Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Follow Me to the Yew Tree
    Follow Me to the Yew Tree
    Follow Me to the Yew Tree
    Ebook93 pages1 hour

    Follow Me to the Yew Tree

    By Desirée M. Niccoli

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    For centuries, Éireann has traveled alone across Ireland with nothing but visions from Death and a compulsion to warn people of their impending doom. That is, until Death sends her to the English countryside, where she meets Elin, a fellow countryman returning home after fighting in the Napoleonic wars. 

     

    Both Elin and Éireann are weary of traveling the long road alone and need only reach out to find comfort in each other's company. But when Éireann receives a startling vision of them kissing beneath a yew tree, followed by a dark omen foretelling Elin's demise, a heartbreaking truth is unveiled: he might not live long enough to make the journey home. Or for them to fall in love. 

     

    Death is playing cruel games with their lives and hearts.

     

    But there's a silver lining to seeing his death before it unfolds. If Éireann can stop it before it happens, Elin just might have a chance at love and a life that finally belongs to him.

     

    And nothing will stop Éireann from securing their future. Not even Death itself.

     

    Follow Me to the Yew Tree is an adult historical romance novella with supernatural and folkloric elements and chronic illness representation that the author shares.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDesirée M. Niccoli
    Release dateJan 30, 2024
    ISBN9798989713103
    Follow Me to the Yew Tree

    Related to Follow Me to the Yew Tree

    Related ebooks

    Royalty Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Two Poems by Phillip B. Williams

      Dec 15, 2017

      The masters are yet dead. Wanting to be human,I tried to rewrite The Waste Land. The canon’s reachcasts ruinous light. The masters’ pens breachthis page where, above, my own hand spectates. Babylonrisen, exorcism in reverse, whose nature upended now?

      6 min read

    • Article

      Sexual Tension

      Jun 5, 2023

      Sexual Tension
      13 min read

    • Article

      Daughter Of The Moon Goddess

      Jan 26, 2022

      RELEASED OUT NOW! 496 pages | Hardback/ebook/audiobook Author Sue Lynn Tan Publisher HarperVoyager On paper, this story has so many familiar elements (a plucky runaway protagonist trying to help an imprisoned parent, cruel monarchs, a handsome prince

      1 min read

    • Article

      Defy The Night

      Sep 8, 2021

      RELEASED 14 SEPTEMBER 496 pages | Paperback/ebook Author Brigid Kemmerer Publisher Bloomsbury YA The path of true love may not run smoothly, but sometimes it really does run stupidly. In a kingdom riven by disease, young King Harristan and his brothe

      1 min read

    • Article

      The Jasad Heir

      Jul 12, 2023

      ▸ RELEASED 18 JULY 523 pages | Hardback/ebook/audiobook ▸ Author Sara Hashem ▸ Publisher Orbit → That feeling when you’re 20 pages from the end of a novel and you realise the story isn’t going to end in this volume… as genre readers, we’ve all been t

      1 min read

    • Article

      5 New Fantasy Novels Invigorate Old Tropes

      May 18, 2023

      Spell books, dragons, mermaids, fairies and a magic circus all take on new life in the pages of these five enchanting tales hitting shelves in May and June.

      5 min read

    • Article

      For The Wolf

      Jun 16, 2021

      ⏵ RELEASED 17 JUNE 480 pages | Paperback/ebook/audiobook ⏵ Author Hannah Whitten ⏵ Publisher Orbit Books Wolves run through fairy tales, flashing a tooth here, a tail there. But if you pick this up expecting to see familiar motifs popping up, you’ll

      1 min read

    • Article

      Announcing The winners Of Our FLASH CONTEST

      Feb 29, 2020

      I sever the first two fingers of my left hand on a Tuesday. They fall to the ground at my feet, causing a momentary confusion as I wonder what tree has dropped this odd fruit. Then I see the crescent scar left behind by a fish hook and know that thes

      8 min read

    • Article

      The White Fox

      Oct 13, 2017

      The White Fox
      10 min read

    • Article

      Red Kite Grey Shadow

      Nov 3, 2022

      Red Kite Grey Shadow
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Straw Hat

      Aug 2, 2018

      The Straw Hat
      6 min read

    • Article

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary

      Jun 17, 2020

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Art Of Small Talk

      May 26, 2023

      The Art Of Small Talk
      5 min read

    • Article

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary

      Jun 17, 2020

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary
      7 min read

    • Article

      Song Of The Woods

      May 23, 2022

      Song Of The Woods
      7 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jul 1, 2023

      Sometimes I feel like I’m writing the scorefor a film that doesn’t yet exist, but everything that will happenin the film will happen to me. Is this what they call plot? This dailypicking up of the same things— glasses, coffee cup, pen, book, keys—and

      2 min read

    • Article

      Crawling Around In The Dark

      Dec 1, 2023

      Crawling Around In The Dark
      4 min read

    • Article

      The Periodic Stranger: When exile becomes home.

      Dec 12, 2013

      My roots are in a hilltop village west of Matera, where rabbit and boar run riot in the fields. Figs, apricots, and pears hang in heavy clusters, at eye-level and within easy reach. There, the local girls are famous for their calves, made firm and st

      21 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Follow Me to the Yew Tree

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Follow Me to the Yew Tree - Desirée M. Niccoli

      CHAPTER 1

      SPRING 1816, ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE

      I’m a long way from home.

      I’ve exchanged Éire’s rugged coast for a far-swept moor, and I don’t know why I’ve been sent, only that I’m needed. And I’m nothing if not a faithful servant.

      The road’s been quiet—I haven’t seen another soul in days—but now there’s a lone man on horseback heading West, toward me.

      All he has is what can be carried on his horse—bedroll, canvas tent, a saddle bag presumably filled with provisions. A cutlass dangles from one hip, a pistol is strapped to the other, and I’ve met enough sailors to know they are Navy-issue.

      Auburn curls frosted white roll across his brow, ruffled by the breeze, the first splotch of color upon a drab landscape. With proper sunlight, the moor’s green and purple grasses might’ve been better served, but today it’s overcast and drizzling.

      He tips his head in polite greeting, the small gold hoop in his ear catching the muted light. To say it glinted would be generous. Compared to the tattered, blue frock coat he wears with scuffed navy buttons and cuffs frayed and salt stained, or the tarnished compass that hangs from his belt, it’s the most polished thing about him.

      He doesn’t smile as our eyes meet, and yet a gentle wave of warmth settles in my chest, dripping slow and syrupy as honey. It’s a bizarre sensation. Usually, when I find the one I’m meant to meet, the emotions strike cold and harsh. Why this is different, I can’t say, and it doesn’t begin to make any more sense even as a glowing vision follows.

      It hits so suddenly my eyes swim with tears, as if I’ve dared to stare at the sun. Squinting and blinking doesn’t help, but eventually my sight clears on its own, giving way to two distinctly recognizable figures.

      They stand beneath the twisted boughs of a tree, their hands clasped, and heads bowed, backlit by an early morning sun. Beneath their feet, the moor grasses are still damp and glittering with dew.

      Years of knowing imbue that touch, one of people whose understanding is marrow deep. And maybe that explains why their clothing is unfamiliar. Why it displays a scandalous amount of skin neither acknowledge. It’s a glimpse at the times to come, a time when fabric molds and accentuates the body rather than hides it.

      His lips curl into a sweet smile as he gazes at her mouth. Whatever he whispers brings a bright flush to her pale white cheeks, but she rises on her toes, boldly closing the distance. Her raven-dark hair is ever shifting, blown about on some ghostly breeze, and her eyes are a paler green than the Lily of the Valley that grows in the tree’s shade.

      He captures her face in both hands, the words Hold Fast inked across his fingers, sailors tattoos, as much a part of him as the calluses on his palm that now scrape across her cheeks. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but he slowly sips at her mouth, savoring her like it is, stroking the column of her throat with his thumbs. It’s a tender dance of lips pursued by the languid glide of tongue, and the easy tempo endures even when he presses her against the tree, trapping her body with his own. The way he sucks her lower lip into his mouth, tugging lightly with his teeth, is so deliciously obscene, it’s a surprise when he abruptly pulls away, leaving her red and swollen.

      His eyes hold hers as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, cheeks hollowing out, before pulling the wet digits free and reaching down. It takes so very little effort to get beneath the skirt she wears. A garment that falls above the knee, not below.

      Everything is quiet save for birdsong and soft, hitched gasps.

      The vision’s gone in a flash, a snapshot in time that leaves me breathless and stunned. It takes me a moment too long to realize I’ve been given a glimpse of the future. Of my future.

      I see much but never something intimate. And never for me.

      My horse whickers nervously, yanking me back into the present. I pat its neck, murmuring soothing words, even as my cheeks burn. There, there. All is well.

      I’ve never had reason to doubt my visions before, but if this one’s to be trusted, the frowning man on the road ahead is my paramour-to-be.

      Is this why I was sent? A reward for my centuries of faithful service? A balm to ease the weight of endless days and the long road ahead?

      Hope burns bright in my chest. After witnessing so much pain and suffering, here’s finally something good to hold onto. Someone to cherish, to keep. To call my own.

      Love is the greatest gift of all, and if it’s been gifted to me, I am well-appreciated indeed. All these long centuries spent grieving may finally be worth something, culminating to this moment.

      Our horses draw near. I’m close enough to the man that I spy the constellation of freckles spanning his nose and the slight widening of dark brown eyes. Perhaps I stare too long because he hastily looks away, eyes bashfully averted, weather- and age-worn cheeks blooming a rosy color.

      He couldn’t have seen the vision. Could he?

      Glancing down at myself, I’m quickly reminded of the fact that my long skirts are pulled up in front, revealing the men’s riding trousers worn underneath. No skin is exposed, but well-regarded ladies don’t dress as such.

      There’s nothing for it. Comfort and practicality must supersede some conventions.

      I clear my throat and say, Tráthnóna maith.

      He looks up, surprised. Perhaps it’s been a long time since he’s heard the language of home. Seems just like the sort of thing a British naval officer would forbid, and I mourn the loss. Tráthnóna maith. The surprise quickly dissipates, replaced by a flash of grim, troubled panic before falling into a more neutral expression. Did he not want to be recognized? You’re a long way from home.

      So are you.

      A pause. His horse snorts, impatiently side-stepping.

      How did you know? he asks.

      I had a feeling. What I don’t say is that I wouldn’t be here

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1