A Rising Knight Series

Vlad didn’t ask to be born a half wizard; he didn’t ask to be knight, most dangerous of the breed; and he defiantly did ask for the war coming his way. That’s ok. Some gifts are better when they’re a surprise. These are moments that will define his destiny. He will choose a path; a name and standard. He will be born in darkness and baptized in blood. Angels will lie broken before him. It's funny, but you wouldn't think being hated and hunted could save you. It saved Vlad. Find out how by reading the ongoing A Rising Knight series. A Rising Knight Vol1: Everything that has an End, is the first volume of an anthology short story series chronicling the journey of a half wizard living in New York. This first volume covers the start of the three journeys he will take to becoming one of the most hunted wizards in history. Chronicling the first four years of Vlad’s life as a Knight wizard, this first volume will take you from the first moment he gets a taste of power, to the moment he takes up the persona that will make him a legend among his people to the moment he learns it's not enough to play the part. You have to be the real thing if you're going to do anything worthwhile. Featuring artwork by Paulo Barrios as line artist, David Delanty on colors for variant A and Michele Wilson on colors for variant B. The back matter features a galley containing sketches by the author and cover artist as well as all three variant covers. Excerpt: Thumbing the MP3 to shuffle, the Knight leapt from the girder. Around him he wove something he'd been working on. A cloak of living shadow that covered him from head to toe in swirling darkness but for a pair of glowing red eyes. In his ear The Man Comes Around4 began to play. And I heard as it were a noise of thunder. Fire bloomed all around the commander and her group. Not hot enough to burn through their shields, but enough to blind night sight and mark their position for the other groups. Before any of them could react, he was there, among them, close enough to smell the stink of sudden terror that rose off their bodies. The commander was his target. Take her out and the rest would be slow to change tactics, too slow. While she was still trying to draw her sword or fire a spell to hold him off the Knight put his hand on the small woman’s chest. A single cord of air broke past her shield and expended in her heart. It exploded. He was moving before she knew she was dead. There's a man goin' 'round takin' names. He broke right and slipped through the Hunters of the commander’s group. They were still trying to react to his attack. To his eyes they moved as if in slow motion. The other groups reacted faster. The Knight made it out of there a split second before the remaining four Hunters were torn apart by bolts of lightning, balls of fire and bars of light. The music did not cover the sound of their screams.

A Rising Knight: Volume 2 What’s the difference between a soldier and a warrior? What’s the difference between those who live in the world and those who shape it? Power. Pain. Purpose. Arrogance. Rage. Fearlessness. Determination. Welcome back to the fight, it’s missed you. A rising Knight: Volume 2, Born for War continues the ongoing story of a man who would be legend. The stage had been set. The players are on their marks. It’s show time. Marvel as Vlad marvels or the wonders of learning his craft. Rage as he rages at a world determined to wipe his people off the face of the earth. Revel as he revels in the in the pure fun that is having power and only that responsibility you choose to take on. And finally, be there to meet the men who clean up the messes and tell the lies. Born for War features amazing cover art by Paulo Barrios and David Delanty and a full galley in the back. There you can check out all the steps in the creation of this amazing cover as well as other art associated with the series. Excerpt Torrents of the Reigh roared through him as he drew in everything he could. The Knight had no idea what a Dractine was. All he knew was that with this much power, and the right spell, he could do anything. A feral grin spread across his face. Anything. The demon turned its head. Ethan was right, this shield couldn't mask his full power. No matter, the time for hide and seek was over. The Knight did two things at once. He traced a wall of compress air around himself, the street in front of the demon's building and the building itself. With that wall surrounding them they could be as loud as they liked and no one would hear a thing. The second thing he did all the air from the front of the demon's building, creating a vacuum. A big one. In an instant the entire front of the apartment blew outward showering stone, glass and mortar. A silent explosion. Instead the Knight's bones were rattled by a hollow concussion. Sound finally came when rubble and demon both crashed to the ground. Vibrations trembled through the ground so that the pole shivered under his fingers. The Knight let go and followed the wreckage to the ground. Faster than he expected the demon was up and standing on its hind hands. An axe bloomed from darkness into its raised right hand. The demon gave out a roar, like a donkey’s bray magnified a thousand times. The sound of it stabbed into the Knight’s ears as the demon charged.

Why do you fight? Why do you pay the price? Destruction’s Children brings the war home for the Knights of the revolution. Jackal is forced to relive his mother’s brutal death while Olga dreams of getting blood on her hands. Vlad reaches a pivotal point when forced to confront reality, there is always someone better. What do you do when you can’t see the way forward anymore? Make one up. Excerpt Taking a sliver more of his attention from the attacking wall of spells, Vlad split his single thick cord of earth into an eight-headed hydra of golden brown light. Single spears started thrusting up from the ground in a continuous assault, like a deadly life-sized whack-a-mole. One and all the spears stabbed straight at the blond Knight. The shifting grinding sounds of salt and silica compacting and grinding together carried a long ways on the flat ground. Besieged from all angels, every way Mikael turned another spear, or three, tried to spit him. He danced and jumped among them with exceeding grace. Not so much as brushing a spear. Glittering brown strands threaded through their pale lengths warned him. Touch one and it would explode like a fragmentation grenade. Fast enough to dodge spears was not fast enough to dodge shrapnel. Probably wouldn’t do much damage against the kinds of shields he likely had. But he didn’t dare give Vlad an opening like that. His advance was halted. One of his advances halted anyway. A sliver taken away from the wall of spells was a sliver too much. Vlad couldn't keep up with them anymore. Inch by slow inch the aurora seemed to grow larger as the first waves of destructive spells got closer. Not a minute into the fight and they were at a stalemate. Mikael was fast but the spears were quickly becoming a forest of stalagmites around him. Touching even one would set off a chain reaction that would set of the others. He could let go of the spell he’d woven to attack but that would mean giving up the initiative to go on the defensive. Vlad was worse shape. If he took concentration away from his attack to shore up his defense Mikael would start advancing again. Retreat was not an option. Unraveling that many spells at once pushed his abilities to their limit. Trying it awhile moving would have been impossible. As hard as he worked the spells were still getting closer. Worst case the blonde Knight would wait him out. Whose luck would run out first? Time drew itself into a thin brittle line as the desert sands awaited and answer with bated breath. Neither was apparently very inclined to trust in luck. Almost as one, both men decided it was time to engage Knight State. Wraith stopped unraveling spells and charged forward at an angle, meaning to cut the corner of the firing solution's first wave. Instantly the wall of spells rushed forward, enveloping the Knight in color and sound and pressure. No matter how tightly packed a firing solution, was there were always gaps in between individual spells. Pack your spells too tightly together and they could render each other useless and or, worse, rebound on you. Wraith found those gaps and moved through them with consummate grace. He put Mikael's earlier dance to shame. In the Midst of his dance he felt his spell go off, the spears had exploded. Seven seconds. That was how long it took wraith to make beyond the far edge of spell fire. Seven seconds of blinding colors, deafening sounds and crushing pressure. He survived. He was not the only one. Mikael’s remote point dissipated and Wraith felt him stop weaving whatever that big spell of his had been. At first he could see only a vague image through the haze of dissipating spell fire. But the air finally cleared enough to let him see clearly. Mikael stood untouched in the rubble of Vlad's forest of stone spears. The air around his rippled more than heat haze could have accounted for. A broad smile stretched across his face. "I suppose this means you're ready

Wriath is coming and war is coming with him. Vlad has walked three journeys on his path to becoming a Harrower, a King’s Knight. And they have all lead back to the wizard world. To the place he had been an outcast freak, a hated reminder of days gone by and terrifying signpost of things to come. Now its time for him to become something far more dangerous, a man with noting to lose. Excerpt: Now that they were in a good uproar it was time to really cut loose. Lavishly appointed by lavishly appointed corridor, Wraith made his way through the halls of castle Blackblade. Everywhere he went Council guards were waiting for him. His estimation of their skills had not been wrong. These men and women, who fought with strategy and covered each other's backs. A real military unit. Six Council guards made up the second group of them he ran into. Automatic barriers should have come up from the floor to give them cover. Taking the network down had locked in their shuttered position. But Council guards weren't so easily deterred. They had barricaded themselves behind a toppled twenty-foot tall statue of a nude man. The stone figure glimmered with hastily laid defensive spells. Spellfire rained down as soon as he came into rage. Wraith danced his way through lightning and flame as he closed the distance to the defenders. Heat seared the air around him to oven temperatures and tested the effectiveness of his shields. He didn't counterattack as he danced, saving his energy for the moment he could see the whites of their eyes. When Wraith finally got that close, however, he found the guards almost fully retreated down a side passage. Again, smart. If an enemy could get past that kind of firepower, trying to take him on in close combat was suicidal. Better to retreat, regroup and come at him again later from a different angle. A little faster to disengage and they all might have lived. As it was, he only managed to take down one of the six and possibly maim another. The plan for Wraith's infiltration of the castle originally depended on chaos. Vlad had thought that meant holding back enough to allow the guards to raise the alarms. Maybe a skirmish or two thrown in. Now, he reconsidered. If the Guards were this good bringing anything less than his best could get him killed. He'd become too accustomed to fighting Hunters, playing with his food in order to savor the meal. These were not Hunters. Hunters were trained to the level of pre-Ocean grunts. They were so afraid of their master the only thing keeping them in line was the huge salary that came with the job. Again he was impressed by the power of loyalty. So he stopped holding back. He stopped striding arrogantly down passages and started sneaking his way from corridor to hall to palatial room. When he attacked he did it from the shadows or out of blind turns, striking hard and fast and drawing blood when he did. But if he stepped up his game, so did they.