Dragonbride by Ranni York-a guest post

(The Dragon Chronicles, Book #1)

Shalima, “Daughter of the Light”, was born under special circumstances. She was raised by her aunts instead of her mother because she needed to be prepared to fulfill the prophecies of the Old Scriptures, which told that she was the only Magician on Earth.

Her aunts carefully prepared her for her obligations and her sacred duty. She will have to get married to the Holy Golden Dragon, the King of the Dragons, a huge Earth Dragon with magical talents. She cannot believe that she is the “Chosen One”, who has to protect the Dragon Species, all of Nature and finally the Earth. But when she turned into a teenager it seemed that the Old Scriptures were right.

Buy the Book:

on Smashwords: https://smashwords.com/books/view/479647

As an Ebook for following formats: epub, mobi, pd,f rtf, lrf ,pdb, txt, html

The Paperback version on Amazon will be released very soon! More buyer’s links will be available within the next week.

Author Bio

Ranni York

Raani York has been a high volume writer for years. She has published articles, letters, short stories, poems, continuation stories and descriptions of all kind. She also writes novels, some of which can found on her website.

Raani has been educated in Switzerland and in the U.S. She holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration. She also obtained diplomas in Graphic Design, Color Studies and won a prize as a Logo Designer. She speaks four languages and several dialects.

Raani York works and lives in Switzerland and the U.S. and travels often.

Next to her writing and her cats, Raani likes reading, blogging, Martial Arts, skiing, horseback riding, sky diving and enjoys playing the classical piano.


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The mountains possessed a dark but seductive beauty, and they lay in wait for the ones who came through the Fire Hell. The powdered white peaks of the sparkling black mountain-world watched for them with longing.

The Diamond Mountains gave the illusion of being much closer than they really were, and many a pilgrim had been lured to his death by the promise of riches hidden on their slopes. These mountains were so named because of the rough gems strewn about the black volcanic soil. When the sun shone overhead the gems made the mountains sparkle and shimmer brightly, and at night they made the moonlit mountains glow with a soft silver light.

People, blinded by both their greed and the tantalizing glittering of the sunlit earth, imagined that there was immeasurable wealth lying there on the ground, just waiting to be picked. However, the mountains never betrayed the secrets they held. None who had ever walked those slopes could find the diamonds hidden within the black soil, for the mountains protected themselves.

Although healthy forest still grew in the foothills, the undergrowth became sparser just a few hundred feet up, and then the treeline ended. Where stunted trees would normally grow the forest just stopped, as if some unseen hand had cut it short. All that remained were dangerously sharp, dry rocks. Just below the snowline, the rocks disappeared, and the glittering black soil took their place.

Moreover, at the summit it seemed as if the Creator of All Things had dusted the peaks of the fissured mountain range with powdered sugar, for they were covered with a deceptively soft-looking, yet extremely sharp-edged eternal snow.

The mountains never betrayed their secrets…
And if a wanderer were to climb those peaks, going up to the Fire Hell and searching to quench his thirst at a splashing mountain spring, he would find no cool, refreshing water. Instead, these living mountains would seek to frighten him by shrouding the ground with a mysterious fog that made it impossible to see where he was putting his feet. Pilgrims sometimes drowned in the sulfurous pools of water hidden within the hellish rocks when the fog appeared, and if they left the main trails, they would know true fear, for they would be led down treacherous sidepaths that seemed to take them somewhere, yet actually led them nowhere but to their doom.

The mountains never betrayed their secrets…
Though many thought they would find the cool relief of the shadows by early evening, the ascent would continue for another three torturous days. During those three days, their throats would scream for water, and their eyes would tear up in the swirling sand. Blown up by the hot desert winds, the sand burned as it fell upon a traveler’s face and skin. Eventually their limbs would become heavy, and they would barely be able to move; thus, the wanderers would be forced to crawl on, farther and farther, until sheer luck eventually brought them to civilization… to people.
In a canyon between two hills below the mountain range there was a village. It had no official name, but the people living there called it Alpcateçu, which meant Oasis of the Mountains. Anyone who wanted to climb the mountains had to pass through the village. A few taverns and inns surrounded the village fountain, where a market was sometimes held.
Some houses and huts had been built in the wide hills and even at the edge of the forest… and in one such place, hidden within the woods, almost four hundred feet past the deepest thicket and connected to the village only by a sidepath lay the place in which I had been born.
Talk back, I’m listening so is Ranni. Be sure to follow this blog and re-blog it to your readers.

What more can you do after being President of a United Earth?

8242144309_34207b1449_bneedXAfter serving two terms as President of a united Earth called the Republic of Terra and at last ending all wars on Earth, you would think Brad would be happy retired with his many wives on his ranch living out his finals days. This was where I planned to end the “Lightning in the Tunnel” series but I wanted my characters to live on. Events transpired where he could come out of retirement and perform other adventures with his wives. Alien contact ends his peaceful life when they contacted one of his many wives. She was the Admiral in charge of the Terran space exploration fleet orbiting Saturn. Earth’s authorities were becoming increasingly paranoid after the Martian bug took many lives and was highly contagious. The wife, Cat contacted Brad instead of the authorities feeling they would shoot first and talk later. The family having the money to go into space, decided it would be best if they went into space and so Brad and his wives head into more adventures. A.G.

WordPress’s Own Welcoming Committee – HarsH ReaLiTy

I second this article on Jason.

When I started blogging I had no idea what I was doing. I roamed around WordPress marveling at all the people who seemed to have something to talk about. I knew I had words inside me that I wanted to get out – but how to start was the biggest question, followed closely by, how do I get anyone to read what I’ve written?

So I began, rather lamely I might add. A few people followed me, most of whom when I looked at their sites were simply trying to sell something.

I read up on a few hints from WordPress themselves; things like click on people’s avatars and follow them, or comment on other people’s blogs. It didn’t get me too far, but it was a start. Then one day, someone who called himself “Opinionated Man” followed me. I made one of my bolder attempts at commenting on his…

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Lightning Rages- behind the scenes

10215582593_2b638a69e4A few months ago, I posted the cover of  Lightning Rages for the world to see while it is being edited. It is still in editing and may make it out before Christmas. This was suppose to be the final book of the Lightning in the Tunnel series even though I created two spin offs, Jody’s Dilemma”  and “Cat’s Cry”. The series was supposed to end but an idea for one more popped into my head so the story will continue. The book right now is called “The Zuumarans” . I should have it finished sometime in 2015 but I’m not sure with two other books I am working on. I just couldn’t let the series go even with the spin offs even though my wife wanted me to end the series saying it was too long. Right now, I’m am currently rewriting the first book of the series called “Lightning in the Tunnel Begins”  I know most people say that you should not rewrite your books over and over after they are published but I feel I can make it even better. A lot of writers are embarrassed when they go back and reread their first book since most writers get better in time after a few books. Since only a few writers come out with perfect books their first time out of the gate, I feel it is necessary.. I have fifteen books published and feel it was not until the fifth book did I start to get it right, not perfect, but better. I don’t feel I will ever write the perfect book but I want each one to be the best it can be.

I am currently still working on “IronHeart” and my first western type book called “Saddle Spur”. IronHeart is fiction literature set in the present day. It might take me over a year to write this book since it is the first time I have written a story in the first person instead of the third person.

How is your day going, I am fighting an infection in my leg and being a diabetic, it doesn’t want to heal. Today was the first day when it looked like it was starting to close and heal up.

Talk back, I’m listening and you can follow this blog or rebog it to your followers, that will make my day! LOL

Spotlighting the Shadow blog tour- guest post

Shadow of the Drill by Rhani D'Chae 1

Hello, and welcome to the ‘SPOTLIGHTING THE SHADOW’ Blog Tour. My name is Rhani D’Chae, and I am the author of Shadow of the Drill, a revenge thriller. Shadow is my first published novel and has been on Amazon for about nine months. During that time I connected with Rave Reviews Book Club, and have been overwhelmed by the support that I, as a fledgling author, have received from them. They’re an awesome group of people and I’m so glad that I connected with them.

Shadow of the Drill is the story of a man (Decker), whose life was drastically altered by a random act of violence that tore his world apart and changed him from an unproven young street tough into a man on a mission of revenge.

Book Excerpt

His gloved fingers probed the Betadine-stained area above the wound as he prepared to make another incision, but he stopped when Rudy moaned in response. “Char,” he said without looking up, “he’s too close to the top. We need to put him back down. I know the pills are gone, but is there any more booze?”

The woman clenched her hands together, unable to hide her stricken expression. “No. I gave him the last of it just before you started. There might be more somewhere, but I don’t know how much.” Her voice broke in a frustrated sob. “Or where it would be.”

Decker frowned again, thinking of and weighing the options. “Well,” he said, swallowing hard against the dread that threatened the strength and accuracy of his hands, “I guess we’ll just go ahead and finish it. Hopefully, he’ll pass out before we get too far.”

Another sentence followed, too softly for Charlene to hear. “What did you say?”

“I said if there’s a God in Heaven, he will.”

The bloodstained gloves hit the floor, and Decker’s hands cupped Rudy’s face, one finger tracing the clenched jaw with a lover’s smooth touch. His lips tightened at the thought of what his friend would still have to suffer at his hands, but then he straightened, all emotion locked safely away until the job was done. “Ready?” The sound of fresh gloves snapping around his wrists accented the word.

Charlene caught her breath, but managed to keep her voice from shaking too badly. “As ready as I’m gonna be.” She pressed her palms against Rudy’s shoulders, leaning her weight forward while bracing her feet against the base of the wall behind her.

“Are you sure?” Decker’s voice was steady, almost as if his fright had never been. She bobbed her head in reply, and he poised his hands over Rudy’s abdomen. “Okay then,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Rudy’s face. “Here we go.”

The scalpel slid into the skin, forcing a throaty groan from Rudy’s lips. Blood flowed, causing Charlene’s heart to skip a beat.

   There’s so much!

Rudy’s legs thrashed while Charlene fought to hold his upper body against the table and she dug the heels of her palms into the front of his shoulders. “I can’t hold him,” she cried, struggling against Rudy’s greater strength. “Deck, I’m losing him!”

“I’m almost there,” he replied as the scalpel went deeper. “Just a little more, and I’ll have it!”

He tossed the blood-covered instrument onto the tray before picking up the forceps. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than to Charlene. “Okay, steady now. Easy . . . easy . . .”

Rudy cried out when Decker reached in for the elusive piece of metal. His head rolled from side to side while his hands flailed, even though Decker tried to hold the closest one against the edge of the table with his body. His expressive brown eyes were wide and pain-crazed, but beneath the pain was something else. Something that, to their dismay, both Charlene and Decker recognized.


Rudy should have been beyond all feeling, but instead he remained awake. Awake and aware.


Thank you all so much for allowing me to share a bit of my journey with you today.  To follow the rest of my tour, please visit4WillsPublishing.  A.G., you were a great host and thank you so much for having me!


RHANI D. CHAE has always been an avid reader.  She enjoys chatting with readers and fellow writers via social networking sites and loves getting comments and other input from those who have read her work.  So, please don’t leave without sharing your comments.


“SHADOW OF THE DRILL” by Rhani D. Chae  http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Drill-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00GBHQZZU/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1411086503&sr=1-1&keywords=shadow+of+the+drill


Twitter:  @rhanidchae

Facebook:  www.facebook.com/rhani.dchae

Google +:  http://google.com/+RhaniDChae

Website:  www.rhanidchae.com 

Review of Shadow of the Drill at NONNIE’S “RAVE” REVIEWS

Rhani’s Author Page at 4WillsPublishing

***This tour was sponsored by 4WillsPublishing.wordpress.com  To book your own tour, please contact us.***

Talk to Rhani, she is listening!Shadow of the Drill by Rhani D'Chae 1

My review of the Opinionnatedman

DSC_0057 The opinionatedman, who’s real name is Jason Cushman and his blog HarshReality caught my interest seeing his constant blogging after I started to follow his blog. I think I have been following him just over a year. Most of the time I never read his complete blog, just his headlines. That is enough for me to draw a picture of him by the comments he makes and the responses to his posts. Jason is like a great chef, he likes to mix up just the right ingredients to give it a flavor, only he uses words to cook with. He likes to say things that brings the pot to a boil and just before it boils over, he turns down the heat and let’s it simmer. Of course there are times that his words boil over and people get upset. Other times, just when you think it is going to simmer, he turns up the heat to get the words boiling again. In other words, he is like the rail road engineer on a steam locomotive that has to blow the whistle to let off a little steam. He does host other bloggers, especially authors and give them a chance to promote their products to his followers.  He also helps out others with information to improve their blogging, a sort of how to help. After all, he is an excellent blogger. He gets everyone’s attention, good or bad. That’s what bloggers do and he does it well. Looking at his blog site, I saw he has made it easy for someone to view one of his past blogs. In the left column is his bio followed by blogging articles, including power blogging and the list goes on with guest blogger posts. In the center is most recent blog or the blog I happened to see when I Google his name. On the right side is his links to follow him and his most popular blogs list. Over all, it is not cluttered and since he is not selling anything, he has no place to buy something. His stated goal is:

My goal with this blog is to offend everyone in the world at least once with my words… so no one has a reason to have a heightened sense of themselves. We are all ignorant, we are all found wanting, we are all bad people sometimes.

 I found he has reached his goal and strives to expand his list of those he offended in some manner. Like him or hate him, he does get your attention. I found a lot of those that un-follow him come back later just to see what he is saying now, or who he is battling with.

Just so you know, Jason had nothing to do with this wording or blog, I was going to post something on his blog as a guest but decided not to at this time.

Talk back, I’m listening and you can follow this blog.

Today, we would be considered terrorist- my hellion years #4

1962-my Hellion years #4- We were not real terrorist


 If you been following this story do not be shocked by this post!!! Today we would be called terrorists and locked up for many years, or at least until we were eighteen. Anyway, getting on with the story, my brother Robert and I were in charge of the three younger children, (Mary, Carl and Barbara-oldest to the youngest). After our escapade with tying Carl to the wagon wheel and being punished by Mom, we were good for about a week. Especially since Mom didn’t punish us for cutting down the support beam. 

But then our restlessness of being good got the better of us. We went to the wagon and found someone disassembled it so we couldn’t use it. That didn’t deter us, we took the front part missing the wagon tongue and gave the younger ones rides up and down the hill, using the front wheels and axle like a rickshaw. This became boring to myself and Robert, so we took a wooden fence post and attached it in the area where the wagon tongue used to be. When we did that, it looked like an old fashioned cannon, so we started playing war with it. We even wanted to paint it black so it would look like a cannon. The end of the fence post was very pointed. That gave us an idea of placing a tin can on the end with a firecracker in it and lighting the fuse. Success! The tin can flew about five feet. Next we came up with the idea of using more than one firecracker. It had limited success, going about the same distance because the second firecracker exploded after the first one sent the can into flight. What we decided was, it needed more elevation. We made ramps and placed it on the roof of our house. Next we took apart several firecrackers and made one bigger one. Again, Success! With the increased elevation and gunpowder the can soared up in the air landing on the other side of highway that ran in front of our house. On the other side of the road was the local airport. Call it bad timing or just our luck, the air force was using the airport for pilot training, doing touch and go to teach the new pilots how to fly their craft. The airport runway was not long enough for them to actually land, but they would touch down briefly and take off again. Leaving the runaway, they would make a steep turn and come back around to try it again. They were just a little higher than telephone poles, even though there were none near the airport. When one jet came around, we had just fired our make believe cannon right into the flight path of that particular jet. Can you imagine our excitement of actually hitting something with our toy? A tin can hitting a jet makes a lot of noise but does no damage that we were aware of. Anyway, the jets aborted their training and flew off going back to their base. We panicked, because this time we knew we were in deep trouble. We quickly removed the homemade cannon from the roof, returning the wagon parts back to where we got them from. We hoped no one saw us, but we knew we had been in full view of the neighbors. At that time no one really heard of a terrorists, but we knew we were in trouble. Like normal, we walked the mile and half to town and delivered our newspapers. We told the younger ones not to say a thing to anyone about what we did. 

Needless to say after we came home from delivering newspapers, we were scared as hell Mom would find out, or the MP’s would be there at our house. When we entered the house, Mom could tell we did something wrong and quizzed us, but we weren’t telling. Mom surprised us by telling us that she didn’t have to go into work that night. Maybe, one of the neighbors told on us, we were too scared to ask why. After eating, we were just cleaning up when an air force vehicle pulled in front of our house. Mom gave us one of those, “Now, what have you guys done?” looks and walked out to meet the Air Force Colonel that disembarked from the passenger’s seat. We went and hid in our beds waiting to receive our mother’s wrath after she learned what we did. They talked for about fifteen minutes then the Colonel returned to his car and Mom came into the house. Mom came in, sitting down at the table and started crying. When she didn’t call us in or threaten to punish us, I left the bed and went standing close to her. She was crying like I hadn’t seen her cry since the death of my father. Finally she spoke through her tears, “You two are going to be the death of me yet!” I was stunned and sad seeing her cry. Right then, I resolved not to do anymore stupid childish stunts and placed my arms around her shoulders. Mom and I became very close after that, more friends than son and mother. I became the one she could count on to keep the house running while she was gone. We stayed on our best behavior waiting to see what or how she was going to punish us for what we did. Looking back, I think us being on our best behavior was punishment enough for her as she saw it. That is why we were not punished, the thought of it hanging over our heads was enough. Fortunately, school started a week later and we didn’t have any time to get into mischief with school, paper routes and the onslaught of colder weather. 

Mom got smart the next year, she found me and Robert jobs, leaving my sister Mary to watch over the younger ones during the summer. That is why unsupervised children need activities to engage in to keep from getting bored. Now days, they have TV, video games and other things to get engaged in, we had none of that. Just ourselves to use our imaginations to create excitement. 

Have a great day and talk back, I’m listening as always.