Top Menu

Tag Archives short stories in five minutes


Welcome! I’m participating in Weekend Writing Warriors (this is the link directly to the hop) again this weekend, but instead of sharing another snippet from Rescued by the Spy, I’m going to share a bit from a new short story, resident here on my blog and absolutely free. It’s called “Among the Trees, There are Dreams” and it’s an erotic fairy tale.

Among the TreesHere’s my segment:

The villagers kept away, and that was her desire. She didn’t want the voices to bring her pain, make her too close to anyone. When they had nightmares, the images and their unconscious screams haunted her for a long time.

But this man, this intrepid man, had come into her forest. Why?

For a while, she sat beside him and listened to his dream. It was erotic, primitive, full of lust touched by tenderness. Although she’d experienced the sexual dreams of other people when she lived in the village, they had never been about her.

The short story is told in two segments. It’s part of my Short Stories in Five Minutes series, and each segment takes less than five minutes to read. I hope you’ll come back to read this free shortie, and moreover, I hope you enjoy it.

Have a lovely weekend!

Dear Readers, the winner of the personal page prize for my site from the Cold Nights, Hot Reads Blog Hop is Joye. All the other prize winners can be found on this page. Thank you to everyone who participated, and good luck on the next hop.

Now that we have that business taken care of… Today, I’m bringing you the beginning of another serial short story today. This is based on a writing prompt from Seventh Sanctuary, however, the story barely hints at the prompt. About all they have in common is the forest. Alas, my imagination isn’t restricted to other people’s story lines. I think you’ll like it, though. It’s a bit of a fairy tale, and full of romance. There is a sexy part, though, so use your discretion when choosing where and when to read it.

This segment is about 800 words long, so should take you less than five minutes to read.

Among the Trees

Among the Trees, There are Dreams
by Patricia Green
© Copyright 2015 Patricia Green
All Rights Reserved

I hear my own voice. I feel the touches. I am the union. I will find him.

Sondja stepped daintily through the forest leaves and twigs, her ghillies protecting her feet, though she knew the trees and their fall would never harm her. She was of the forest, it was part of her. In the pre-dawn, she had awoken to the voice–a familiar voice, though she could not place it–calling her name not far away. Voices in her mind were not new to her, she’d heard them her whole life, especially in the dreaming hours. But this voice was vaguely remembered, tender, passionate, deep and resonant. So she followed it.

The man lay among the leaves, having made himself a rough bed on the ground. He was wrapped in his cloak, protected from the new Autumn chill. He was dreaming, of course. She could only hear the voices when they were dreaming.

In this case, he was dreaming of her. Sondja reasoned that he must have seen her the day previous, possibly when she was out gathering wild mushrooms and berries. She was so often lost in her own thoughts when she communed with nature, making her apologies to the things that gave her life when she had to harvest them. But it was unusual for anyone but her to be out in the middle of Briarwood, where few cottage-dwellers came. They thought the forest haunted, which was not true, but it served Sondja’s purposes to let them think that. When she went into the village to trade her fruits and vegetables for fish and flour, she allowed them to think her fey and strange. They kept away, and that was her desire. She didn’t want the voices to bring her pain, make her too close to anyone. When they had nightmares, the images and their unconscious screams haunted her for a long time.

But this man, this intrepid man, had come into her forest. Why?

For a while, she sat beside him and listened to his dream. It was erotic, primitive, full of lust touched by tenderness. Although she’d experienced the sexual dreams of other people when she lived in the village, they had never been about her.

In his mind, they were locked in a naked embrace. His mouth, his hands, were everywhere on her writhing body. She could almost feel the hands as she sat there. They made her skin grow hot and her loins grow moist. He was envisioning her golden hair spread among the gold and red leaves; loose tendrils twined with the colorful fall until it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. His mind gave her dream-self passion, and she felt his hips between her thighs. It was foreign, but in the dream it was as natural as breathing. She moaned; was it in the dream, or in reality that she voiced the sound?

His name was Darter, she knew it nearly as well as her own, though they had never met before. In the dream, she uttered his name, and when he pierced her veil, she called it out loudly. Nearby, where she sat eavesdropping, the trees trembled. It might have been the wind, but Sondja thought it was more likely the shadow of her pleasure. Because Darter did give her pleasure, both in the dream and outside of it. Her body shook with rising tension, and in the dream she squeezed him tight against her, her hips rising and falling with his thrusts. Sitting nearby, she eased her skirt up to her hips and touched her thighs, imagining his body between them, though imagination was hardly needed, so vivid was the dream.

He was muttering in his sleep, and she heard the words clearly in his dream, even while they were unclear and foreign in reality. He was telling her she was beautiful, that he wanted her, that he needed her. Aye, those things were true, at least in his eyes.

Outside the dream, Sondja felt his deep attraction for her, and she grew more wet, touching herself as he was touching her in his dream. His hand moved from where it had been pleasuring her even as he thrust, and she writhed beneath him, scratching his back in her throes, her hips rising and falling in the tempo of lust.

It didn’t take long, it was sudden, in fact, but pleasure shot through her and her head spun where she churned on the forest floor. His sound was guttural, and the forest sighed deeply when his seed came into her. Nearby, she gasped, squirming, finally removing her busy fingers because she could stand no more. The feelings were too bright, too powerful.

She felt far too close to this intruder. When he jolted awake, Sondja knew she was caught. There was no hope that she would run away before he saw her. She threw down her skirt and rose to her feet, even as Darter sat up and spied her.

Thank you for reading. The second half of this story can be found here. It also is a less-than-five-minute read.

short stories in five minutes

Are you ready for more romance? A satisfying ending? A little magic? Read the rest of The Vessel, my free, off-the-top-of-my-head short story, written with blog followers in mind. If you’re not already following, sign up and be the first to know when new stories, freebies, and new book releases happen.

The Vessel is a two-part story. The first part can be read here.

Part Two follows. It’s about 1200 words and should take you about 6-7 minutes to read.

the vesselThe Vessel (Part 2 of 2)
by Patricia Green

© Copyright 2015 Patricia Green
All rights reserved.

Gill left Lorelei at her lodgings and they agreed to meet again in an hour. She desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes, and he claimed to need one too. Lorelei thought he was exaggerating his own discomfort so that she’d feel less awkward, but so long as he showed up again, she didn’t care.

Dinner was at a trendy bistro, not far from the heart of Cairo. Either Gill had a standing reservation, or his name and money got them in the door, bypassing the line of diners awaiting a table. It was nice to have some clout. She’d never been to the place before, simply because it didn’t fit her budget or her sense of time—she didn’t like to waste it standing in line, if she could avoid it.

The vessel was stashed in her purse. She wasn’t about to leave it behind anywhere. It was unorthodox to remove it from the site, but Lorelei just couldn’t make herself leave it behind for any scavenger to steal.

They settled at the white-linen-draped table and ordered their food. Lorelei felt a bit tongue-tied, faced with the amazing Gill Quinn, and at first, she stuttered her responses to his questions. They chatted about how they’d come to love archaeology and the quest for rare objects.

“So, are you going to give the vessel to the Egyptians?” he asked with a smirk. They both knew she was. Lorelei was not the kind of person to steal something so valuable.

“Of course. And I’ll write quite a paper on it. I only wish I’d found it myself. As it is, I really don’t know what led you to that particular spot in the tomb. I thought I’d looked there already.”

He shrugged. Lorelei got a feeling of secretiveness from him, a sudden unwillingness to share information. It disturbed her.

“What do you know, that I don’t know, Gill?”

“Nothing. You probably were focused on finding something else, and overlooked the jar.”

“Maybe. But you knew exactly where to find it. How did you do it?”

“I don’t know. I kind of have a sixth sense, I guess. I picture an object—in this case, I suspected there was a matching jar to the one in the Cairo museum—and then I have a mental picture of where to find it.”


A small frown formed between his brows. “It’s not something I describe in white papers or answer interview questions about.”

Lorelei rested her back against the back of her chair. “Then why tell me?”

“You seem sincere, and, who’s going to believe you if you pass on the information?”

Who indeed? She wasn’t going to write a tell-all article about her dinner with Gill Quinn. That would be tacky and her mama had taught her better. There was little she could say in response to his question, so she finished her wine and watched him over the rim of her glass. His face had cleared of its frown and he picked up his beer and took a sip. As he put the glass down, his eyes locked on hers and he gave her a smile that said he was interested in more than dinner conversation.

The question was, was she interested in more as well? She felt her cheeks heat even as her middle got hot.

“You know you want to,” he surprised her by saying, a smile turning up his lips.

How did he know that? That rumor that he was prescient came back, but maybe she was just showing herself somehow.

“I don’t know that at all,” she lied.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and his smile got wider. When his eyes opened, they looked straight at hers. “I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”

Butterflies skittered through her, and her core burned. Her interest was clear, and she stopped trying to deny it. “I guess I will,” she whispered.

“That a yes?”

She nodded, feeling the stain of embarrassment move over her face and neck.

“Come on. My place is in the Heliopolis district.”

Second thoughts? Where were her second thoughts? Why was she so sure this was right? But she was, so she took his hand and they went to his mansion in the affluent neighborhood. She’d never been in this part of town before, and she drank it all in, soaking up the luxury as though it was a dream she’d awaken from at any moment.

It was not a dream. It was all too real, and minutes later she lay naked in his arms. They made love rapidly, coupling breathlessly. She’d never felt such urgency before. A little while later, they did it again, far more slowly, but it was every bit as fulfilling.

“I have to back to my place,” Lorelei told him a few hours later. I need to get some sleep before I get back to the dig. There will be a huge hoopla over the find.”

She felt him nod, as a movement under where she rested her head on his chest.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

“No, I’ll take you.”

There was an awkward moment, but Lorelei tried to make it funny. “Well, I sure can’t walk. Not in those heels!”

His chest rumbled with a laugh, and she parted from him. As she dressed, he did too, but she felt his eyes on her. She wondered if this one encounter would—could—lead to more. But it was best if she made no plans. This was Gill Quinn and he could have his pick of women.

They drove to her place in silence. Lorelei was sure it was over, and that hurt. But, she also knew that what her mama had told her was true: why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free? She’d already given him any advantage she might have when she spent the night with him.

Her tiny suite was dusty and lonely when she got inside. Gill had declined her offer to come in. Saying goodbye, knowing it was final, was painful, but his smile was gentle. This situation was clear, why belabor it or go with an undignified snit?

The day, however, had not been a disaster, far from it. She had the vessel in her purse and the memory of a few hours with a wonderful man. After she dressed for bed, she wanted to take one more look at the vessel, just to reassure herself that it was all true.

She opened her purse and looked inside. The vessel lay there, shiny and beautiful, but next to it was an ancient golden comb and a pair of hand-wrought golden earrings that had clearly been part of the bounty of her dig. Astounded, she touched the objects reverently. Where had they come from? How had they gotten into her bag? They were going to make her career!

Next to them, was a folded slip of paper bearing a few letters and numbers. It said, “Call me. –G-” and his phone number.

Lorelei sat down fast. The man was magical. Her life had taken on a lustre she could never have imagined the day before. The vessel was only the beginning.

The End

There will be more in this series of short stories, though Gill and Lorelei’s story is over. I’ll consult the next prompt and see what I can come up with. Thank you for coming by!

short stories in five minutes