About Dragon’s Fall: Rise of the Scarlet Order
Three vampyrs. Three lives. Three intertwining stories.
Bearing the guilt of destroying the holiest of books after becoming a vampyr, the Dragon, Lord Desmond searches the world for lost knowledge, but instead, discovers truth in love.
Born a slave in Ancient Greece, Alexandra craves freedom above all else, until a vampyr sets her free, and then, she must pay the highest price of all—her human soul.
An assassin who lives in the shadows, Roquelaure is cloaked even from himself, until he discovers the power of friendship and loyalty.
Three vampyrs, traveling the world by moonlight—one woman and two men who forge a bond made in love and blood. Together they form a band of mercenaries called the Scarlet Order, and recruit others who are like them. Their mission is to protect kings and emperors against marauders, invaders, and rogue vampyrs—and their ultimate nemesis—Vlad the Impaler.
Here’s a sample of what people are saying:
“David Lee Summers has broken all molds of what vampires have come to mean to modern and past civilizations. His vampires of the Scarlet Order series will infect you with an incurable thirst. Once you begin the series, you will not want to let it go. Summers is a master of seduction, horror, and suspense, mixing history with fantasy. I strongly urge you to delve into the world of the Scarlet Order. I promise you, you are in for a ride you will never forget or want to end.” Giovanna Lagana, author of With Black & White Comes the Grey
“A thoroughly engrossing, fast-paced and laudably well-written read.” Romance Junkies
“From the first pages of the novel, I was struck by the historical references which were true and amazed how Desmond’s story was woven through the fabric of time and space.” Emily Guido, author
of The Light-Bearer Series
Dragon’s Fall: Rise of the Scarlet Order is a novel in five acts. The first two acts were published separately as:
Excerpt from Dragon’s Fall: Rise of the Scarlet Order
The problem with hunting for anything in a city the size of Constantinople is trying to figure out where to begin. I spent my second night in the city walking through the streets, trying to understand the layout of the city and slipping into taverns where I might make discreet inquiries.
Unfortunately, taverns are not the best places to learn about obscure religious artifacts. However, they are good places to meet construction workers and artisans, and I soon met some men who were very proud of work they had done in their youth on a church called the Holy Wisdom of the Logos. That church overlooked the Sea of Marmara from atop a hill. “It’s near the Imperial Palace,” bragged the worker I spoke to. “I don’t know anything about holy books, but I’m guessing anything of value would be there.”
The following night, I crossed the city and found the Holy Wisdom of the Logos. It was an enormous building, unlike anything I had ever seen.
I would describe the central building as a great, tiered block, but that would do it no justice at all as each face of the block’s upper tier was constructed of great, sweeping arches. In the corners were structures that resembled the towers of fortresses, except that they didn’t jut above the top of the building. Rather, they were integrated into the structure itself. Topping the structure was a great dome that almost seemed to float over the structure.
Away from the building on the lower tier were four spires, taller than the building itself that pointed heavenward.
As a Dragon in Britain, I had seen many of the stone circles the ancient druids had built and was always in awe of the work required to place the great stones. To my mind, the structure that stood before me that night dwarfed any of the stone circles the druids had built.
I crept through the courtyard in front of the structure, toward the main door, hoping that I would find someone around that would be willing to let me in and talk with me. I reached up to knock, but the merest brush of my hand pushed the door open. My brow knitted as I examined the door. It did not take long to discover that someone had crudely jammed the latch mechanism so that the door would not lock.
The inside of the building itself was mostly dark, illuminated only by faint moonlight coming in through two rows of windows. The lower tier of the building seemed as though it housed offices or rooms. Possibly there was a library, but it was impossible to know which direction to turn first.
As it was, I was drawn forward into the main sanctuary. There, the domed ceiling created a vast expanse and even inside, in the dark, I experienced the illusion that I was looking up into the heavens themselves. I walked up toward the altar and discovered two doors.
Both were locked, but considering the configuration of the building, I doubted those doors led to anything more than antechambers.
I turned around and studied the inside. There were balconies that overlooked the room. All had doors at the back and I gathered those doors led to a staircase. One of the balconies was notable due to the presence of two particularly grandiose chairs. I gathered that must be where Emperor Justinian II and his wife would sit during services.
Returning to the entranceway, I found a set of stairs that led upwards. Ascending the stairs, I found hallways that went toward the balconies.
Out of curiosity, I followed the hallway toward the emperor’s balcony. When I came to the last door, I opened it. There, I was surprised to find that I was not in the emperor’s balcony, but in the one adjacent to it. I saw a door at the back of the emperor’s balcony, but there was no obvious way to get to it. It struck me that there could be important secrets behind that door.
I transformed into the swarm and quickly crossed the distance to the emperor’s balcony, reformed, and examined the door. I reached for the handle and discovered that the latch had been rigged, much as the church’s front door. I pursed my lips and just as I was about to proceed, the door flew open in my face.
Stunned by the abrupt movement, I fell back against the balcony’s railing and opened my eyes to see a figure in black turn around, remove a metal bar that was holding the latch open, carefully secure the door, and then step to the edge of the balcony.
The person in black had a bag slung over his shoulder and made as if to leap from the balcony. I couldn’t imagine an ordinary human making the jump without, at the very least, breaking a limb.
“Wait a moment,” I cried.
The person turned around and I caught sight of dark brown eyes and smooth olive skin. This wasn’t a man as I’d assumed, but was, rather, a woman. She lunged forward with surprising speed and pushed me over the side of the balcony. She leapt down next to me and hissed, revealing fangs. However, she gasped and backed into one of the pews when I sat up, rubbing my head. “You are neuntoter, are you not?” I asked.
“I prefer the word vampyr,” she said in an accent that seemed odd to me. “What are you?”
“I am Desmond, Lord Draco,” I responded. I then opened my mouth, revealing my own fangs. “I’ve heard several names for our kind and I don’t think I like any of them.”
“We need to leave before the palace guards discover what I’ve taken,” she said. She helped me to my feet and together we made for the door.
There, she undid her sabotage, and the door locked behind us. We ducked into a nearby alley and crouched down together as she took a peek into her bag. She held up several jewels and examined them in the moonlight.
“You’re a thief,” I said, beginning to understand.
“My name is Alexandra.”
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