Wandering Stars A Novel Novels & Stories

They said King Alaric was a stone monster who ate the lives of his brides. But then I heard Leo’s scream as the wagon started to move. I didn't have a choice. I ran to the back of our small hut and pulled up a loose floorboard. Hidden underneath was a small spool of golden thread. It wasn't normal silk. It glowed with a soft, warm light. It was the Starlight thread, the source of my illegal magic. In Solvalla, weavers like me were hunted. If the King found out what I was, he wouldn't marry me. He would hang me.

"The place where every unfinished story is abandoned." The room became still. The woman frowned. "A place can't move." "No," the First Reader replied quietly. "It isn't a place anymore." "It became... hungry." The bright point continued drifting across the map. Each line it consumed vanished forever. Adrian watched several glowing paths disappear. "What happens to those stories?" The White Book answered before anyone else could. Fresh words appeared across its pages. They are forgotten before they are ever imagined. A chill ran through the room. The boy slowly closed the nameless notebook.

I sighed. I turned to the first story and started reading. I read story after story. Some were interesting, some were familiar, some were bizarre. Then, more than halfway through the book, I found it. The very first line read, "There once was a young girl. Her wolf had no name." It was titled, 'Child of Stars', kind of fitting since my Dad's wolf is Starfire. My wolf chimed in with her usual pessimism, 'It won't help.'

I breathe him in—leather, smoke, danger and it’s intoxicating. “Nova,” I say finally, because my mouth is a traitor. “My name’s Nova.” His smile like he is right about something. “Figures.” “Figures?” “Stars burn out fast,” he says, his voice so soft it’s almost kind. Almost. “But when they go, they light up the whole sky.” And just like that, I know I’m in trouble. Big, blue eyed, leather-clad trouble.

“YOU WERE NEVER THE ONLY ANOMALY.” And far above the Frostlands… The stars began descending toward the world.

She knew she needed to think about turning in for the night, but she couldn't seem to make herself move. Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, Angus walked around the circle and sat in the chair beside her. "It's a beautiful night," Angus observed softly. Anna nodded. "It is." "I don't think I've ever seen as many stars." He gestured upward with his chin. "Ye sure as shite don't see them in the city. I thought the best stars were over the ocean from my beach house, but Wyoming has it beat by far."

“Please follow me, Monsieur.” He said while my hands were in Maverick’s hold like he was afraid that I might run. We walked through a beautiful sitting area with a sofa and a flat television screen. I had a short time to inspect cause Maverick was already taking me up the stairs and as my head made contact with the air outside once again, the starry night sky blossomed with thousands of stars coming into view. The sky was beautiful deep blue which reflected the beautiful Seine river below us. I saw one table placed for two with brightly lit candles, and roses in middle.

The council wolves, old and scarred, looked at each other. “If they forget,” one said, “the weight comes back to the sky. And to the Rememberer.” Nova nodded. “Then we remind them why.” She started a new kind of journey. Not planting petals where wolves forgot. Planting petals where wolves chose to forget. She walked east for 90 days. Found a village with no Both Trees. The trees there were plain. Green only. Wolves had painted their moons white. Blank. Smooth. “Why?” Nova asked the leader. He was young, maybe 40. Eyes tired.

I hope you are too, and would be ever so humbled if you let me know what you thought of my little part two. Being able to explore my characters through their own points of view was an eye opening experience, and I hoped you loved tuning into Dalton, Kendra, and Jake's thoughts just as much as the lead's, Hollis and Whitney's. Despite this book taking five months to write, a month less than two of my other novels, "Not All Who Wander Are Lost" is by far my longest book, nearing 600 pages. I couldn't avoid it since there was so much I wanted to cover, and there are no regrets.

The stars, dotting the firmament like shimmering diamonds, evoked memories of times past, precious moments he held dear in his heart. Helena, appearing like a gentle apparition, broke the silence with her warm presence. Her soft steps echoed in the backyard, a gentle echo filling the space between them. As she approached Bruno, she found herself enchanted by the same spell he was experiencing, sharing the fascination for the starry sky. “Everyone has left,” she said softly, her voice echoing like a gentle melody in the quiet night. “What are you doing out here alone?” Bruno turned to face her, his eyes reflecting the brightness of the stars. A tender smile curved his lips as he explained his