Ruler's Desire
(Fuel to the Fire: book 2) Davran returns to her place of birth in this sequel to 'Fuel to the Fire' to find her father leading the beginnings of a revolution. She is determined to join the attempt to overthrow the tyrannical ruler Saurian, even if it means dying for the cause. First they must recruit more people; convince them that dying while fighting for life is not suicide. But after spending her entire fifteen years disguised as a boy, she is even more determined to do so as a woman. Prophesy, it seems, has given her little choice in the matter. Available as both paperback and ebook. |
Opening of Ruler's Desire
Basalt tumbled like a leaf. Davran screamed, but heard no sound. Lightning lashed around the dragon’s flesh. This was a place of contradiction, where everything and yet nothing existed. The void, that chaotic chasm of the boundary, was a place where seconds became millennia and millennia became seconds. Distance was immaterial; time was of no consequence.
In a sudden painful rush, all at once as alien as breathing dirt, a tremendous noise roared through their ears. Amongst it came Ronyn’s shouts of hold on, Davran’s shrieks of fright, Khalil’s expletive cries, and a rumbling tumult: a sound of boulders smashing, of sea crashing, of thunder rumbling, of travelling through an increasingly thickening atmosphere at too fast a velocity.
“We need to slow down,” shouted Khalil, noticing the smouldering edge of Basalt’s wings. The cocoon of protection that had shrouded them from harm in the void no longer seemed to be protecting the dragon.
Basalt tumbled like a leaf. Davran screamed, but heard no sound. Lightning lashed around the dragon’s flesh. This was a place of contradiction, where everything and yet nothing existed. The void, that chaotic chasm of the boundary, was a place where seconds became millennia and millennia became seconds. Distance was immaterial; time was of no consequence.
In a sudden painful rush, all at once as alien as breathing dirt, a tremendous noise roared through their ears. Amongst it came Ronyn’s shouts of hold on, Davran’s shrieks of fright, Khalil’s expletive cries, and a rumbling tumult: a sound of boulders smashing, of sea crashing, of thunder rumbling, of travelling through an increasingly thickening atmosphere at too fast a velocity.
“We need to slow down,” shouted Khalil, noticing the smouldering edge of Basalt’s wings. The cocoon of protection that had shrouded them from harm in the void no longer seemed to be protecting the dragon.
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