Blog Tour ~ The King’s Dragon by W.M. Fawkes & Sam Burns (Excerpt + Giveaway)

The King’s Dragon by W.M. Fawkes & Sam Burns

Series: Fire and Valor #1

Release Date: September 26, 2019

Subgenre: LGBTQIA+ High Fantasy Romance

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Synopsis for The King’s Dragon:

Lord Tristram Radcliffe has a secret—he is the only dragon at the king’s court in Llangard. It’s a secret he’s kept from the knights he’s fought beside, from the ladies who bat their lashes at him, and from his closest companion, Prince Reynold. If it were to get out, he’d be banished to the Mawrcraig Mountains along with the rest of his kind, but the kingdom of men is the only one he’s ever known, and his heart lives in the stone halls of those who’d count him an enemy.

When the old king dies and Prince Reynold takes the throne, two visitors from the north throw Tristram into the middle of the ancient conflict between dragons and men. They put him on a collision course with the king’s shadow, Bet Kyston, a dangerous assassin who may want him dead or may want more of Tristram that he’d ever thought to give.

With the eyes of dragons upon him and a threat from the north creeping toward the home he loves, Tristram must weigh his allegiances before his dual legacies tear him apart.


Bet was at Reynold’s side so fast Tris didn’t even see him move. He looked unaccountably nervous for a man who could almost certainly take down any man on the field. “Your Majesty?”

“I want you to fight Lord Gaspar’s guards.” When Gaspar sputtered, Reynold turned to him. “You don’t think it a fair fight? Shall I allow you to join them as well?”

“I assure you, sire, any one of my knights could handle this whelp of a commoner, even if Lord Radcliffe cannot.” He sneered at Tristram, as he had since Tris had been a child. He’d been a friend of Tristram’s mother’s husband—the man the court thought was his father. Tris had always assumed Gaspar knew him to be a bastard, but frankly, he had more important things to worry about.

He wasn’t sure why, but he was worried about Bet. The man was dishonorable and infuriatingly smug, but also . . . like Tris, he never hesitated in his duty to his king. Wasn’t there a kind of honor in that, when one committed dishonorable acts for a king who could not afford to sully himself? Possibly it was Tristram grasping for excuses because he found Bet beautiful, but it still rung true. Perhaps.

“You question Lord Radcliffe’s skill as well?” Reynold asked, pretending to be surprised. He turned to Bet. “Get to it, then. You against Gaspar’s men. If you win, you and Tristram stay. If they win, they stay.”

He had to be joking. While Tris had every faith in Bet’s prowess, it was madness.

But this was no farce. Tristram couldn’t even suggest he deserved to have a part in the deciding of his future. Reynold had announced it, and now Tristram’s fate was in the hands of the king’s shadow.


“What, exactly, did Jorun say?”

Bet’s nose flared as he drew in a breath. He’d learned not to stoke Reynold’s anger unnecessarily. In this instance, it seemed unavoidable, however unlikely that that anger would fall upon his own head.

“He likened your father to a farmer. More shepherd than king—lord over wayward beasts. He said that King Edmund had outlived his usefulness, but that Your Majesty was not likely to.”

The lands of Tornheim, to the north past the high ridge of the Mawrcraig Mountains, past even Lord Radcliffe’s seat at Merrick, were harsh and unforgiving. There, the mighty ruled. There had been whispers of a jarl who could call the wind. That the Cavendish line had not produced an heir with significant magic in generations would signal to their enemies that the kingdom was weak. It was only a matter of time before they tried to take advantage of that weakness.

Reynold considered him a moment. The king’s tempers were much more dangerous when they swept cool as a wind out of the frozen north. He nodded shortly.

“And Jarl Katrien?” His Majesty asked.

“Said very little.”

Behind his closed lips, Bet could see the king run his tongue over his teeth. Never let it be said that Reynold did not weigh his options before acting.

“Jarl Jorun flaps his tongue too much,” Reynold said casually. “Bring it to me. If it’s still in his skull, all the better.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Reynold turned back to the lingering mourners. Bet bowed deeply, even as he stepped away. “Yes, Your Majesty.”


Author Bio:


W.M. Fawkes is an author of LGBTQ+ urban fantasy and paranormal romance. She lives with her partner in a house owned by three halloween-hued felines that dabble regularly in shadow walking.

Sam lives in the Midwest with husband and cat, which is even less exciting than it sounds, so she’s not sure why you’re still reading this.

She specializes in LGBTQIA+ fiction, usually with a romantic element. There’s sometimes intrigue and violence, usually a little sex, and almost always some swearing in her work. Her writing is light and happy, though, so if you’re looking for a dark gritty reality, you’ve come to the wrong author.

Author links:

Joint Facebook Group:

Waverly Fawkes:

Sam Burns:



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