The Knights of Camelot by Sarah Luddington Book Tour and Giveaway :)

Lancelot and the King
The Knights of Camelot Book 1
by Sarah Luddington
Genre: M/M Historical Fantasy Romance 

A love long-held, the love of a knight for his king, a love which must be denied.

Lancelot is banished from Camelot in disgrace, not only has he lost his honour and country, but too late he realises he has lost his love.

When duty calls him to return, Lancelot doesn’t think twice and once more puts on his armour. If his king needs him and he is called to the sword, he knows where he must be.

His country is threatened, the dark wings of war are gathering and his love... that will just have to wait.

The needs of one man’s heart cry for peace, but Lancelot understands what he must do.

He will stand shoulder to shoulder with the man he loves and if they survive the battlefields, if they can survive the peace, then maybe, just maybe, a knight and his king can put aside their call to arms and listen to the call of their hearts.

The Knights of Camelot series is a reimagining of the Arthurian legends. Each book features two (or more) men in love with one another, steamy encounters, and more. These books are not intended to be read as standalones, so be sure to start at the beginning with Lancelot and the King.


THE SOUNDS OF A scuffle drifted through muddled dreams of deep green woods and white Stags with wolves running as a pack alongside. A small voice choked back a cry and a rough one snarled an order. I found myself unencumbered by my companion who snored with soft snuffles on the edge of the bed. I rolled and came up on my feet. My head throbbed at the sudden change of direction and my stomach rolled. My mouth felt like a leper’s armpit and I decided I didn’t need to know what happened outside. A whimper and squeal had me reaching for my clothes, even as I told myself this was not my job. I opened the shutters over the window and peered out. I groaned at what I saw. The dawn just brushed the sky. I couldn’t have slept more than two hours. A boy, almost man sized stood with his face pressed into the wall of the tavern’s stable while two men held him still. One of the men fumbled at his crotch. “Shit,” I cursed and pulled on my boots. I opened the window wide, not wishing to break any of the expensive small glass panes and peered down. A wagon full of old laundry sat below me. I turned, grabbed my sword and a knife before diving out the window. I didn’t even think, just twisted in the air and landed on my back in a woof of sheets. It protested madly. I grimaced and struggled out of the suffocating fabric. I fell to the floor and then scrambled upright. I saw the glimpse of a blade at the boy’s throat and the wide eyes of panic as the man managed to freed himself so he could make use of his tiny dick. I needed to distract them. “Hey, is this a free ride or are you charging?” I asked in my friendliest tone. Both men turned to me and the knife dropped from the boy’s throat. All the invitation I needed. I wanted them done quickly and quietly before they woke the town, so I used the hilt of my sword to smash one in the face while I cut the throat of the other. Blood washed from the large gash but the man dropped without a sound. The boy twisted away, his legs tangled in his torn clothes and he dropped, huddling over himself. I took the potential rapist by the hair and ran the knife over his throat. Done in moments without a sound. My heart beat a little fast. I swallowed my need for more death, coming back from the edge of the battle frenzy, it took too long. Arthur told me I killed too easily. He said I would go too far one day and lose myself to the death call. A small sound made me rush back to the real world. The boy crouched in a heap, staring up at me in fear. He’d managed to dress. He had short scruffy warm brown hair and terrified brown eyes. He looked older than I first thought but didn’t seem to be shaving. His face was all angles and he was skinny. “You alright?” I asked. He blinked. “Yes,” he said. Although his right eye started to swell and I could see blood on his lips and down his chin. There were bruises colouring his neck and wrists. I held my hand out to help him up but he ducked away and scrambled upright alone. His eyes were averted from me and the bodies. “Thank you, sir.” “You the stable boy?” I asked. “I was.” He did look at the bodies then, his expression grim. “I guess I won’t be now, they are the sheriff’s men. I’ve been avoiding them for weeks.” His eyes filled with tears and he folded in on himself. My heart melted. “Damn it,” I murmured. I knew, whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter, when they found these bodies, which they would, they’d find the boy and he’d give them me. He was alone and scared. As a stranger in the town carrying scars on my back, evidenced my bed warmer and looking like a fighter, I’d draw all the wrong attention. “You know this place inside?” I nodded at the tavern. “Yes, sir,” he said, keeping his eyes averted. “My room is the one above the cart, go and find everything. The girl is not to be disturbed. The coin on the floor and in the bed...” I thought about it for a moment. “Find as much as you can but leave a fair share for her. Then meet me at the horse market. If you aren’t there by the time the town gates are open I’m leaving alone and you can shift for yourself. Understand?” I had no idea what the hell I thought I was doing. The last thing I needed was another problem in my life. I turned to move the bodies and I heard a sharp intake of breath. I’d forgotten about my shirt, again. “Get a fucking move on,” I snapped. The boy glanced at my face and ran to the tavern. He’d know how to enter the place without being noticed. I reached down, grabbed the ankles of one of the stinking rapist bastards and hauled him into an empty stable. His friend followed. I pulled a coat off one of the bodies, shook out the lice and hoped my wounds were still closed. I didn’t feel blood whispering down my skin so I assumed I wouldn’t pick up an infestation. My arms were too long for the coat, but it would do for the few minutes I needed to reach the horse market. With the streets still quiet in the pre dawn light, I ran to the edge of the town, just inside the walls. A small wooden house sat surrounded by horse pens and everything associated with horses. I banged on the door. “Dillon, you old horse thief, wake up,” I yelled as loudly as I dared. Muttered curses, several loud crashes later and the door opened. “What the bloody hell?” He sounded as angry as he always looked. “Dillon, I need Ash and I need a good safe gelding,” I said. “Oh and it’s great to see you.” “Lancelot?” He rubbed sleep from his one good eye and stared up at me. He smiled, the mouth full of gold. I wondered how many of those teeth I paid for over the years. “What do you want that beast for now? It’s still dark.” “It’s not dark, you just drank too much,” I told him, encouraging him out of his small house and into the yard. I knew how he felt. “Ha,” he said, “And I thought for sure you’d died this time and I’d get to sell that monster of yours.” “I gave you gold for at least a year of keep and it’s only been ten months, don’t exaggerate,” I said. Dillon the horse trader grinned. “You certain it was a year’s keep? You are in an awful hurry for a year’s keep.” He eyed my clothing. I groaned, “Fine, but the gelding better be good.” Dillon, his beady eyes shining with a new deal, stomped off on his short fat legs to find a stable boy to help with Ash. I followed him, if I left Dillon’s boy to attend the horse alone I’d be waiting another hour at least. No one should have to deal with Ash but me, so the least I could do was try to saddle the brute. Just as we reached a stable yard, I heard a scrabbling behind me. I turned with my hand already on my sword hilt. The boy from the tavern appeared with my things. “Here, sir,” he said. He’d run the entire way, and stood panting but ready with my saddlebags and bedroll in perfect order. He held with my shirt, doublet, cloak and a bag I didn’t recognise slung over the boy’s shoulder. I blinked in surprise. “That was quick.” “I am, sir.” “Can you manage a warhorse?” I asked. “Yes, sir,” he said with utter confidence, just as a yell issued from the stable and I heard Ash’s trademark neigh, or snarl, if horses could snarl. “Find that horse and saddle him,” I said, taking my belongings from the boy. His right eye had almost swollen shut but he ran for the stables. In no short order I’d bought a fine looking chestnut gelding with saddle and bridle all in. I’d also bought equipment for the road, such as cooking pots and something to put in them. The boy appeared with Ash, my horse, whom I left with Dillon every time I travelled to England for a short time. This trip had meant to be short but my arrest kept me occupied for quite a while. I hated forcing the crossing on my equestrian companion. It seemed however, that I now travelled with a boy dedicated to the dark arts of horse management. My foul tempered stallion followed the lad meek as a lamb. Dillon stared in shock, as did his stable hand. I handed the reins of the gelding to my boy and said, “This is, Mercury.” My stallion gnashed his bit in protest at the company. Ash had belonged to me for five years. I’d won him in a card game and wondered why his owner didn’t seem to mind. The colour of wood ash, with a black mane and tail, he hated everyone. I kept him because he’d given up hating me most of the time and he was the finest damn horse I’d ever ridden. He had my back in a fight and knew exactly how I would move into an enemy when we faced one together. We didn’t love each other but respect goes a long way in my game. I took my own reins and mounted before the damned stallion nipped my backside. He danced in circles and pulled on the bit. “He’s grown fat,” I said to Dillon. “He’s the devil’s own horse, that one,” said the trader, watching the boy mount. The town gates opened. I waved a farewell to Dillon and rode out of Le Havre. 

Book 1 - Lancelot and the King will be FREE June 29th - July 4th!!

Lancelot and the Sword
The Knights of Camelot Book 2

A powerful new threat looms over Camelot and the fleeting sanctuary of love is shattered. Maybe beyond repair.

Lancelot and Arthur must place their joy on hold to save the kingdom.

As chaos takes hold over the land, the time for tender passion has passed. This is the time for heroes, the time for a king and his greatest knight to make a stand and lead their country through the fires of war.

But in the midst of the battles sometimes the needs of the moment demand sacrifice and a trust is broken.

With the blood of betrayal still running, Lancelot finds himself drawn to another. Perhaps in Tancred’s tender embrace he might just find the peace he so desperately craves.

But a jealous king is a dangerous creature and the ghosts of the dead are intent on hounding a broken soul to the grave.

Lancelot and the Grail
The Knights of Camelot Book 3

A broken and shattered knight hides from the world and from the man who destroyed him. Betrayed by the man he loved, Lancelot vows that the only way he will return is to see the heart of his king staining the floors of Camelot.

Then one day, a gentler soul tracks down the tormented knight and sets to repairing a mind so damaged, there may never be a way back. When Tancred finds Lancelot, he is barely recognisable.

The revenant of a once powerful knight, with a heart which burns so intensely, it is only the pain which gives life.

But Tancred is not going to lose a soulmate he has spent a lifetime waiting to find.

Lancelot will return and his sword is thirsty for blood. The power of the Grail and the fury of Excalibur are turned on the enemies of Camelot in a race to save a kingdom and a brotherhood bound in blood.

Lancelot’s Challenge
The Knights of Camelot Book 4

With King Arthur’s blood still fresh on Lancelot’s hands, a deal is struck. A deal which will bind the knight to an evil power in return for the life of the man he loves.

Lancelot is forced to work for the fey in a bargain which is set to unleash a new terror on the lands. A force so powerful that even the gods step back to watch.

With Tancred at his side, the vengeful knight must bide his time and play the fey’s games.

Games which will cost Lancelot his soul if he cannot find a way to defeat the evil which grows. But when the final prophecy is revealed, Lancelot must challenge his fate alone.

Lancelot’s Burden
The Knights of Camelot Book 5

The gods play games, and Albion’s gods seem to enjoy the chase. When chaos descends the gentlest soul will break.

When that soul belongs to the man to whom Lancelot has given his heart, death is coming for the tormenters.

Lancelot is now the king of Albion and his sword will destroy her enemies. Even if those enemies are more powerful than anything he could have dreamed.

But first he needs to save his love. A man so destroyed that his thirst for revenge will not stop until the kingdom runs red.

Forced to make alliances with once hated enemies, the needs of war forge dangerous bedfellows.

To save a kingdom may just cost Lancelot the only thing he has left. His soul.

Lancelot’s Curse
The Knights of Camelot Book 6

With only one chance to save his lover, and his land, Lancelot must make a new deal with the gods.

They will demand everything Lancelot holds and take the last threads of hope from his heart.

The torment that the god of chaos and misery sets to work in Lancelot’s life, threatens to destroy Albion and Camelot, but the god never figured on the power of love and with Arthur’s help, there may just be a way to survive such sadness.

Lancelot must find a way to stop their destruction before Camelot, Albion and Tancred are lost forever. This time there is no hope, no battle he can win, no twist to save his cursed life.

The knight turns his eyes to the heavens and his curse follows on a swift sword.

His only hope is that the sacrifice he gives proves to be enough to save his lost love.

Betrayal of Lancelot
The Knights of Camelot Book 7

For six hundred years, Lancelot has been lost.

Lost in a world so far from Camelot that his blood stills and his soul craves nothing but oblivion. Six hundred years of fighting other men’s wars and bedding other men’s lovers. Six hundred years of death.

But Fate wants her hero back and Lancelot must give up this new world of machines and cities to return to Albion.

The gods are rising and Mordred has a new ally.

An ally more fearsome than any Lancelot has ever encountered.

With Arthur once more by his side, they face what they believe will be their final battle. An appointment with the darkest soul in Albion and his even darker god.

Passion of Lancelot
The Knights of Camelot Book 8

When the battle rests, the hearts are laid bare.

Lancelot has destroyed the person who loved him and who brought him back from the dead. Tancred lies broken and Arthur will never release his hold on Lancelot.

But wars have no time for broken hearts and the three men are all that stand between Camelot and the advancing armies in the north. Somehow they must find a way to put the pain of broken love to one side before all is lost under the gathering evil.

They must learn to trust each other once more, if only for one last time. Camelot needs its greatest knights now; there will be time enough for hearts to heal when the battle is done.

If they survive.

Revenge of Lancelot
The Knights of Camelot Book 9

When a god strips you of everything you love, what is there left to do but fight?

Lancelot, Arthur and Tancred face their god of madness and chaos in the centre of the world. Fate holds her breath as the three heroes draw on the last of their strength to bring peace to Albion.

But can a warrior ever be still? Is there a place where heroes can sleep? Or is there only death for those who made death their lives?

Lancelot knows he is facing his final battle, but it is not the battle of the sword he fears, it is the battle of the heart.

If he is victorious, he will secure peace for Albion for eternity. Yet still his heart aches.

The fiercest knight that Camelot has ever known is fearful of the fragile soul his battered body conceals.

There may be only one answer and the thought scares him more than any enemy he has ever faced.

Lancelot- The Lost Years: The Spear
The Knights of Camelot Book 10

The voices of the past are often too strong to resist. I have been away from Camelot and Albion for five long centuries. Occasionally though, a soul brushes against mine and I feel it... I feel love in all its forms regardless of the cost. No one can replace Arthur or Tancred, but there are souls in this long lonely life that make it bearable, even happy, and I live only for those candle flashes of hope.”

Lancelot is cursed to walk the world alone. His is the immortal Knight of Camelot, cast adrift after angering the god Balar. Time drifts endlessly for him until he finds a reason to live.

Lady Elizabeth Rothschild is a noble of the Great British Empire and she is going to prove that a noble woman can control just as much as a noble man. Her tool for this mission is a man called Lance Ash, a drunkard, a whoremonger, a wastrel, but someone very good at his job. He is her treasure hunter, and she wants him to find the Holy Spear which pierced the flank of the true God.

Lance Ash knows exactly how dangerous such a quest can be for all involved, but when he meets the Lady Rothschild’s half brother, Lance Ash is lost and Lancelot du Lac is reborn.

A Knights of Camelot story which takes place between Lancelot’s Curse and Betrayal of Lancelot.

Sarah Luddington is the author of historical gay romance and contemporary gay romance. She is a gay rights activist, holds three martial arts black belts, a degree in Medieval History and far too many dogs. She lives on a mountain in Spain and in her spare time writes and reads LGBT fiction.

Come and visit her website at or Facebook for more information. She always welcomes contact with her readers.
Many thanks.

Can you, for those who don't know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?

I grew up in rural Somerset in England. I now live in Spain, mostly because living in England is too expensive – and cold… You have to admit it’s cold a lot of the time. I have six dogs (all rescues), two cats and a husband. That’s not the order of importance, honest. I have three martial arts black belts and a degree in medieval history. I love stories, all stories, TV, movies, books, audio, I collect them like other people collect illnesses. On the LGBTQ+ spectrum I class myself as queer, mostly because it depends on which way the wind is blowing as to which gender I am or which gender I find attractive. It’s nicely confusing.

I became an author because when I was in my late teens and early twenties I was too poor to buy books (or food at the time) and I’d read everything I wanted to in our local library, they didn’t have a large fantasy section in those days. In an effort to write something I wanted to read, I began scribbling and never stopped. Being poor is deeply motivating when all you want to do is escape and they only place it is possible to escape to is the inside of your head. I didn’t know I was dyslexic then, so never thought to take it seriously because I was ‘thick’. Just goes to show what a little self-belief and a whole lotta – fuck ‘em – can do!

What is something unique/quirky about you?

I can use broad swords, katanas, quarterstaffs, jo, knives, escrema sticks, bows and ride horses. Don’t know much about guns…

Tell us something really interesting that's happened to you!

I’m guessing you want the legal things for this one? I was a professional dominatrix for a bit before leaving the UK – you earn more money doing that than being an author! More hitting people with things, I swapped the dojo for a dungeon. It was fun but very intense and despite my – hard NO – on sharing bodily fluids of any kind men can get very tiresome when they get pushy. A five inches heel to the throat usually dissuades them from pushing their luck.

What are some of your pet peeves?

That’s long list.
Mostly is boils down to animal cruelty, hurting small humans (I’m not great with kids but hurting them is not on my list of things to do in this world), and intolerance of colour, sexuality or creed.

If you knew you'd die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day?

Wiping out those who are intolerant… No one ever said I had to be consistent!

Who is your hero and why?

Husband – he’s awesome and a great comedy writer. He’s my best friend as well as the dogs and spends his life trying to shelter me from the real world so I can write and have fun in my worlds.

What are you passionate about these days?

Human rights and the environment. Especially LGBTQ+ rights and the very definite necessity of understanding the extremes of Islam and the rise of White Supremacists in this world. If we don’t understand them, we can’t educate them and if we don’t educate them we can’t defeat their ideology. Also my dogs. I love my dogs. They are my friends. I’m pretty passionate about beer as well.

Do you have a favorite movie?

Star Wars. Every time I hear that music it fills me with joy. Doing battle against the evil empire! Yeah!

Which of your novels can you imagine made into a movie?

I don’t think they can be – it would be very Game of Thrones if they tried. Maybe Men of Sherwood would be cool. That’s more doable.

What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?

Loads. I lived near Glastonbury and got married there, so I know Avalon really well. Lived in Wales as well and live near the places I’ve used to describe Albion in the Camelot series. For my other books – that’s what Google maps is for and a wicked imagination!

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?

My animal spirit would be a magpie. We don’t have them here in Spain, the farmers killed them all, but I miss them so much. I’m having one as my next tattoo.

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