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.
CHAPTER TWO
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!!
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 www.romanticadventures.net 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.
Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
Comments
Post a Comment