AdriiChan

"Hard words and bitter taste were thrown into the air, but in the air they did not remain, this, because they met head on with a bird with soft feathers. The beautiful white bird, to which they have the color of peace. This one was played with all against a rock of uncertainty, full of jealousy and pain. Without any delicacy, dear bird, he ended up hurting himself badly because of the pain of others. His feathers got dirty like the dusty white stones after a quick rain. But that wasn't everything. After realizing what had happened, he got up carefully and looked up. There was his house, his place of walk and his life."

In a small community dominated by a powerful farmer, a man who has always rejected violence sees his life destroyed by a massacre. Faced with loss and injustice, he embarks on a journey of revenge that will transform not only his destiny, but also that of an entire community.

santozzNew Author

Introdução: Este livro é como se uma garota escrevesse várias cartas para alguém, mas quase nunca as entregasse para está pessoa. Ao longo das cartas ela vai demonstrando como se sente em relação ao que está acontecendo.

Vornek is a lumberjack who traded the big city for the solitude of the forest. Quiet, rough, with calloused hands, he lives in the clearing, carving wood and avoiding the world. Until the day Rubin crosses his path—young, with black hair and eyes that shine in the shadows, wearing a lilac dress and a scent of lavender that clings to memory like sap to bark. He doesn't know who she is. He doesn't know where she came from. He only knows that, from the very first moment, everything he builds has her name hidden in the wood. But the forest keeps secrets, and the village of Pedra Alta is not as quiet as it seems. While Vornek struggles against his own silence and tries to learn how to love, shadows from the past draw near, and the craft of woodcarving may be the only thing capable of saving them.

ANNA VESPERNew Author

Ele se lembra de tudo. Da mãe, dos dias com Clara, das coisas que disse e das que deixou passar. Mas lembrar já não parece suficiente. Entre objetos guardados e uma carta inesperada, ele procura algo que ainda seja capaz de fazer diferença.

worrel

Corações em busca de harmonia fomentam dentro de si uma perpétua dissonância. Ela faz tinta com a terra seca do quintal; ele dá nome a tudo o que se bebe e jura que água e vinho, juntos, são uma mistura intragável. Anos depois da tarde em que a chuva não veio, a mesma tempestade alcança os dois em lugares diferentes. Talvez seja tarde para voltar. Talvez nunca tenha sido sobre vinho.