The Poison Tree A Tale of Hindu Life in Bengal By Legendary Bankim Chandra Chatterjee author of Anandmath.

"The Poison Tree: A Tale of Hindu Life in Bengal" by Bankim Chandra Chatterji (translated by Miriam S. Knight). Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

From an incredible new voice in psychological suspense, a novel about the secrets that remain after a final bohemian summer of excess turns deadly. This taut psychological thriller begins when Karen and her nine-year- old daughter, Alice, pick up Rex from a ten-year stint in prison for murder. Flash back to the sultry summer in 1990s London when Karen, a straight-A student on the verge of college graduation, first meets the exotic, flamboyant Biba and joins her louche life in a crumbling mansion in Highgate. She begins a relationship with Biba's enigmatic and protective older brother, Rex, and falls into a blissful rhythm of sex, alcohol, and endless summer nights. Naïvely, Karen assumes her newfound happiness will last forever. But Biba and Rex have a complicated family history-one of abandonment, suicide, and crippling guilt-and Karen's summer of freedom is about to end in blood. When old ghosts come back to destroy the life it has taken Karen a decade to build, she has everything to lose. She will do whatever it takes to protect her family and keep her secret. Alternating between the fragile present and the lingering past with a shocker of an ending, The Poison Tree is a brilliant suspense debut that will appeal to readers of Kate Atkinson, Donna Tartt, and Tana French.

Nazi Germany: Hitler Youth members Hans and Fritz enter the Black Forest to hunt down a mysterious man in a toga. Yet after they eat magic mushrooms, things go haywire. Their woodland presence alarms the elf king, distrustful of mortals and enraged that the fairy king has failed to guard his borders due to a family crisis: One of his consorts has abandoned him for a dancing bear from Punjab, escaped from a traveling circus. Later, when the fairy liege and his elvish rival find that the accursed Poison Tree of old has awoken, they learn that their peaceful kingdoms face an even graver threat. The Poison Tree must be felled with a magic ax, requiring aid from the Moth Queen, a mysterious agent of divine retribution who kills violent men via moths and moth holes. In the end, only spiritual methods will mend “the breach,” the crack in a protective shield separating mortal and fantastical worlds.

This eBook has been formatted to the highest digital standards and adjusted for readability on all devices. The Poison Tree revolves around Nagendra, a wealthy zamindar, and his wife Surjamukhi, who loves her husband very much. On a trip to Calcutta Nagendra meets young orphan girl, Kunda Nandini and decides to bring her into his family. The induction of Kunda Nandini creates a distortion in fidelity of Nagendra to his wife.

Olivia Osborne is back. She has a demon to find, a past to uncover, and a future to plan. Dive back into the murky recesses of Olivia’s shadowy world as she searches for the truth about life and death, good and evil and the twilight in between. Gran warned against mixing the light with the dark--that magical place where the dark and the light swam together turned everything to grey. The Fruit of the Poison Tree bears it all. Olivia Osborne is many things: a sensitive, an empath, a reader of death. Is she also a demon dealer? Or is she something else?

Nagendra Natha Datta is about to travel by boat. It is the month Joisto (May—June), the time of storms. His wife, Surja Mukhi, had adjured him, saying, "Be careful; if a storm arises be sure you fasten the boat to the shore. Do not remain in the boat." Nagendra had consented to this, otherwise Surja Mukhi would not have permitted him to leave home; and unless he went to Calcutta his suits in the Courts would not prosper. Nagendra Natha was a young man, about thirty years of age, a wealthy zemindar (landholder) in Zillah Govindpur. He dwelt in a small village which we shall call Haripur. He was travelling in his own boat. The first day or two passed without obstacle. The river flowed smoothly on—leaped, danced, cried out, restless, unending, playful. On shore, herdsmen were grazing their oxen—one sitting under a tree singing, another smoking, some fighting, others eating. Inland, husbandmen were driving the plough, beating the oxen, lavishing abuse upon them, in which the owner shared. The wives of the husbandmen, bearing vessels of water, some carrying a torn quilt, or a dirty mat, wearing a silver amulet round the neck, a ring in the nose, bracelets of brass on the arm, with unwashed garments, their skins blacker than ink, their hair unkempt, formed a chattering crowd. Among them one beauty was rubbing her head with mud, another beating a child, a third speaking with a neighbour in abuse of some nameless person, a fourth beating clothes on a plank. Further on, ladies from respectable villages adorned the gháts (landing-steps) with their appearance—the elders conversing, the middle-aged worshipping Siva, the younger covering their faces and plunging into the water; the boys and girls screaming, playing with mud, stealing the flowers offered in worship, swimming, throwing water over every one, sometimes stepping up to a lady, snatching away the image of Siva from her, and running off with it. The Brahmans, good tranquil men, recited the praises ofGanga (the sacred river Ganges) and performed their worship, sometimes, as they wiped their streaming hair, casting glances at the younger women. In the sky, the white clouds float in the heated air. Below them fly the birds, like black dots. In the cocoanut trees, kites, like ministers of state, look around to see on what they can pounce; the cranes, being only small fry, stand raking in the mud; the dahuk(coloured herons), merry creatures, dive in the water; other birds of a lighter kind merely fly about. Market-boats sail along at good speed on their own behalf; ferry-boats creep along at elephantine pace to serve the needs of others only: cargo boats make no progress at all—that is the owners' concern.