Category Archives: Fiction by Isabelle

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! 🙂

Broken Diamonds

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.  Continue reading

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The Rebellion by Isabelle

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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.

Continue reading


Dust by Isabelle

The window ledge is small, far smaller than I remember. Maybe it always was. Maybe I’m the one that’s grown.

So much looks different now. The fields are green and lush as always, but the cityscape on the horizon is new. A sign of time passing. Of moments left behind.

I shift my weight, adjusting my feet, clutching the frame in a white-knuckled grip. The distance between my feet and the ground grows into a dizzying tunnel vision. I shut my eyes tight and breathe. One misstep would send me plummeting five stories down. Continue reading


Heart of a Monster by Isabelle

The tales that say he was a man turned beast are wrong.

There were never any claws or fangs. He’d never howled into the night or wrought fear upon men through feral yellow eyes.

His true nature was much more difficult to discern beneath layers of expensive, well-fitted clothing and years of practiced charm. One could easily fall victim to the seductive grin and fine cheek bones. His milky skin, smooth and velvety soft.

He never wore gloves. When he danced, the young women swooned. It was the thrill of feeling the heat of his hands upon their waists. The small, addictive taste of the forbidden. Continue reading


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. Continue reading


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.  Continue reading


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.” Continue reading


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