle. We must listen carefully." Eldric, lost in thought, mused, "It's like deciphering an ancient text. The tru

Raphe panted, sucking in large lungfuls of air, “just happened?” Malcom looked around the clearing, noting for the first time the plants in the clearing: rowan and elder trees in an almost perfect circle around them with foxglove and mistletoe spilling into the small clearing. Gateways into other realms, his grandmother had once told him, sacred to the fairies and sprites and druids of long ago. “I’m not sure,” Malcom clutched the pack tighter. “But I think I know what happened to Poppy.”