Book Review of Knight
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BACK COVER BLURB FOR KNIGHT BLINDNESS
Ready for battle, Medieval English knight, Stephen
Palmer, charges into the French enemy’s cavalry line. Heeding a warning given
months before, he hesitates as he comes face-to-face with the knight in the
warning. Struck down in the year 1356, he finds himself landing in the year
2013. Grievously wounded, he’s taken to a nearby hospital. Confused by the new
world surrounding him, he attempts to convince the staff he’s from another
time, only to find they think him mad.
Rescued by friends, who, to his surprise, have also come
through time, he must find a way to function in this odd modern England. He is
quickly enchanted by the kind Esme Crippen, the young woman hired to tutor him.
She too is enchanted by him. Tempted to deepen the relationship, she hesitates
thinking him adorable, but mad. He must discover the means for getting her to
believe the truth, all the while, unknown to him, he didn’t come forward in
time alone. The enemy knight has also traveled to 2013.
French noble, Roger Marchand, doesn’t question why the
English knight who charged him hesitated. That fraction of a pause gave him the
advantage needed and he brought his sword down upon the Englishman’s helmet
hard, unhorsing the knight. He moved to finish the Englishman off when the
world changed in a rush of sensations as he is ripped through time.
Seeking a reason for the terrible event, he enters a
nearby chapel. There, thinking God has chosen him for a quest to turn French
defeat that day in 1356 to victory, he sets out to find the English knight. The
man he is convinced holds the key to time. If he returns to the day of the
battle, he can warn his king of mistakes that snatched victory from them.
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history
professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love
of history and books.
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed
onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments
from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel
extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five
years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came
in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write two
different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My
romantic thriller series is, Dangerous Waters.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my
husband, four rescue dogs and a rescue horse.
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September 19, 1356
Cries of the
injured and dying French men-at-arms filled the air as Welsh bowman cut down
the initial enemy onslaught. The vibration from the second charge toward the English
lines traveled up through Arthur’s powerful legs, the tremor slight against
Stephen’s armored calf.
“Be still,” he
ordered as the warhorse stamped his impatience.
His friend and
baron he served, Guy Guiscard, said something indistinguishable over the noise.
“We cannot hold
them here, even on the high ground, not with their superior numbers.”
Both eyed the
grassy gap between theirs and the French held plateau. Unfurled enemy banners
flapped in the breeze, a colorful swell that continued up the expanse.
“Maybe not but we
can blanket the field with their blood,” Stephen said, exchanging a smile with
priests, who had earlier busied themselves blessing bows and swords now busied
themselves taking confessions, offering prayers, and the Holy Eucharist. A
decade before, at Crecy, he believed himself invincible—a young man’s arrogant
mantle. Today’s hard battle would leave few unscathed. When the fattest of the
churchmen approached, Stephen looked to the dying below. They’d prayed too. He
turned to the priest and waved him off.
On the other rise,
squires stood and took the reins from a contingent of French cavalry who’d
dismounted. They retained their arming swords, axes, and morning stars. Behind
them, line after line of mounted knights amassed on the grassy gap.
the best horsemen for the initial cavalry charge,” Stephen said.
He and Guy were in
Edward of Woodstock--the Black Prince’s column. They’d be the first to
challenge the cavalry charge.
“I’m tired of
watching the devils parade around foolishly thinking they cannot lose,” Guy
his visor down, the sound of the battle dimmed by the drone of his rapid
breathing inside the steel helm. The waiting was worse than fighting. He
glanced over at Prince Edward. “Let us be done with this. Give the order,” he
straightened in his saddle as more of the enemy climbed the hill in front of
their column. Then, the French cavalry charged. No longer a mere tremble of
vibration, the ground quaked with the bruising the soft earth took from the
oncoming horses. They rode over the men on foot and made for the breach in the
hedge where Edward sat.
darkened the sky. A deafening roar rose from below as the arrows found their
marks. Horses screamed as multiple shafts pierced their hides. Those who didn’t
fall reared, bucking their riders off. Others bolted, crushing French and
Edward gave the
signal. The prince’s column charged into the butchery. Arthur slid on the grass
wet from a lingering morning mist, blood, and the entrails of eviscerated
horses and men. To Stephen’s right, Basil Manneville, best friend to Guy, went
down. His horse had taken an ax to the chest as Basil leaped the hedge.
strides ahead, turned and rode to his aid. Stephen spun Arthur around, spurring
him hard to help. His pursuit was cut off by a mounted enemy knight. The
Frenchman came at him with his long sword, which Stephen maneuvered away from
then quickly pivoted to engage.
The long sword was
never his favored weapon and Stephen faced the knight with his shorter arming
sword drawn. The Frenchman shielded his sword and drew his morning star.
Trained by Stephen since he was a colt, Arthur didn’t flinch or shy from the
charge. He bared his teeth at Stephen’s cue, ready to bite either the enemy or
his horse. The Frenchman’s mount danced to the left. The knight’s position
altered a fraction leaving a vulnerable space open under his arm between the
back and breastplates of his armor.
his sword deep into the Frenchman’s side, striking ribs then soft tissue. The
knight swung once with his morning star and then fell from his mount. The
off, enemy soldiers had Guy surrounded. As Stephen reversed direction to ride
to his aid, he caught a flash of orange and black in his peripheral vision.
Guy’s warning from Yuletide the year before came back to him. Beware the black cat in a field of orange.
The image closed in on him. He
turned and saw the
Frenchman’s surcoat, a panther on a
background of orange silk. Stephen
hesitated for a split second as the warning became real. The French knight
raised his sword high. Stephen brought his up.
A second too late.
Fascinating story about a time
traveling soldier. Granted it wasn’t on
purpose. I loved the mystery and the
romance. It was a fabulous read.
give this story 4 out of 5 clouds.
product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my
opinions or reviews.