Showing posts with label knights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knights. Show all posts

Saturday, October 5, 2013

At Arms: A vampire short story collection

Out right now!


Five tales of a high-born family and their retainers struggling against the curse of vampirism.

The Dark Wanderer - Two knights escort a young woman through a forest infested with wild beasts.

Though wild beasts will be the least of their worries.

Damnation - Lady Christine D'Ang goes against her father wishes and leaves the castle in search of a young man she fallen smitten for.

Accosted by a knight she flees and by chance meets an eccentric stranger.

Outcast - Lady Lyna D'Ang lives a sheltered and privileged life at castle Perring along with her siblings. This quickly ends when darkness descends upon the castle.

Ambos Thorne - Ambos Thorne, a renowned warrior, is faced with superstitious beliefs and orders that make little sense to him. He arrives at a cross road where he has to make a choice.

James Farmer - Tired and desperate, James, a farmhand, is chasing a heavily armed group transporting a woman.

Bonus Story: Death's Given Chance - A man on his way to a funeral battles with his own dark
thoughts about life being worth living.

A chance meeting will change his life forever.

A collection of short stories of 31000 words or approx. 124 print pages altogether, set in the Man-at-Arms and Maiden-at-Arms universe.


Available at:
GooglePlay
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo


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Thursday, July 25, 2013

Preview: Outcast (Maiden-At-Arms #1)




MAIDEN-AT-ARMS

OUTCAST

BY A.ROSARIA


This e-book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer‘s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.


OUTCAST

Lyna‘s eyes fluttered open to what seemed to be the ceiling. She couldn‘t distinguish the lush design and artisan workmanship she so liked to wake up to any other day. With her vision blurred, she saw only smudges, dark smudges on the otherwise meticulously white ceiling. It didn‘t help that the only light came from a torch casting the room in a yellowish tint, with shades dancing over the walls with every breeze passing through the torch‘s flame. She must still be in bed, woken from the bad nightmare she had. She couldn‘t remember what it was; only that it had frightened her. She still felt clammy from the sweat and a certain numbness she ascribed to suddenly waking up.

She blinked to clear her vision. Lightheadedness befell her. Lyna squinted. A burning feeling started at her left cheek, a light throbbing pain. She brought her fingers to her cheek, lightly touching the skin with the tip of her fingers. Wet. Had she fallen? The pain she felt throbbing at her cheek increased, and she could now feel the hard stone beneath her. She lay on the ground, not the soft cushion of her bed.

Something dripped on her forehead. Cold. It was very unlikely water leaking from the ceiling–above was no roof just another of the many rooms in the castle. She opened her eyes; the ceiling swam above her. Lyna pulled up and immediately slammed back down, crying out in pain. She gritted her teeth and brought a trembling hand back to her cheek; this time she cupped it with the palm of her hand. Her cheek throbbed. She cried out and saw white for a moment. Her skin felt raw, torn, and each touch, no matter how light, was painful. Having had a protected life so far, she never felt this kind of pain, any pain really but for the occasional bumping of her knee.

Lyna looked up at the ceiling. The blurred smudges slowly turned into spatters of blood. The blood dripped down on her. So much blood, she thought. Claudette. Aaron. She turned her head to her right. She gasped. A pressure built in her chest that didn‘t allow her to breathe. Dazed, she stared at her little brother‘s severed head. His eyes were wide open, white with terror; any hint of life left in them was long gone. The edges around his neck were raw, torn. His head had been ripped off and not cut clean by a sword.

When Lyna finally breathed out, the air exploded out in a moan of anguish. What had happened rushed back to her in a flash. The demon had soared through the air, and with one swipe of her claws, she had severed Aaron‘s head. Claudette had charged the monster, a knife in her hand, screaming her brother‘s name. Lyna turned her head to her left. Her eldest sister lay crumbled and broken on the floor. It flashed in front of her, the demon had pierced Claudette‘s chest with her claw and tore her still-beating heart out. The demon had crushed it, the meat and blood seeping through her claw-like fingers. Next the demon had pulled the knife Claudette had managed to stab her with out of her chest. Demon blood had spurted Lyna‘s face and she couldn‘t help swallowing some.

Lyna remembered she had no time to gag or spit the blood out. The demon had bore down on her, swinging with her claws. Lyna had staggered back, but its nail had cut deep into her belly, slashing stripes of cloth and skin. Lyna had looked in disbelief at the demon. Her own sister, Christine. She had scratched Lyna‘s face. The nails had carved her cheeks open, and the force of the blow had knocked her down. Christine had stood over her, a twisted smile on her face, glaring down at Lyna.
She had kicked to get away from Christine, but all strength had left her body. Bleeding profusely, she could only watch, helplessly waiting for the last blow to end her life. It didn‘t come. Christine‘s face had fallen into a blank stare and she had started chanting instead. She had whispered words in Latin that Lyna didn‘t fully understand, but they had made her skin crawl in disgust. Just as sudden as Christine had started, she stopped. Soon after, Lyna had heard banging on the heavy oak door. Men barged in and escorted Christine out. Not one of them had noticed her bleeding on the floor or her brother and sister‘s dead and mutilated corpses. They walked inside as if Christina was the only one in the room. Lyna had called out for help, but they had ignored her as if she was long gone, dead for ages. She had screamed and kept screaming until she passed out.

It all came back to her. Now not only the pain burned, but also something else. It festered at her heart, spreading through her body and pushing back the pain. She crawled up and stood unsteady on her legs, her head dizzy. She gritted her teeth. With each awkward step she took, her body hurt. Under her breath, she swore revenge for the death of her sister and brother. With each sting of her cheek she knew more and more that life as she knew it was over. Eadric, the young knight she fancied, wouldn‘t want her now, damaged as she was. She had been doubly wronged by her sister; she had destroyed those she loved most and her future with the man she adored. At least she still had her father.

In her bloodied gown, she limped out of the room. Dirtied with blood, her long black hair fell over her shoulders. Her pale face stood ghastly out in the darkness. Her hollow eyes darted from side to side. Anyone who saw her would be alarmed, and help would come if not for that the arched hallway was dark and empty. Any sound she would normally expect was not there. She struggled through the hallway to the other side to her father‘s chambers. She didn‘t visit her father often. It was never a social call, nor would today be one. Today would be worse, much worse. She knocked. On the other side came no answer. Lyna cried out her father‘s name. She yelled for help. The tears burst out; she couldn‘t hold them back anymore. Her whole body trembled. Lyna dropped to the floor, clawing the door and hitting it with her fist. The tears kept coming.

She sat like this for a long time. No one came to help her. With some difficulty, biting the pain back, she got up. Every step she took, she felt her body drain of energy. She wanted to just collapse, to give up, and to have things be as they were. She wanted see her brother and sister‘s faces and Christine‘s. She pushed her feet to take another step until she saw light burning ahead. The wind carried many voices her way. She stood still, listening. She heard the distinct, heavy voice of her father. The weight of the black tidings she had to tell him burdened her. How was she to tell him how Christine, his own daughter, had slaughtered his other children, his favorites? By their own blood, they had died, she herself almost died. Her tears streamed. She wiped them away. With bloodshot eyes, she arrived at the arch and then continued to the castle‘s audience room.

Armored men, knights stood in front of her father, the lord of the castle, listening to the orders he barked at them. She saw that her Eadric stood among them, his chest puffed up, full of resolve. Her heart skipped a beat. She prayed to God that he would not turn his back on her, that he would help her through this ordeal. The knight he was surely would. Maybe he wouldn‘t be there in love, but as a friend instead. That was the least he would do. That thought made her feel as if a light lit within her, easing the burden of delivering the dark message she had. She walked toward her father‘s throne. The room hushed and all eyes drifted to her, most of all her father‘s. Grim faces stared at her.

Her father stretched a pointing finger at her. “Seize her.”

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Friday, July 19, 2013

Preview: Damnation (Maiden-At-Arms #2)




DAMNATION

By A.Rosaria


This e-book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.


DAMNATION

Christine sat down at her room‘s window and started combing her long sleek black hair. She had just turned sixteen last moon, but none of the many presents she got gave her what her heart most desired. Christine sighed and looked out the window. It was the only window in her room; Claudette, her eldest sister, had two in a larger room, and so did Aaron, her younger brother. Only Lyna had a smaller room than hers. Was this why she loved Lyna the most? And Lyna loved her in return? Because both of them were the least loved?

Christine shook her head while she stared thoughtful ahead. Lyna, two years her elder, understood her best of all and was the only pillar of support she had at the castle. She smiled. That was why she loved Lyna the most. The tip of her tongue burned to tell her everything, but this time she didn‘t feel comfortable doing so. She wanted first to be certain about what she felt before sharing it with her sister. In the meantime she shouldn‘t, couldn‘t, and certainly wouldn‘t tell her a thing.

The wall and the battlements stole most of her view; she could see the birds flying in the sky. The rest, hidden from view, she imagined: the trees standing tall from the ground up, rows of them, and hidden on the many branches among the millions of leaves the birds sang their songs. Farther down, beyond the trees, the fields and farms stretched out to the horizon, and beyond those, villages spread across the land, and farther yet the great cities. But most of all she thought about one particular village, the one closest to the castle, where not so long ago she saw a farmer boy whose face had stayed branded in her mind.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered, young man, with wheat-colored hair, a sincere face, and strong blue eyes. Remembering the way he walked with self-confidence made her feel warm from within, a new sensation she had not felt before, and she had seen many men walk in many ways before. However, it was the mannerism this young man had that did things to her she could not voice or dare to explain.
Christine blushed and felt warm all over. She was sure she would not survive telling about it without crumbling into a withering fool and uttering gibberish, and this all for a boy she saw once. Was this love? If it was, she wanted nothing else for the rest of her life and would wish the same love for everyone, even her father, especially her father. While combing her hair, she swooned away in thoughts of flowers, love, and everlasting summer.

***

The next day she stood in front of Lord Robert‘s door, fumbling with her fingers, unsure whether to knock or just enter the room as Aaron would. Christine knocked. Her father‘s gruff voice answered from the other side.

“Papa, it‘s me, Christine.”

“I said come in already. Don‘t make me have to repeat myself, child.”

His voice came nearer with each uttered word. He pulled the door open, towering in front of Christine‘s little frame. She straightened her back to make herself a little taller. She didn‘t reach above his shoulders, not even standing on her toes. Lyna, the tallest of her siblings, did reach above his shoulders, and she was the most like him. It was a wonder he didn‘t love her the most.

“What do you want?” he said.

Christine looked past him and saw a wine decanter on his table surrounded by scrolls.

“Out with it. I‘ve more important things to attend to.”

“I want permission to go to the village; there will be a fair soon, and I—”

“No. You are not to mingle with common folks and certainly not with peasants. You are a lady after all and never forget your standing or you‘ll bring our name down in shame.”

“Please, send me with an escort if need be. I will not talk to anybody.”

Lord Robert sneered at her. “You thought I would allow you to go alone? Has sense left you? Escorted or not I will not allow you to go. Go back to your room and do something worthy for a change.”

“Papa, please I beg you.”

His face got redder and his nose flared. “Stop calling me papa, call me by my title and name. And be gone now.”

She bit her lower lip to keep her mouth sealed and her tongue from lashing out and making her regret it later. She curtsied and said, “Sorry, my lord.”

Lord Robert slammed the door shut without a goodbye. Holding in her tears she ran for Lyna‘s room, but halfway she hesitated and turned back to her own. She threw herself on her bed and cried. For a long while she stayed with her face buried in her cushions, soaking them with her tears, and then with a start she sat up at the sound of nearing footsteps. From the hallway someone approached her door. She jumped up, ran to the wooden bathing tub, wet her face, and washed the tears away. She quickly dried her face and straightened her dress. It was probably Lyna wondering where she‘d been. She smiled the warmest smile she could muster and waited for the knock to come, but instead the door was pushed open. Her smile faltered. In came barging the young knight, Eadric, Lyna‘s suitor.
He was tall, normal build, with shoulder-length blond hair and a strong jaw, which was the only redeeming quality to his plain face. He had a cruel smile planted on his lips, one he always hid from Lyna but liked to show to those he thought didn‘t matter. What does Lyna see in him? she thought. Lyna deserved a just man, a man that could call himself a hero, and not this two-faced excuse of a man standing in front of her. Inadvertently she pictured the young farmer, a man chiseled for greatness but marred by birth. She thought how he carried himself with an air of virtue despite his low station in life. Christine couldn‘t help to smile while thinking about the farmhand who she wished was a knight instead of a farmer.

“You seem happier than usual,” Eadric said. “Must be my sudden presence that has lightened your heart.”

He walked up to her and got a little too close; she backed away from him while her smile faltered.

“What‘s the meaning of this? My father, your lord, will not approve of you coming into my room uninvited. Please leave right now.”

He flashed his cruel smile and backed away from her while raising his palms toward her. “Ease down. I‘m just looking for Lyna, your dear sister and my dearest beloved.”

“I haven‘t seen her this morning. Maybe she‘s in her room. Now go before I tell Lord Robert about this.”

Eadric laughed. “Go ahead, go tell him. It‘s not like he cares for you or Lyna. She told me so herself, and I noticed he loves his knights better than the both of you.”

Eadric briskly turned around and left the room, leaving her shaking behind. She ran after him and on her way she grabbed a bowl with dirty water. The water sloshed out as she ran, making her gown wet, but she didn‘t care. Christine saw him walking away, leisurely whistling a tune, his back turned to her.

“Son of a whore,” she yelled.

The moment he turned around, and she saw his angry face, she threw the bowl at him. It flew through the air, spilling a water trail behind it, and hit him square on his forehead, spilling the remaining water over his face and down his armor. Eadric furiously spat water. She laughed, taunting him. He chased after her, one hand on the pommel of his sword. Laughing, she ran back inside her room, closed, and bolted the door behind her. Eadric thrashed against the thick oak door and started kicking it, but it didn‘t give way.

“I‘ll get you for this, you little...”

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