We were the last of the pure race. A straggling group of humans traveling among the stars, looking for a place to call home. We never settled on any of the terraformed planets- like so many of our species- though it wasn’t for lack of space. Every week The Winged Herald reported over the wireless that a new moon or dwarf planet had been transformed into a habitable environment for the heartbreakingly finite number of human refugees.
I used to dream about what life would be like in those colonies. A life that mimicked Earth’s old routines before everything went nuclear: school, farming, government. What would it be like to wake to the warm light of a star shining through my bedroom window, signaling the day? Or to dig my fingers into the wet soil and plant foods that would grow in an array of colors more brilliant than the nebulas?
I would never know. Continue reading
After years of silence and hiatus, Lisa and I are thrilled to be returning to Fiction Fridays!
I know I can safely speak for her when I say that writing our pieces of flash fiction has always been such a fun side project for the two of us, a great way to stretch those writing muscles and to jump into stories or ideas that perhaps we were afraid to expand upon until we actually wrote them down – and loved them!
We are starting slow, just to make sure we can really give it the care it needs as we get back into the swing of things. You well get one story from each of us (2 stories total) a month for the time being. My first will post on January 12th. Lisa’s will post January 26.
Join us! Maybe you have a hankering to try your hand at something short and creative. Share it with us!
We can’t wait to see what awesome, creative things we can explore together! 🙂
Image by Dot Myl – Google Plus
Hello dear friends and imaginative travelers!
We regret to have left you at the Tree alone for such an extended period of time. We thought of you often, and despite our best efforts to return, the Door to the Tree eluded us, busy as we were fighting monsters in our path.
But if you’re here, if you’re listening… we’re knocking.
Where will 2018 lead us?
Come along. Let’s find out.
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. Continue reading
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.
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.
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
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