Claimed By Honor

by Justin Sloan

  Hell yes I am!

  So next comes more books, and then more. That’s our promise.

  But we have other books as well, ones that I hope you will check out and enjoy. While I work on book three in this series, you might be interested in reading a super-hero supernatural thriller I wrote called Hounds of God. It is a story about a woman dealing with the werewolf within – she wants to find a cure, but discovers her destiny is to pair up with a vampire and another werewolf to hunt evil werewolves, and more.

  Sound fun?

  How about a story where a man transforms into a dragon whenever the voices in his head take over? Basically, my book Tears of Devotion is a dragon shifter book, with a similar phoenix situation. That one, by the way, is the third in my fantasy trilogy (it’s a bit dark, so please be aware.)

  Anyway, I could keep going. I’m going to dedicate myself to you all and to the amazing Michael Anderle, but hope you’ll have a chance to read my other books along the way. Let’s get to know each other. Head on over to the Reclaiming Honor Facebook page, and tell me what’s going on. What are you reading and why? Who are some of your other favorite authors? What about video games or movies? I want to hear all of this! By the way, I also write video games and screenplays, so we can connect on those levels if you’re interested.

  Again, thank you so much for reading Claimed by Honor, and stay tuned for book 3…

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Written January 12th, 2017

  Thank you, I cannot express my appreciation enough that not only did you pick up the (whipping out the trusty calculator (fingers)) 20 somethingeth (ran out of toes, too) book, but you read it all the way to the end, and NOW, you're reading this Author Notes as well.

  Now, we are about one month and four or so days from dropping the first book in this series, and I want to speak to the fans…

  You know, you!

  Due to your willingness to try out a new author, and engagement with said author you have changed his life for the better.

  How? Because what happened to ‘all those other successful writers’ happened to him.

  It’s one thing to know what should happen; it is entirely another to experience it for oneself. Because you gave Justin a chance (and myself, for allowing me the opportunity to expand the universe), Justin doesn’t have a theoretical understanding of having a bestselling, top 200 book on Amazon.

  Justin has practical knowledge of having a book in the top 200.

  Why? Because Kurtherian Gambit fans are freaking fantabulous! This brings me around to a somewhat touchy subject - which is jealousy. Who would have thought that jealous writers would be ugly and disparage other authors and the author’s readers? Well, ok, we all know if you have been reading these author notes for a while this isn’t new for me.

  But apparently, it’s now even more true for you as well. It seems that one of the Kurtherian Gambit fans is a member of a Facebook Group that has a fair amount of authors. (I think she intends to publish, but I don’t want to speak for her.)

  She, or someone else, mentioned my name and then the harsh, critical comments flew. The one she took exception to, more than others (and rightly so) was that my fans must somehow be less intelligent because “no one can put out a good book in a month.”

  Sigh, are we on THAT judgemental discussion thread again? But this time, instead of me not putting out good books, it’s the fan’s problem for not knowing the difference?

  Isn’t that…Oh, I don’t know… so 2016?

  Well, I have two (and only two) comments about that. First, let me scrounge around and snag my Indie Publishing OUTLAW hat and put it firmly on my head because attacking me is one thing, attacking my fans? Well, this time I have…

  Pity.

  Is their life so full of jealousy, criticality and superior mentality that they would like to judge tens of thousands of people? Unfortunately, that isn’t the life we have all been called to lead. So, I’m going to shake my head, realize that the only punishment they need to suffer is looking in the mirror and I hope and pray that they realize they can change their fortune by starting with the man (or woman) in the mirror.

  Now, for the second part ;-)

  If they thought that 2016 was a reason to be jealous, honey (or hunk, let’s not be sexist here) they are going to rip their beautiful hair out in 2017 due to the Kurtherian Mob.

  Don’t like one guy making it? How about a DOZEN? Yeah, we are going to bring the stories the Queen Bitch herself started to the far corners of Indie Publishing.

  We are in Post-Apoc, Dystopian, YA and we are headed to UF, Magical…and, uh...PNR among others, I think. (Major blushing here cause the heat level on the PNR series is going to be a 3.5-4 on a scale of 1-5…Whoa!)

  Never feel like you need to read a collaboration!

  I’m going to keep writing Bethany Anne, John, Eric, Darryl, Scott, Gabrielle and the others. My involvement in the partnerships starts at the beginning and completes at the end. I edit every book with my name on it. I was up till 1:30 AM working on this book just two nights ago.

  Then, the Author’s Wife got up early for her job the next morning…Which sucketh for both of us, but she was a sweetheart and took out the dogs and generally allowed me to get another hours sleep.

  When the haters (who are going to hate) see the success of those who decided to join us on this excellent adventure in Indie Publishing? They are going to have a fit. Since attacking me didn’t work for them in 2016, and attacking you is the latest I’m hearing, what are they going to do next, attack the collaboration partners?

  I’m sure the co-authors will stand with me and deliver, shaking off the hater's hate.

  My attitude for those that gripe is, “you be you, let me be me.” It’s the readers that decide!

  Because, in the end, focusing on others will never help one's personal life. As a writer, I never said I was writing a literary masterpiece. I’m just trying to have fun, grow this career, help others and keep having a blast.

  Ad Aeternitatem!

  Michael

  FROM MICHAEL

  If you want more of the short story following the cover below (want Justin to flesh it out), please bug the ever loving hell out of Justin, not me. I (in fact) wasn’t going to drop this short INTO the book, but we took a vote on Facebook and overwhelmingly, it was ‘put it in, put it in!’

  Shows you what I know.

  You can email his ass at JustinSloanAuthor@Gmail.com. (He didn’t know I was going to paste his email (which I got off of your website, so no complaints!) right in the book…Bwuhahahahaha!

  THIS STORY IS NOT PART OF THE KURTHERIAN UNIVERSE, BUT RATHER A STORYLINE JUSTIN IS TESTING.

  PLEASE BE AWARE, IT IS A LITTLE DARK…IT HAS NON-TWINKLY VAMPIRES IN IT.

  The Dark Knights

  A King Arthur Vampire Short

  (Not a Kurtherian Gambit Universe story)

  Arthur hid in the shadows of moonlight watching Lady Guinevere pass with her chambermaids, his yearning greater than it ever was around other humans. This woman was different—the sway of her dress as she stepped delicately across the earth, almost floating, and the way her eyes took in the world with an excited innocence. The sight of her caused his long, sharp teeth to protrude in spite of himself. More than anything, he wanted to taste her blood.

  But no, there was one thing he wanted more—to see that she was never harmed.

  For him to be the one that brought her said harm, to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck and drain her blood, tasting its sweet iron as it replenished him… there could be no worse fate for either of them.

  That’s why, aside from public appearances with her by his side, he kept his distance.

  And he ordered his knights do the same. All worse than him, letting their cravings for human flesh get the better of them.

  Not with her, because he was their king and had ordered it so. It probably helped that she was Merlin’s niece, and if anyone harmed her, the wizard would certainl
y retire his robes for his old paladin armor and holy sword.

  Stakes through the heart were nothing compared to the spells of a paladin.

  “We’re behind schedule,” Lancelot, his most trusted Knight, hissed down from where he perched on a nearby rooftop. “If we’re discovered—”

  “Merlin’s wrath. I don’t need you to lecture me on such matters.”

  Lancelot swooped down, landing gracefully beside Arthur, his king. But the knight’s eyes spoke nothing of loyalty, at times like this, and Arthur didn’t fail to notice.

  “My scars remind me of our duty,” Lancelot said. “Perhaps you’d do well to have some of your own.”

  “Threatening your king?” Arthur scoffed, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You forget your place.”

  “Not threatening, sire,” Lancelot said with a bow of his head. “Simply, urging, us to move. Now.”

  Arthur breathed deep, letting the moment drift away and take his anger with it. Lancelot wasn’t to blame for the agitation at their lot in life—vampires by night, forced like puppets to do the will of Merlin, the great magician to the public, the corrupt and conniving paladin to those who really knew him.

  His spell held them to it—a fact that they meant to end this night.

  “Yes, let’s not be late,” Arthur said, keenly aware of the fact that Merlin’s watchful eyes were everywhere. Curse him and his magic. Any moment now the old wizard would notice the larger than normal number of vampire knights outside of his keep.

  Arthur spun, red cape flowing behind him in the cool spring breeze, and led Lancelot back to the others where they crouched in the shadows.

  “What news, sire?” Rodain asked. She stood at the front of her squad, twenty in all. A small number in the grand scheme of things, but her vampire knights were legendary for their ferocity and prowess. Of course, the fact that they were vampires was kept secret, as it was with all vampires. The lands couldn’t know that their king and his knights were creatures of the night, kept in check and allowed to walk the light of day only because of Merlin’s magic.

  “She’s out of harm’s way,” Arthur said. “We move now.”

  Another vampire scoffed. Geldring, the largest of his generals, and the most outspoken when it came to, well, everything.

  “You have a problem with my leadership?” Arthur asked.

  “My inability to understand how the starting time of the battle for our freedom should be determined by a mortal woman has nothing to do with whether or not I have issues with your leadership,” Geldring said, his voice snapping like branches in the wind. After a moment’s silence, he added, “Means no, sire. I serve at your will.”

  Arthur would have to watch this one. Considering the insubordination Lancelot had just shown him, and the look in Rodain’s and several other of his top generals’ eyes, he’d better make this happen quickly.

  “My knights of the roundtable,” he said, addressing the generals and the rest as he added, “My guardians of the night, our time is at hand. For too long we’ve been cast aside as if we were no better than the cursed monsters that share similar characteristics but who are pure evil. We fight Morgana and her shifters, losing our lives, but for what? Because this magician, this corrupt paladin, tells us it’s that or be cast out from his spell to never again see the light of day.

  “I say to you that I’d rather have the freedom of life by night than slavery at all times of day and night. So tonight we fight, and we destroy the man who holds us all in his grasp. Attack!”

  The vampires ran past him, surging forward like bats out of hell. Some leaped on hands and feet like the beasts those lower vampires often were, others ran in their charge, while the few more powerful ones flew forward in bursts of darkness. The flapping of bat wings and growling of blood-thirsty vampires filled the night.

  Arthur turned, pulled down his king’s helm, and joined the charge. Only, instead of running, he walked, confidently, with the air of a returning champion here to claim his rightful place.

  Each step clanged out in the night, as did that of his three most powerful generals, who walked at his side—Lancelot, Geldring, and Rodain. It wasn’t that he trusted them above the rest, it was that if he were to be attacked with them at his side, there wasn’t a force he knew of that could stop them.

  Although, he had never attempted to take down Merlin.

  Screams filled the night, and Arthur thought they were coming from the soldiers he saw being thrown from the battlements as vampire knights overtook them.

  Then the screams turned higher in pitch, too high for any human voice, and he saw the light piercing a whole section of his army. Rays of sunlight were streaming from the fortress windows, knocking back any vampire that attempted to enter.

  “Send in the sewer rats,” Arthur commanded Geldring, who nodded, and then veered off to give the signal.

  “He knew we were coming,” Lancelot said.

  “There’s rarely anything he doesn’t know,” Arthur replied.

  “And yet you lead us to the slaughter?” Rodain asked. “Those are our soldiers dying up there.”

  A rage swirled in Arthur and he wanted to throttle Rodain for her insubordination, but he knew she was right. Instead, he’d use that anger against Merlin.

  He charged, certain his knights would follow close behind. While he’d sent the mass of the army for the main assault, some above, some below, he would make a different approach and end the source of their problems by his own hand.

  Their path took them through the secret entrance Guinevere often used to leave the castle. She didn’t think anyone else knew about it, but his obsession with her meant he noticed things such as how she exited the castle. He had to ensure her safety, and he couldn’t very well do that with her disappearing on him.

  As he’d hoped, she’d taken her guards with her, so the way was clear. The darkness didn’t bother them, as their vampire eyes could see better in the dark than in the light. Yet, when they’d come out into Guinevere’s chambers, Rodain somehow managed to knock over the mirror, so that it shattered with a crash that echoed through the castle.

  “Clearly the meaning of a sneak attack is lost on you,” Lancelot said, spittle flying at her.

  “Yelling won’t help your case,” a voice said, and all of them froze as mist filled the room. A flash of light caused them all to pull back, and when their vision cleared, Merlin stood in the center of the room, his gnarled wooden staff raised in one hand, still glowing with its sky blue light, his paladin sword held at the ready in his other. “Well, here I am. Get it over with, if you dare.”

  Arthur motioned to Lancelot and Rodain to attack as they had discussed, but Rodain simply smiled and took a step back. Lancelot moved in for the attack with Arthur, but a blast from Merlin’s staff and a slash of his sword sent Lancelot back, clutching at his burnt face, and gave Arthur a steaming cut across his sword arm.

  “Attack, damn you!” Arthur shouted to Rodain.

  She drew her sword, but stepped up to Merlin’s side.

  “Rodain isn’t as foolish as you’d think her to be,” Merlin said. He stood tall, his white cloak flapping around his white armor even though the castle walls protected them from any wind. Shouts of the ongoing battle past these walls sounded, growing closer.

  “Traitor,” Lancelot said, teeth bared. His face slowly began to heal.

  “We don’t need her,” Arthur said, holding out a hand to his knight. “Merlin, we’ve come to inform you that our slavery has come to an end. Cast down your staff and leave this kingdom, or we’ll destroy you.”

  “Is that so?” Merlin asked. “You forget, King Arthur, I created this kingdom, with you at its head. Without me, you’d be nothing but a lowly vampire, sulking in the dark corners of Morgana’s empire. Because of my help, you’ve had all the niceties a king could desire. You walk under the sun, by my magic. Would you give this all up, in the name of freedom?”

  “We won’t be your slaves,” Arthur said, his voice shaking in an
ger. “No more wars at your command. No more lives taken simply so you can grow this kingdom that you pretend I rule. I don’t know how you persuaded Rodain, but our vampires are defeating your forces as we speak. Surrender!”

  “Not all of them,” Rodain said. “In fact, my vampires will have likely taken care of a large portion of your army, by now.”

  Arthur felt his fangs biting into his lip in frustration. This was all falling apart. He saw now that there was no way about it—Merlin had to die.

  Snarling, Arthur drew his sword and moved at Merlin in a flash. But before either had a chance to strike, a yelp froze Arthur in his tracks. Instead of attacking him, Rodain had moved to the far door, where she pulled Guinevere into the room and stood with blade to neck.