The True

The True

by Amanda Gale Marks

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Overview

Lives in a remote Northumbrian valley are separated by centuries but woven togeher in the heart of the trees.

Coquetdale, Northumberland

1725. After the final tragedy of an age-old feud, Sam’s mother disappears. His guilt-ridden search brings unexpected adventure and romance. As a fellow of the secret order of ‘The True’, Sam learns to enhance his affinity with nature, and enigmatic links across time are revealed to him in ancient woodlands.

2000. Isolated hill-farmer, Kate, is cautiously attracted to an intriguing stranger brought to her door by endearing runaway, Joe. The man is certainly odd but not disturbing, unlike her stalker. Further down the dale, Kate’s woodsman cousin, Nick, falls in love with a mysterious young woman who arrives with spring and disappears as summer ends.

Middle Wood links these seemingly disparate lives separated by centuries, but is that their only connection? Does the answer lie with The True?

"A story is never finished until you can read it in the trees."

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781916142206
Publisher: Antler House Press
Publication date: 10/04/2019
Pages: 378
Sales rank: 1,117,581
Product dimensions: 5.06(w) x 7.81(h) x 0.84(d)

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

SHE ARRIVED WITH SPRING

FOG

KILCAITH CASTLE

Birch

TRUE

Rowan

THE LECTURE

Ash

THE HAWK & THE HERON

THE COVERT

JUMPERS

Beech

HORSESHOE PRIORY

THE EVERY TREE

CONNECTION

THE STRANGER

Alder

THE KING’S HEAD

THE VALLEY

Oak

SCIENTIA POTENTIA EST

ITCH SCRATCH ITCH

PULLING THREADS

Willow

BABES IN THE WOOD

CLOUDBERRY

WANTED

FUTURE, PAST, PRESENT

THE PATIENT

Sycamore

YAN, TYAN, TETHERA

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

PAPER KISSES

LOST AND FOUND

ROCK ART

REVELATION

THE RECORD PLAYER

EN GARDE

DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

WAIFS AND STRAYS

HORIZONTAL LINES

SAMHAIN

Yew

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

A SPIDER’S WEB

ARBOREAL SCRIBE

Woodland

We are woodland and we are never silent. Never.

Do you hear our voice?

Wind often makes our trees dance and shake to the rhythm of the day, be it a gentle, leaf-ruffling breeze or an all-out branch-cracking gale. Rain falls demurely onto our blankets of welcoming greenery with a hushed sigh, or spitefully stabs anything in its path in a desire to be heard. Birds sing sweet songs from our boughs and branches, squirrels scritchety-scratch up our trunks of wrinkly bark, and throngs of insects hum incessantly around us.

But these sounds are not our voice.

Only a few remaining wise hearts hear our voice — the ancient word of the forest — and understand the true connection.

Listen.

We are a living, breathing, connected community.

We are alive.

We are life.

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