Novels by jeanette sjöqvist

But as the world stopped spinning, I realized it wasn't the same at all. The light was different, golden and vibrant. The sun had woken up somewhere behind the canopy, its rays piercing through a sea of emerald leaves that danced rhythmically in a light breeze. Everything was green. Impossibly, vibrantly green. The foliage was so thick I could barely catch a glimpse of the sky, and the colours were so saturated they made my eyes ache. Movement caught my attention. High above, a pair of squirrels leaped between branches, but as they stopped to look down at me, I realized they were anything but ordinary. They had the bushy tails, sure, but their front teeth were unnaturally long, almost like tiny tusks and their ears were curled into tight spirals, like a pig’s tail. "Hey there," I called up, not actually expecting a peep out of them. "Do you know where I am?""In the forest, can't you see?" one of the creatures snapped back in a voice that was simultaneously deep and piercingly squeaky

"No," I whispered, the word echoing back as a hollow mockery. "No, no, no!" The stories were lies. The legends were just bedtime tales to keep kids from wandering off. Frustration, hot and familiar, surged through me. I pulled back my fist and swung at the solid rock that had just executed my dreams. But my hand didn't shatter against the stone. It vanished. The momentum sent me stumbling forward, my fist passing through the "wall" as if it were made of smoke, and I ended up punching my own leg. I froze, my heart stopping for a beat. I reached out again, trembling, and watched as my fingers dipped into the rock. It felt like cool mist. I took a deep breath, held it, and stepped through. The air on the other side was startlingly warm, a sharp contrast to the damp chill of the tunnel. I found myself in a massive chamber carved directly out of the mountain's heart.Two colossal pillars rose toward a ceiling, and in the center of the room lay a strange, intentional mound of stones, a jag

I really hate this place. I truly do.In a world defined by its crushing normalcy. Row upon row of identical suburban houses, paved streets that led to nowhere interesting, and people who moved with the rhythmic, soul-sucking precision of clockwork. I felt like a glitch in the system. I don’t fit, and I don't try to. My temper is a short fuse attached to a heavy bomb. I snap before I even realize I’m angry, my patience worn thin by the sheer monotony of it all. I’ve thought about it more times than I can count, just grabbing my gear and vanishing. I crave an adventure, a catastrophe, a change, anything to escape this colourless existence. My eyes always drift toward the edge of the horizon, where the forest begins. Deep within those woods lies the cave, a place whispered about in hushed tones. They say no one who enters ever comes back out. It’s been years since anyone was foolish enough to try, which, in my mind, only meant the odds are finally starting to tilt in my favour.A shar