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by Tracy Cooper-Posey, guest blogger and author of Diana by the Moon

Have you ever stopped to wonder why King Arthur tales never seems to quite go away and die? They’re a lot like vampire stories in that respect. They go dormant for a while, then there’ll be a big surge and everyone gets King Arthur happy for a while, before the cycle dies down again. Remember in the late eighties and nineties when everyone seemed to be doing something about King Arthur? There was The Mists of Avalon, and Camelot did its world tour, right up until Clive Owen did King Arthur in 2004, which kinda killed the whole King Arthur cycle stone dead that time around.

We’re right in the middle of a vampire cycle right now. This one is a doozy, but there have been other vampire crazes – there was a short-lived one about twenty years ago, when Stephen King’s 'Salem's Lot was first published, around the same time as a short-lived remake of Dark Shadows, with Ben Cross playing the vampire Barnabas Collins. Then vampires subsided and died away until Anne Rice hit big with her books and away we went again.

So what is the fascination with King Arthur, then? We’ve done vampires to, well, death. We’ve turned them inside out and wondered why we love ‘em so much. But Arthur is just as enduring, if not more so.

I have one theory.

King Arthur did magnificent things. He held back a tide -- for a while, anyway. He was an heroic figure, and his life was filled with romantic deeds. Even if you strip away the fantasy figures, the mystical mumbo jumbo and boil Arthur right down to basic historical bare bones, the guy was a gutsy warrior, a leader of men, and he did the near impossible: He held frightened, resourceless, divided people together against overwhelming odds. Damn, he was good.

Add even some of the tall tales into the mix, and he becomes legendary. We know for a fact that The Battle of Mount Badon is true. Wow!

Given that tiny glimpse of historical truth, you have to wonder how much of the rest of it might be true.

And that’s where I form my theory. That’s where I think the fascination lies for all of us. We look at the stories and mythology of King Arthur and even the most cynical of us wonder, deep in the back of our minds, “what if this really happened? What if it was true?”

What if?

I think this same fascination holds with vampires and werewolves and a lot of the urban fantasy mythology we can’t seem to get enough of, these days. We read about these creatures that roam our city suburbs and neighbourhood malls, rubbing shoulders with us, sometimes pretending to be human, sometimes not even bothering trying to pass as one of us, but in the story we’re reading, they used to have to pass as human, once. And we wonder...what if it is true? What if in the real world they still are passing?

What if?

And you get that little atavistic shiver that makes you keep on reading, fascinated.

I know I’m going to pick up and read every King Arthur story that comes along. And I don’t think this is the last King Arthur story I’ll ever write, either. There’s far too much pulling me back to that universe for me to quit, yet.

What about you?

Diana By The Moon

HISTORICAL ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

He is Arthur’s man. His duty is his life. She fears and mistrusts him. The only way they will survive is to work together.

Finalist, Emma Darcy Award.

___

Diana — a fiery kitten of a Roman woman, who hides a terrible past, and struggles to lead her people on a desparate quest for survival against famine and Saxon raids, unable to trust anyone.

Alaric — proud Celtic warrior and trusted lieutenant to the upstart British leader, Arthur, who must overcome his hatred of Romans if he is to fulfill Arthur’s ambitions in the north.

A haunting tale of two lives touched by the coming of King Arthur, and two hearts & souls struggling to come together against odds as great as those against Britain itself. Only together will they survive, or else be sundered…forever.

_____________________

Excerpt

Verus was so still that even in the moonlight he was just a dark stone monolith hunched next to the spring. Diana felt a tinge of relief when she spotted him, for it was indeed chancy to be outside protective walls at night.

She climbed the slope with the hem of her tunic over one arm, for the grass was dew-soaked. When she reached the spring Verus relaxed. Above the trickle of water falling over the flat rock she heard his sword slide back into its scabbard.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” He was gruff.

“Neither should you.” She sat next to him and hugged him. Her arm didn’t quite reach around his shoulders.

The silence was comfortable. From the trees that started farther down the hill an owl hooted.

Verus sighed deeply. “I’m going back, Diana.”

“No! You can’t!” The protest was out before she could censor it. She straightened and turned to look at him. “I can’t believe Father gave his blessing!”

“He didn’t.”

“And you’re going anyway?”

He hung his head.

“But what about us? Your family?”

“Diana—”

“Who is this man, Arthur, who can command greater loyalty than your own family?”

“It’s not like that—”

“He’s a Celt, a bastard, a pagan who…who—”

“He’s a great man, Diana. His plans for Britain—”

“He’s an upstart!”

“You’re not listening to me!” Verus cried.

Diana’s protests scattered. He was right. “All I know is that he’s taking you away from me.”

“Don’t say that! I can stand Mother’s tears and Father’s censure. I can withstand everyone’s disapproval but yours.”

Diana couldn’t speak around the constriction in her throat—it was too painful to even swallow. Her vision blurred as tears formed and she let them fall.

“Agh—” His tone was dismayed. He pulled her roughly against him.

Diana winced as her arm twinged.

“What is it?” Verus loosened his hold. “Your arm?” He pulled her cloak aside. “Did Father hit you again?”

“I fell getting the wine down tonight,” Diana lied. When Verus’ fingers continued to probe her arm she added, “Truly, it is nothing. A bruise.” She wiped her tears away to see if Verus believed her.

His face was studiously blank but anger grew there. “And Mother said nothing?”

“She didn’t see me fall.”

“Fall? Stars above! Nothing has changed, has it? I suppose Lucilla still ignores you too?”

“You know she’s busy with her own children.”

“I know that she’s the oldest daughter and every other daughter is considered a waste. But Minna is Father’s favorite—no, everyone’s favorite—and you get ignored. I’m going to speak to Father—”

“No!” Diana grasped his arm. “Please don’t!”

“It’s high time something was done. They should have found a husband for you seven years ago. You’re twenty-two—”

“Twenty-one.” Diana was unwilling to have unnecessary years added to her already advanced age.

“Twenty-one. How long are you willing to creep around the estate hoping no one notices you?”

“What else is there for me?” Diana asked reasonably. “Father has his one daughter. I’m extra, a waste. They can’t marry me off without a dowry. Not at my age. Minna’s lucky. With her looks there will be men aplenty willing to marry her when she’s of age. The only alternative for me is the convent north of Eboracum…and I would suffocate there.” She smiled to remove the challenge from her words. “What else is there?”

Verus sat for a long time, frowning. At last he said slowly, “There must be something.” His frown deepened. “I have learned something from Arthur’s army, Diana. If Britain is to survive, we must examine the old ways of doing things with new eyes. That is what you must do too. You need to find your place in the world.”

“This is my place.”

“Do you believe that? In here?” And he touched the center of her chest.

It was her turn to frown. In her mind a mist shifted, revealing hazy shapes. It was exciting, a hint of an unsuspected future. It was terrifying too. She struggled to see the whole shape of the idea as it slipped away. Then it was gone.

“There is nothing else for me. I am content with my place.” But even as she spoke, she questioned the opinion. The act of questioning established customs scared her—it was like a rebellion.

“Tell me about Arthur,” she said quickly.

Verus smiled as if he recognized that she was shepherding his attention away from her. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you must defy your father, leave your family and risk traveling in winter to join him.”

“Traveling isn’t that risky, yet. Winter is late this year. But I need to go back very soon. Before winter does arrive.”

“Before the solstice?” Diana asked, appalled.

“Sooner. Perhaps even tomorrow.”

“But you just got here three days ago!”

“I know already that Father will never accept my plans. Besides, Arthur needs every man he can get.”

“Explain it to me!” Diana cried, feeling fresh tears building. “I want to know why. Why you?”

“It’s not just me, it’s many men. Hundreds of men have learned about Arthur’s plans and agree with them. Even here on the estate, the men I’ve spoken to have been curious, interested…”

“Why?”

“Arthur gives men hope in the future. It’s as if he knows, somehow, what is coming. As if he can see farther ahead than any man. And he is determined to make what he sees happen.”

Verus stood up, as if his enthusiasm couldn’t be contained while he was sitting. He faced Diana with one foot on the lip of the spring and spread his hands for emphasis as he spoke.

“Do you remember years ago when the farmers wanted their tithes lessened? Remember they marched to the villa and Father stood in front of them?”

“I remember.” She had been frightened and had hidden behind the oak tree to watch, unable to run away completely.

“Father stared the leader down. He just looked at him and the man gave up. Do you remember?”

She nodded.

“Arthur is like that, only…ten times stronger. When you look at him you can feel your soul being drawn to him.”

“He sounds evil.”

“He’s good, Diana. You would know that just by looking at him. He’s good and kind but he will not rest until he has achieved all that he can see in Britain’s future.”

Verus’ face was alight with passion. When had he grown so tall? He was eye to eye with her father and his shoulders had filled out…he was truly a man. No, he was a warrior—Diana could even see a faded scar on his arm. It peeked beneath the folded-back edge of the thick cloak he had tossed over his shoulder. He was leaner too, as if he had spent a lot of time working hard and growing stronger.

Verus had run away last summer—May it was, for they had been completing the second plowing of the fallow fields. He had simply been her big brother then, confused and frustrated. He had come back a different person, alight from within, powered by an obsession with a man and a vague dream.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she confessed. “And I don’t like it. It sounds foolish, Verus. An ordinary man chases a vision and you follow blindly. He has offered you nothing in return, no proof…how can you believe him?”

“There was no choice involved. I listened and I believed him. I wish you could do the same.”

“I wish I could too,” Diana admitted. “I wish I could run away with you.”

To buy Diana By The Moon, click here.

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A-C, Guest Blogger, Historical Romance, Paranormal, Vampire

Tags:

anne rice, ben cross, blogger, clive owen, dark shadows, doozy, heroic figure, king arthur, king arthur tales, leader of men, mists of avalon, mount badon, mumbo jumbo, nineties, overwhelming odds, salem s lot, tall tales, tiny glimpse, tracy cooper posey, vampire barnabas collins