OMG – she had me hooked nearly from the first paragraph. The Twelfth Knight is a fairly complex story. It does a lot of the world building that I’m sure will be needed in future books for the series, but I never felt like it was tedious information and it never caused the story to drag for me. In fact, it was just the opposite; it kept me enchanted with it.

Lance and his group were all Knights at Arthur’s Roundtable and they are immortal (you will learn why when you read the book). Each of them must find the other half of their soul in order to help save the world. The Twelfth Knight focuses on the relationship between Lance and Mel, who is Lance’s other half.

Mel’s life hasn’t been great ever since his beloved father died when he was ten. His mother became an alcoholic and drug addict which ended up with Mel in the care of family services at age thirteen. His experiences in the system weren’t good and he ran away at age fifteen. He did what he had to in order to survive.

Lance doesn’t want Mel to be the other half of his soul and he fights his feelings for quite a while. Mel is skeptical about everything that Lance and his friends tell him but it doesn’t take him long to accept it.

The world that Victoria Sue has created is really special. The way she blends the past with present day is great. We meet a lot of different characters in this book and I hope there will be books for all of them.

With The Twelfth Knight, Victoria Sue has once again proven to me that she is a masterful storyteller. I have no idea how she comes up with her ideas for stories but I hope she doesn’t run out of them any time soon. While Lance and Mel get a HFN in this story there are things that won’t be answered until future books.

Reviews for Victoria Sue

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Without being asked, Kay touched a button on his phone. Lance barely listened as Kay gave instructions for a full background check on any residents at this address that may be called Mel or Merlin. He could hear Gawain muttering in disbelief on the other end and could practically see the man’s fingers flying over the keyboard.

Kay turned to Lance. “He’ll call back when it’s done. Ali and Lucan are patrolling over near the college, so I’ll go back and do one last sweep.”

Lance was briefly diverted. “Everything clear?”

Kay nodded, pausing with a hand on the door. “I assume you’re staying here, so I’ll leave the truck.” And without waiting for the unnecessary reply, Kay got out and closed the door. Within seconds, he had melted back into the night.

Lance looked at the apartment building. The youths had disappeared. Rap music was blaring from the ground-floor apartment, seemingly unheard by the rest of the building’s tenants. He glanced at his watch—nearly two a.m. Wouldn’t hurt to just check the perimeter. He also needed to know which apartment Mel was in.

Lance was just going to open the door when his phone vibrated. Gawain. He eagerly answered it. “Yes?”

“Is it true? Have we found one?” Gawain’s voice was a mixture of incredulity and hopefulness.

Lance huffed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “What did you come up with?”

“Well, he’s definitely mortal,” Gawain replied bluntly, and Lance nodded even though Gawain couldn’t see him.

“Which doesn’t necessarily mean he is a Tresor,” Lance acknowledged.

There was a silence on the other end for a beat. “But Kay says he could see the Ursus.”

“I thought so, but maybe he just kept it together more than any other victim we’ve ever seen.” But that made no sense either. He had joked about Halloween costumes.

“Lance, you know no mortal can ever see the Ursus unless he is a Tresor.”

“Then maybe he is.”

“But…who for?”

Not him certainly. He was expecting something else—someone else. “What did you find?”

“Merlin Rhys, twenty-three. No living family. Interestingly enough, father was—”

“A history teacher,” Lance interrupted.

Gawain cleared his throat. “Actually no. His father was a college professor and at one time a respected Arthurian historian—which would definitely account for the name if it is a coincidence—and also wrote a few historical essays and the like. He was well thought of for years, and then something happened and he got fired. I would have to do a little more research to find out what. A few more teaching jobs after that, each one less secure and not as financially beneficial. Died when Mel was ten in an apartment fire. Mother remarried another two times in the past thirteen years, each time less successfully than the last. The first one is doing life for two counts of murder in Raleigh, North Carolina, and the second—her dealer—paid for her to enter rehab twice before his final stop was the morgue.”

“What about the mother?”

“Did booze and drugs, as I said, with husband number two, and more of the same with husband number three. Finally OD’d two years ago. Numerous incidences of family services being involved, and then a missing person report on Mel was filed by his school when he was thirteen. There are no mentions after that until he’s eighteen when employment records—agency escorting, and a little modeling—show up. He has a driver’s license. No rental agreement on the apartment you are at. No taxes filed,” Gawain added.

“Did the cops even try to find him?” Lance didn’t know why he’d made it a question. There shouldn’t be much after all these years that still caused incredulity.

“Lance, you know these cases are impossible.” He knew. Lance could hear the bitterness in the words. Of them all, Gawain never spoke about his childhood.

“See if you can do some more digging.”

“Of course.”

Lance looked up at the sound of a door and to his astonishment saw Mel striding toward his truck carrying a steaming mug. He was so surprised he didn’t even reply to Gawain as he hung up.

He immediately scrambled out of the SUV and met him before he could leave the sidewalk. The dimples were back, and Lance groaned inaudibly when Mel smiled. He thrust the mug into his hand. “If you’re going to sit out here all night, you might as well have a warm drink. Sorry, it’s not coffee. Just regular breakfast tea.” He waved a couple of little white packets at him. “Sugar?”

Lance frowned. Mel shouldn’t be standing out here. “It isn’t safe—”

Mel lifted an eyebrow in derision. “No, the neighborhood’s shit. So, wanna tell me what you’re doing here?” He eyed the clearly expensive SUV. “No one can afford protection.”

Lance huffed at the implication. “How about you invite me up so I can drink my tea and explain.” He took a cautious sip. He actually wished it was brandy. What the hell was he going to say?

Mel stared at him, clearly undecided.

Lance sighed and drew himself up tall. “Look, we can’t talk out here. I saved your life.” He took another sip. “And you brought me tea. How scary is that?”

“You clearly never met my gran,” Mel answered dryly, shaking his head as if he knew he was going to regret his decision. “Come on, then. I have some cookies that go well with tea. Mrs. Jackson from downstairs gets them.” He followed his glance toward the rap music still blaring out from the basement apartment. “That’s Mrs. Jackson’s grandson, Emile.” Mel sighed. “She’s deaf. Unfortunately, no one else is.”

Lance smiled at Mel’s muttered words and followed him inside. He spent the four flights of stairs leading to his apartment trying to compose an opening to his explanation. Something told him that anything involving the words immortal or fifteen hundred-year-old witch’s curse might not get him another cup of tea, probably not any cookies, and definitely not the answers he needed.

Guardians of Camelot

Book two is available for pre-order now!

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