Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from the Hollow Tree!

Sorry we’ve been MIA – Lisa has been squirreling away working on getting her first novel edited and Isabelle has had some family business she’s needed to focus on.

We’ll be back soon, though, and may possibly be reorganizing the way we do things around here.

In the meanwhile, hope you have a great start to 2013!

A Friday Announcement

While the details are still in progress, I’m really excited to show off the cover to Lisa and I’s new Hollow Tree Volume!

As you can see, the theme for this volume is Legends, Myths & Fairytales, all of our best in the world of rewrites and reimaginings. And of course, we’ll be including a new story by each of us to seal the deal.

We hope for an end of the year release, but we will certainly give you all the details as soon as they become available!

Happy Friday, all!

Forged Through Fire by Isabelle

Welcome back to Hollow Tree, dwellers! As many of you likely know, the second book to my Guardian Circle Series, The Guardian’s Choice, has released! For those who have read the series thus far, you know that I’ve been telling a small bit of the untold, behind the scenes story right here on Tales From the Hollow Tree, involving two of the lesser known characters.

The Earth and Air Guardians first met in Dream Walker and now we get another piece of the puzzle with Forged Through Fire. Enjoy!

by hworks at stock.xchng

She watched him work from the shadows, hidden within her Element, exploring him as she could not in flesh. Her stomach fluttered, a cluster of butterflies eager to break free from their cage. He pounded at the red-hot metal of a steel blade with a large mallet, his naked back and shoulders slick with sweat. She traced the ancient script of his Mark with her eyes, from his neck down the length of his spine, stark black against the warm caramel of his flushed, sun-kissed skin.

His muscles tightened with each mallet swing. The four walls of the tiny, sweltering workshop quivered, ready to buckle, to bow to his power. 

Fairy Lights by Lisa

My most memorable birthday was probably my fifteenth. It started out wonderful. Saturday. No school. Chocolate chip pancakes. My little brother had a sleepover with his Scouts team, so even he didn’t ruin it, though I’m sure he would have if he could have.

And did I mention? Mark Cotter, the second-hottest guy in school (the hottest is Tad Claybourne, but he’s a jerk)had just asked me out on a date.

Bear in mind that when I say hottest, I mean on the Brains/Looks Qualitative Scale. Ted Claybourne was about a 6/10, giving him a 6 for Brains and a 10 for Looks, a cumulative 16, but not really the most attractive thing when you took into account his less-than-charming personality. Mark Cotter, on the other hand, was about an 8/7. More evenly balanced. And probably the nicest guy at school. All in all, a much better catch.

I brought him as my date to my party. It was spectacular, with fairy lights leading all the way from my grandmother’s back porch, far into the forest behind. The music and guests were all more beautiful than I could have hoped for. I think Mark was really impressed. He kissed me, even.

There was just one big problem… he thought I was human.

Temporary Hiatus

Hey there Hollow Tree dwellers! Given the inconsistency of our recent posts, and Lisa and I’s inability to be 100% present during these reckless summer months, we have decided to take a temporary hiatus. We’re thinking late September, when things slow back down.

That doesn’t mean the tree will be abandoned. We’re currently lining up some exciting guest bloggers who will regale you with tales from their own brilliant imaginations and we will let you know who and when as slots fill up. If you’re a writer and you’re interested, please let us know! We’ll schedule you!

Meanwhile, enjoy the sunshine folks. And we’ll see you when the leaves start browning.

The Rebellion by Isabelle

Lana waited for the search light to make another round, counting down the sequence she’d committed to memory. Rubbing sweaty palms on her thighs, she straightened her shoulders, crouching low for the run.

“Get ready,” she called behind her.

3-2-1.

They rushed across the abandoned plaza and ducked into the sharp angles of the building’s entryway. Jo’s feet were solid lead, banging on the concrete, her breath a frantic pant behind her. Lana waited for the sirens, her heart in her throat, her body tensed for another run. The army never came.

There was only silence. Silence and the sound of Jo’s hysterical breathing.

“Think you could breathe a little louder, Jo?,” she bit over her shoulder. “I don’t think the guards quite hear you.”

“Nick said he’d be here.”

“And he will.”

“Then where is he?”

“Maybe he’s running late.” Lana cupped her hand above her eyes and pressed against the glass. Everything within the building was still dark, only shadows and moonlight dancing in slow circles across the stark white tiles.

A Little Late

My apologies for the silence! I was on vacation until Sunday and got back to immediate domestic duties (note: unpacking sucks). Please forgive me! I will try and have a freebie up on Friday. I hope you’re all enjoying your summer.