Red as Blood by Isabelle

I was never as naive as I appeared. The big, bright eyes and crimson lips were a facade, a masterpiece painted on an unfortunate and ordinary canvas – a charm. She’d known that well, once upon a time. That my nuances and faults were as real as the powder-white fairness of my skin. And unlike the rest, whose vision of me was crafted of pure fantasy, she’d loved me regardless.

So it’s important that you know: when she offered me the apple, I took it willingly.

Checkmate by Isabelle

The Virgin Queen by Alexia Sinclair

I vowed to protect him.

He never asked me to, but I did it anyway. Because I loved him. And that’s what you do for someone you love. You offer your life if you have to. If it means they get the chance to live another day.

I knew the risks. I’d seen the encroaching army. They’d crept closer, piece by piece, aiming for us. Taking us down, one by one.

Even then, I stood my ground. He was my King. And I was his lady.

I would not leave him. Not when he needed me so. 

Dangerous Fascinations by Isabelle

To celebrate the release of the first book of my YA fantasy series, The Guardian’s Mark, I’ve decided to offer an exclusive excerpt as today’s freebie!

Though the book doesn’t officially release until April 17th (tax day!), early copies are available in print! For those looking to download onto their Nook and Kindle, keep your eyes open for the link which I’ll be sure to post as soon as its live.

Either way, Happy Friday, folks!

IT WAS WRONG to stare. She knew that. She just couldn’t help herself. Some irrational part of her thought if she looked hard enough she’d see something new.

She was wrong. Everything about Kieran remained exactly the same, as closely guarded as the very first day he arrived.

She thought she’d gotten through to him out in the courtyard a few weeks back. She’d felt the little crack, caught the smile he’d tried so hard to suppress. But just as quickly, he’d built his walls back up. Now, it was nearly impossible to get through the thick emotional armor he hid behind.

Kieran shifted uncomfortably. Amaya looked away. He must have felt her prying eyes.

She turned the page of the book in front of her. The words looked foreign. She had no idea what she was reading.

Taking a chance, she peered at him from over the cover. He hadn’t moved. He still sat all alone, his eyes focused on something outside the library window. The longing etched on his face was almost too painful to bear. Amaya bit her lip, anxious to think of something to say.

He sighed. She didn’t have to open her empathic connection to know just how unhappy he was. She could hear it. Her stomach clenched. She hated how helpless she felt. Wasn’t there anything she could do or say to make him feel at home? Or at the very least, to put a more permanent smile on his face?

“Are you done examining me?”

Amaya’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

Breath of Life by Isabelle

Sculpture by AnnG at DeviantArt

He lived alone at the far end of the Great Forest, among the Whispering Trees. His cabin was a humble man’s: small, quaint, simple. Not much more than the basic necessities of life, a place to sit, a place to eat, a place to rest- and the delicate touch of a woman sprinkled randomly throughout. The yellowing lace curtains. The portrait of flowers spilling from a watering can above the mantel. Fine china collecting dust on the very top shelf of the cupboards.

Just Another Somebody by Isabelle

10:30am

I lean over in bed and tug on the curtains to see if the rain has stopped. No such luck. It’s still dark out there. The sky is a sickly kind of grey. It’s been drizzling for hours and the late morning is starting to look more like dusk.

Each time I check I’m more convinced I should stay in my pajamas and pull the blankets back over my head. But that would just mean dragging myself out later, and the prospect of being in a grocery store crawling with people I might know… well that’s even less appealing than the rain.

If I’m gonna go, I have to go now. If I don’t, it’s another night of Ramen Noodles, and I’m not sure my body isn’t already morphing into a pillar of salt.

Moisture is everywhere so I don’t even try and tame the frizzy mop of hair on my head. Ponytail it is. A yoga pants and hoodie kind of morning, all dreary and gross outside. Pretty much how I’ve felt all week.

Thank you Mother Nature, for understanding. 

Save Me by Isabelle

Surprise! Bet you weren’t expecting to see me yet again this week. While my other creative half Lisa is enjoying the breath-taking Rocky Mountains, I figured I’d fill in with something a little different. I don’t claim to be a poet, but sometimes, there’s something to be said that cannot quite be said within the structure of a story.

Either way, we love that you come to visit us here at Tales From the Hollow Tree, and we hope you continue to swing by. We really love the company. <3

And now for your regularly scheduled programming…

If Only by Isabelle

Everything about him was the same. From the sharp, arrogant angles of his jaw to the pitch black of his hair. He stood with the same rigid tension, the same restless frustration. An animal, caged in, waiting to be released.

He hadn’t let it consume him. Yet. But it would. The imperfections of a man he used to be would creep to the surface until he became the same controlling, cold, difficult leader Syr was. The man they both used to be, some distant lifetime ago.

Still, looking at him, she found it hard to believe it. Standing right there, just a few feet away, was the man she’d loved, all over again.

Life Science by Isabelle

I sense the moment she walks into the room.

“A little early for lunch,” I call over my shoulder, glancing at the large clock that hangs above the white board. “Just couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” I smirk, pour another liquid into the vial hanging above the Bunsen burner. “Don’t blame you. I’m pretty irresistible.”

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t laugh. My hands freeze where they are, the liquid in the beakers sloshing from side to side at my sudden lack of movement. I don’t turn around. I don’t have to. I know she’s there. I feel it.

She brings a mass of unspeakable energy with her everywhere she goes. Usually, it’s vibrant and warm, like being touched, embraced by a brilliant star. Today, it’s not. It crashes and cracks within her tiny frame like a thousand lightning storms.

The skin on my back prickles and burns where she stares. My eyes slip closed. I choke on the emotion her very presence conjures. My chest fills to the brim with pressure I can’t afford to release. So I exhale slowly, placing my equipment on the lab table, and force a smile as I turn to face her.

She stands no more than three feet away, her arm extended.

I’m staring down the barrel of her gun.

Awake, She Dreams by Isabelle

He came to me on a day like any other. My brothers were causing mischief in the sleepy town below the hill, while I spent my endless hours chanting through empty, cobwebbed corridors and doing pirouettes across the mahogany floors of the abandoned ballroom in the manor, overgrown with moss and vines.

The only people I ever saw were those that came at my Uncle’s command, and they were often too bereaved to sing and dance with me. All they wanted was a drink, and so I dutifully walked them to the flowing river that cut through our grounds and let them gorge themselves with water until their memories washed away with the currents of the smoky Lethe. Then, and only then, would my darling twin brother appear, in all of his somber glory, to walk them back through the land from which they came, back to my Uncle.

Euphoria by Isabelle

Here’s the truth. I’m a mistake. An accident.

A girl like me should not exist. Not because it’s impossible, (although let’s face it, it is) but because I’m just not cut out for the job.

I had a crappy childhood, like most of those nobody girls in fairytales who end up marrying princes. But I didn’t get a prince. I just became a freak.