Brendan Carroll's Blog: Working my way back - Posts Tagged "red-cross-of-gold"

Amazon has kindly put the Red Cross of Gold I:. the Knight of Death and Book II:. the King of Terrors on sale for only $1.99. How books are chosen for these sales or discounts is mysterious, but at least it helps the readers and the authors whenever they decide to discount books. I only wish that they would give the author heads up so that we can promote the discounts in our blogs and such.

Upcoming, the Red Cross of Gold XVIII:. The Company of Women is currently under final revision and will soon be released for sale at amazon.com.

5.0 out of 5 stars The Assasin Chronicles have me HOOKED!, July 17, 2010
By Faith Michaels "Hope" (Texas) - See all my reviews

This review is from: The Red Cross of Gold II:. the King of Terrors: The Assassin Chronicles (Volume 2) (Paperback)
I was convinced when I read the first book that Brendan Carroll was onto something, but honestly did not think he could outdo himself... WRONG! This book is even BETTER than the first! The story moves forward with purpose. Not only did I get sucked-in with this one but I read it all in record time because I was preparing myself for the next book. I fell in love with the sexy knights and could not believe I was torn between which hero I wanted the sweet Texas girl to fall for. In this book I started hating characters that I originally loved and vise versa. Never has a book touched so many emotions in me as a reader... I caught myself wanting to make a phone call to the author to ask WHY he did THAT to this character or that... but only because I had already become so involved with each character I felt like I knew them...and of course books three forward were purchased BEFORE I finished this one. I just did not want to be somewhere wondering what in the world was going on with MY characters without being able to access them immediately...sad but true... I am hooked...DANG IT!

Here is a reposting of a guest blog I did for Sarah Hadad's blogsite at: LIt and Literature

Today I'm pleased to introduce Brendan Carroll, who has an entire series available for you to enjoy. Leave a comment for Brendan and for any previous or future authors in this author party and you will be eligible to win a $50.00 Amazon.com gift certificate!

The Red Cross of Gold:. Assassin Chronicles leans toward fantasy, but is set in modern times and centers around a rather grumpy, semi-immortal knight left over from the Crusades. He is one of twelve members of the ruling Council of the Order of the Red Cross of Gold. His primary job as Knight of Death and assassin for the order makes him a rather dark character to start with. His secondary occupation as alchemist requires his attention in a dusty, musty old lab in Scotland making gold to support the Order’s financial needs. He considers himself a simple monk and wants nothing more than to be left alone, but fate has other things in store for him. The Order’s Grand Master sends him on a mission to America to retrieve a traitorious member of the Order who has defected to another Order. It should have been a simple snatch and grab mission, dead or alive, no problem, but he runs into trouble in Texas when he runs afoul of nasty little fellow who throws some sort of mysterious chemical in his face that causes him to temporarily forget who he is and why he’s there. By the time his memories return, he is in deep trouble.

I have always been interested in mystical subjects such as the mystery of the Templar Knights’ treasures, the Ark of the Covenant mystery, Freemasonry legends, mythology, conspiracy theories, ufo’s, quantum physics, time travel, cosmology and other subjects too numerous to mention. The myriad facts and trivia that I amassed over the years inspired me to attempt to tie everything together in one simple package.

I guess my favorite character has to be the Chevalier Mark Andrew Ramsay, Knight of Death. But I have a number of characters I am quite fond of throughout the series. I love to start off making the reader dislike the characters and then gradually cause them to fall in love with them. I wouldn’t ever classify the books as romance exclusively, but I have heard from a number of my female readers just how sexy my grumpy knight really is.

In addition to writing, I’ve done a variety of crafty things over the years from making birdhouses to oil painting (which I found much too expensive and messy to continue). I love to draw and paint and make things. I’m an amateur bird-watcher and I collect wind-up toys.

Right now, I’m attempting to read The Cost of Betrayal by David Dalglish. I have Gone for a Soldier by Jeff Hepple waiting in my kindle as well as a number of other indie books that sound very interesting. I am also reading a new book about faeries.

In the works is The Red Cross of Gold XVIII:. The Company of Women, the eighteen book in the Assassin Chronicles series. It should be out before the end of the month. I have written all the books in the series already and am now simply editing and formatting them for kindle, smashwords and paperback editions.

Here is a very nice review I received on The Knight of Death from one of my readers:

This is one of the best books I've read in a long time. I took my kids swimming, and sat there for 3 hours engrossed and on the edge of my seat. They had to beg me to take them home, because I didn't want to stop reading. Every time I got a free minute, I wanted to get back to this book. I am so glad there are many more in the series!

Our hero is Mark Ramsay, immortal Templar Knight, alchemist and assassin, rough and tough and oh so gorgeous. He finds himself kidnapped and without his memory, and discovers who he is and what he is about, along with the reader. Just when you think things can't get any worse for our hero, his Brothers come to his......rescue? Murder and mayhem, sword fights and brawls, flashbacks to life during the Crusades, love and loss and sex and even some unexpected humor all abound in this terrific tale.

I highly recommend this series!


My books can be found at Amazon.com, smashwords and Barnes & Noble. They are also listed on KOBO and in the I-store and are available in a number of e-formats as well as paperbacks.

I have blogs at Blogspot, Wordpress & Author’s Den. I can be found on Facebook, LibraryThing, Shelfari and Goodreads.

Sometimes when talking about the Assassin Chronicles, I tend to forget that the main character is truly a man with a problem (actually several of them). He drinks too much Scotch. He's grumpy, impatient, intolerant, dangerous, brooding. He not only has one nasty job as Assassin for a clandestine organization known as the Red Cross of Gold Order of the Poor Knights of Solomon's Temple, he also has a long title and an equally long name (that unfolds as the series goes) to bear up under. He doesn't like strawberries or kiwis and he doesn't like to think much if he can help it. Since his reclusive personality keeps him deep in the heart of Scotland and far from the Temple's HQ in sunny, southern Italy, he also has a secondary job in his dungeon-like basement where he makes gold out of base metals for the Order's financial needs. Top it all off with the fact that he is extremely old and doesn't get along very well with women. His weapon of choice is an ancient sword made of braided gold called the Golden Sword of the Cherubim. He likes things simple, but a deep, dark secret he has held for over eight centuries brings him a great deal of grief when it finally comes to light. Yes, there is blood and a bit of guts and glory in the Assassin's Chronicles, so if you see me writing about faeries and knights and mystic horses, don't forget to keep your guard up, your armor on and your helmet within reach.
I don't know if I would call the series a dark fantasy like David Dalglish's Half-Orc series, but they are not exactly light romance. There's plenty of darkness, evil and mayhem for the fans, but maybe not so much graphic blood and sex. Enough for me. I do wish my fans and readers would let me know if they want more blood and guts or sex or what. I guess they are OK with them the way they are.

(this is a reprint of the blog that my leading character wrote on dragons the other day)
I have to thank Miss Jenna Johnson for letting me know that today is Dragon Appreciation Day. I didn't even know and I have two dragons to care for. I hate to think what would have happened to me if she hadn't reminded me. So, I thought I'd let everyone know what I did for them.

Now, if you are a reader of the Assassin Chronicles, you know by now or will know in the future that the Assassin (that's me) is responsible for two dragons personally, knows a few more and has actually had some experience as a dragon. I've known good dragons and bad as well as evil dragons and indifferent dragons.

Most dragons, fortunately, are of the indifferent persuasion and that is all good and well for most people since dragons tend to be a bit hot under the collar (pardon the pun). If they notice people at all, it is not usually a good thing for the people involved unless they are very skilled as a Dragonslayer, a wizard or a truly Olympic quality sprinter. Mostly they spout a few flames and poof! Up in smoke. Dealing with dragons is never child's play and should only be undertaken when aboslutely necessary after the proper training.

Take it from me, I learned most of what I know about dragons either by accident, experiment or desperate necessity.

Take Innana for instance. She is extremely hard to please at times and is as moody as a teeny bopper girl with hormone problems. (Not to say that teeny bopper lassies are bad or anything. I'm just not used to them.) So, anyway, Inanna likes to be flattered and pampered and taken on trips. Yep, trips. Holidays? Like vacations. Of course, finding a good place to take a dragon without attracting attention takes a great deal of magick. So I made reservations in Belize for a tip next month with her (she likes the jungle, you see) and I gave her the news and a side of beef in celebration of this special day. She doesn't usually eat beef since she primarily lives in the water and eats fish so it was a real treat.

On the other hand, Annoni is quite mad. She spends most of her time asleep and that is very good for the most part. When she is out and about, she bears watching or else she may decide to burn a forest or two and wreak havoc on a village. Generally, I have to keep her under lock and key, but today, I let her outside and took her down by the seashore for a stroll. She drank several gallons of sea water, munched on a few horseshoe crabs for luck and chased the gulls up and down the beach. Afterwards, she lay on the rocks, basking in the sun for a while and a bit. We had to cut our trip short when some joggers showed up and she wanted to roast them. All in all, it was good for her though a bit cold for my tastes.

Just remember, it isn't really necessary to actually know a dragon personally to appreciate them. If you've seen some in the wild or some of the more famous Hollywood dragons, you can simple send cards or if you want to be extravagant sent a sheep-gram or a doubloon or two for their troves. Best to keep your distance, that's my advice.

Thanks again, Miss Jenna!

Sincerely,

Mark Andrew Ramsay c/o Assassin Chronicles Facebook

The Red Cross of Gold II:. The King of Terrors

Chapter Ten of Twenty-Five
Terrors shall make him afraid on every side, and shall drive him to his feet.


“Valentino was right!” Mark Andrew raised his head and coughed out the words before blowing his nose loudly in his handkerchief. “Merry had no interest in me, Brother. She has what she wants…. My son! I was a fool, Lucio. Again.”

“You are taking this too hard, Brother,” Lucio tried to talk to him. It was useless. It sickened him to hear Mark Andrew speak of Merry in such terms. His Brother was in the deepest despair, but he no longer seemed as angry as before. Lucio had never witnessed such depth of feelings for any woman. The Will of God was a comforting thing in deed. The blame for everything good and evil could be attributed to this one thing though he hardly thought the Creator capable of creating evil, he did feel that evil was something that God allowed one to bring upon one’s self in order to teach life’s lessons. It seemed a shame to him that Mark learned his lessons in such a harsh manner. But even the immense emotional suffering of his Brother gave him a twinge of jealousy.

“How could I have been so stupid? So arrogant?” Mark was a bit calmer now, but his voice was still hoarse from crying. “Tell me, Brother. And what did she do to poison the boy against me so that he can’t even speak to me? He was terrified of me. Tell me, Brother!”

“I can’t tell you anything,” Lucio sighed. “I would have had to hear it myself to judge. It is not the end of the world.”

“No? Oh, yes, that’s right,” Mark’s tone changed. He rolled down the window and threw the monogrammed handkerchief into the wind viciously. “What was I thinking? That’s what we’re waiting on. The end of the world so we can go into battle for God. God… who has done this to me. And to you.”

“No,” Lucio looked at him in alarm. “You must not say such things! It is dangerous.”

“Dangerous! I’ll tell you what is dangerous, Brother,” Mark Andrew slammed his fist against the dash of the car again. Certainly they would have to buy the whole car if he kept destroying it. “The company of women is dangerous. Just like the damned Rule says.”

Lucio sighed. He could not have imagined this would happen, but it was understandable. Seven years was, after all, a long time in a normal life. Perhaps not to the Council of Twelve, but to the rest of the world, it was a long time. He only wished that he could have spoken with her on his Brother’s behalf. He wondered what Mark Andrew had said to her and could imagine what it might have been. Mark Andrew was good on paper. It was Lucio Dambretti who had the silver tongue. Ramsay should have sent him as an emissary as had been the custom of old. He could have arranged everything, he felt sure. He could have had her primed and ready to say ‘I do’ even as Mark Andrew walked through her door. And he could have drawn up the marriage agreement as well, but the world had changed.

“Perhaps you need a mediator,” he suggested hopefully.

“For what?” Mark looked at him and then put his hand over his mouth. “Pull over.”

Lucio bounced the car off the highway and barely missing a large rural mailbox before he managed to stop. Mark Andrew opened the door and crawled out on the side of the road. Lucio sat under the steering wheel staring at the next mailbox, wondering who else lived out here in this godforsaken country. It was the same stretch of deserted country highway where the cows had attacked the van that he and Simon d’Ornan had been waiting in for Sir Beaujold. He looked around quickly in the moonlight, but saw no cattle in the pastures beyond the fencing. He climbed out of the car and went round to find his Brother heaving up his latest meal. An unnerving sight. The Italian tried to remember the last time he had seen his Brother sick…. A long, long time ago. Roasted rat did not agree with the Scot’s constitution any more than a broken heart it would seem.
When he was done, Lucio helped him up and offered his own monogrammed handkerchief. Mark snatched the cloth, wiped his mouth and threw it in the ditch without hesitation.

“It is the Will of God, Brother,” Lucio told him and received a punch in his ribs from Ramsay’s elbow as the man suddenly turned on him.

“Don’t tell me about the Will of God!” Mark shouted at him and shoved him back against the fender of the car. “If He were here this moment I would show Him the edge of my sword.”

“You are beside yourself, Brother,” Lucio lowered his head and rubbed his tender ribs. He had never heard anyone express a desire to kill God. He knew that Mark Andrew was only taking out his frustration on the nearest object… himself. It had happened many times before, just not quite this bad. He should have seen it coming.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mark continued and pressed his hands to the sides of his head. “I would kill Him and set the world free of his tyranny.”

“I know enough to know that you are out of your mind with grief and you don’t know what you are saying,” Lucio told him and then had to duck as Mark Andrew took a swing at him.

Lucio backed around the front of the car to get away from him. There was no telling what the man would do if the Italian allowed him to knock him out here in the middle of nowhere.
“Don’t do this, Brother,” Lucio warned him.

Mark Andrew was in a fit of rage. Words were useless. The Italian was suddenly very grateful that the golden sword was carefully tucked into the trunk of the car when the Scot swung at him again.
Lucio dodged the heavy-handed shots and waited for the opportune moment to present itself. He let him swing again and then punched him once in his weakest spot, his stomach. Mark doubled over. Lucio grabbed his shoulder, pulled him up and delivered one well placed blow on his jaw. He had done it before. Too simple. All you had to know was where the weak spots. He caught his Brother up under the arms and deposited him back in the car before slamming the door.

“It is the Will of God, whether you agree or not,” he said with finality as he dusted off his hands.

It's obvious that Meredith and Simon, the Healer, should not be mucking about in Mark's alchemy lab with Paddy Puffingtowne. And it probably is illegal!!

“That’s preposterous!” Merry leaned back and crossed her arms over her stomach. “I don’t care who he’s sleeping with, Paddy, pardon my French. I still love him as a Brother, just I still love Simon and Lucio. After everything I have brought upon his head, surely he doesn’t expect me to hold him at fault for having sought someone else’s attentions. Even if it is Elizabeth. I am not as petty as he might think. I am a Poor Knight of Solomon’s Temple just as much as any of my Brothers and I don’t think he can afford to turn down my help. Not if the picture you paint is accurate.”
“Now, now, lassie, ye dunna understand,” Paddy tried to calm her down a bit. “It’s not wot ye think atoll. ’e ’as ’is reasons fur not wantin’ ye thair and they air not somethin’ thot Paddy is at liberty t’ divulge. Trust me, lassie. Ye’d best respect ’is wishes in this matter. If ye truly love th’ king as ye say ye do, then ye’ll ’ave t’ trust ’im.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Paddy Puffingtowne,” Merry said stubbornly. “I’ll not be left out of the Order’s business and I have a mind of my own.”
“Aye, thot ye do,” Paddy agreed whole-heartedly. “Ye’ve ’ardly troied th’ leaf. ’ave a smoke and tell me wot ye think.”
Merry stuck the pipe between her lips and took a deep draw on the stem. The ember glowed in the bowl and blue smoke went up to the ceiling. She coughed once and then took another puff. Simon reached past her and took the pipe Paddy had made for him. He turned up the wine, finishing off the last of the bottle before taking a draw off the pipe. His eyes widened and then he coughed worse than Merry.
Merry stopped coughing long enough to sputter “This is bound to be illegal, Paddy.” She looked at the clurichaun in consternation, took a long draw and then giggled.
“It takes yer moind off yer tribbles fur a whoile and a bit as Sam wud say, but it’s ’armless. I told ye thot ye wud loike it.”
Simon puffed on the pipe in fascination. Everything in the room seemed to turn blue in front of his eyes and some of the equipment on the table began to move about, dancing it seemed on long, gangly legs. He blinked rapidly and then drank the down the last of the wine in the glass.
“Dragon’s Blood,” he said again softly. “Dragon’s Blood.”
“What about Dragon’s Blood?” Merry turned to look at him with her pipe still clutched between her perfect teeth.
“Brother Ramsay told me that the Mad Arab was trying to make Dragon’s Blood,” Simon told her and continued to watch as the tripod danced across the counter with a brass bowl following after it. The Erlenmeyer flask began to melt into a puddle. He reached out one finger cautiously to touch the glass. It appeared to cling to his finger in a long stringer of melted glass, but did not burn him. He held his finger up and looked at the crystal filament hanging from it.
“Stop thot!” Paddy laughed and admonished the Healer. He scooted across the counter and took the glass filament from Simon’s finger and laid it on the counter. “Ye’ve ruined th’ gloss now and Andy will be mad as an auld wet hen when ’e comes ’ome and foinds ’is equipment in a shambles.”
Merry turned to look at the melted flask and the dancing tripod.
“How did you do that, Brother?” she asked and took some of the glass up on her own finger.
“Ye’re goin’ t’ cut yerself,” Paddy warned her a bit too late as the thin glass snapped and poked her finger at the same time. A drop of blood emerged, bright red. “I shudna give ye th’ blue,” he said and slapped one hand against his forehead. “I didna realoize thot twud be so powerful in th’ overwarld.”
Merry watched the single drop of blood on her finger as it grew and then dripped slowly onto the table.
Simon focused on it and the blood expanded, forming itself into the shape of a tiny red dragon with black wings. It reared its head and spouted a tiny flash of fire before taking flight about the room.
“Stop it. Stop it.” Paddy reached to take the pipes from them. “Holy mackerel!” he said as he slid from the counter and went chasing after the miniature beast.
Merry giggled and laughed and pressed her hands over her mouth like a little girl.
Simon tried to suppress a laugh, wheezed and coughed and burst out laughing. A bright blue butterfly emerged from his mouth and fluttered about the room.
“Oll right. Thot does it!” Paddy came to take the Healer’s arm. “I’m takin’ ye up t’ yer woife.”
“Oh, noooo.” Simon shook his head. “Thot wudna do atoll.”

My work along with an 'about me' section is now posted at Tracey Alley's World. Also please remember that my first Assassin Chronicles novel is currently FREE at Amazon.com, B&N.com, Smashwords, et al.
I would love to have everyone try my work risk free. If you like the first one, I'm told that the others get better as they go along. I don't know if that is true, but I've had many readers tell me that it's true.
http://tinyurl.com/4oarjz6