BLAST, BLITZ, PROMOS, REVEALS, & TOURS . . . : SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - A Man of Honor, or Horatio's Confessions by J.A. Nelson

A Man of Honor, or Horatio's Confessions
by J.A. Nelson
Publication Date: December 9th 2019
Quill Point Press
Paperback, eBook & AudioBook; 414 pages
Genre: Historical/Thriller/Mystery

Winner of two silver medals
Best First Book, Fiction
Best Cover, Fiction
Awarded by the IBPA (2020)

2020 Notable Indie, Top 100 - Best Indie Book Awards, Shelf Unbound

Finalist, Literary Fiction
14th Annual National Indie Excellence Awards (2020)

A Man of Honor tells the fictional tale of how one man’s oath gave birth to the legend of Hamlet.

BLURB

How far would you go to keep a deathbed promise?

Surrounded by the bodies of slain monarchs, a dying prince extracts a promise from his friend, Horatio: "Tell my story."

Rival kings of warring nations strive to lay claim to the throne, now vacant, but what will happen to the people who live there, at Helsingør's Krogen Castle? How will Horatio preserve his honor and the prince's legacy while surviving this murderous kingdom and the men who would rule it?

Despite the odds and threats against him, Horatio persists, weaving the story of his dear friend into the fabric of one of their oldest and most revered medieval texts.

But when a nefarious Spaniard thwarts his plans, Horatio must once again risk everything to fulfill his oath.

With the help of some unexpected allies in the form of Margrete, a courageous lady-in-waiting, and Lanier, a disgraced French nobleman, Horatio undertakes this perilous quest that will lead him on a journey none of them could have ever predicted, to a place none of them ever thought they would see.

And after their hard-fought journey will it all be for naught?

Will Hamlet's glory be Horatio's downfall?

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Praise

"Like a train, A MAN OF HONOR's narrative builds speed and takes off into an often gripping adventure of love,war, and discovery. Author J.A. Nelson's novel follows in the tradition of historical fiction. Nelson creates a beautiful but terrifying sixteenth century where numerous factions struggle for power and influence. The main characters are loyal but fallible, and the reader identifies with their struggle to keep moving forward--to finish what they've started.... Nelson has developed a timeless story.... A MAN OF HONOR may be set in a distant time and place, but Horatio's search for the truth about his late friend, Hamlet, is an internal journey of discovery to which many readers will relate." - IndieReader Reviews

"With its literary flourishes and exciting scenes, A Man of Honor addresses ethical questions in fascinating ways....Setting and moods...capture the flavor of Nordic sagas.... A literary novel featuring taut action and strong characters who address questions about the nature of integrity." - Clarion Reviews

"The story of Hamlet survives, truthfully told.... Horatio is the perfect character to carry on Hamlet's story.... An intriguing twist.... Among the pages of an adventure is a story of one man's commitment to his sense of honor and duty, as well as the importance and worth of legends." - The US Review

EXCERPT

From Margrete’s arms I took the Gesta Danorum and leapt back at Cristiern. I raised the volume and, summoning every drop of strength in me, smashed that book across the back of Cristiern’s head.

Cristiern tumbled face-forward and lay still. I stood over the tyrant. “Consider that my delivery of your trophy.”

Lanier reached up to me. I pulled his hand to help him stand. Then he drew the sword from Willem’s upright body. It crumpled. Lanier strode to Cristiern lying facedown. Standing over him, Lanier raised the blade high, double-handed.

“Stop,” Margrete cried.

“Don’t,” I told him.

Lanier hesitated. He looked sharply at me, then at her. “We must be certain he is dead.”

Margrete implored, “We must not kill a king. God forbids it.”

The blade point hovered above Cristiern’s head, rotated with Lanier’s tightening grip. He said, “Perhaps God intends this man’s death, mademoiselle. Cristiern is not my king.” Lanier’s fists rose higher for better leverage.

“Only God may determine a king’s fate. He may be dead. Do not desecrate the body.” Margrete reached for Lanier’s arm. “Our souls will perish.”

I said, “This act would be neither defense nor accident. We’d never be absolved.”

“Too late for me. God condemned me long ago.”

Margrete said, “Already we have committed the sin of treason against this king.”

“Exactement. And he killed Fortinbras.”

Margrete cried, “We must not kill a king.”

Lanier replied, “Hamlet did.”

Margrete’s pointed finger shook at Lanier. “And see what befell him. Cristiern, too, will receive his own punishment from God.”

I gripped Lanier’s shoulder. “If you won’t protect your soul, at least don’t surrender your honor.”

Lanier’s raised arms, holding the sword, slackened. He lowered the blade, stepped back from the body, and wiped his brow. He pointed at the Gesta Danorum in my arms. “That book had better be worth our jeopardy.”

“It is.”

Lanier tugged loose his cape’s ties. He tossed it to me. “Swaddle your child.”

“Thank you.” I wrapped the Gesta Danorum and held the bundle tightly.

“Please tell me,” Margrete said as she walked a circle around Cristiern’s still body, lying face downward and watched him for movement. “Did you finish writing?”

“I did,” I said and allowed a little relief to wash over me. My belly rumbled with hunger, but we had no time to scavenge for food.

Cristiern stirred. Alarmed, we jumped back.

Margrete whispered, “The stables. Follow me.”

She soared down the muniment tower stairs, pausing only to clamber over the small bombard cannon discarded there. Lanier, grasping Willem’s sword, and I, carrying our treasure, flew after her. We passed through the counting room, then hesitated at its yawning threshold. We listened for soldiers. Detecting none, we ran into the vaulted passageway and nearly tripped over several dead nobles and a few soldiers beside the fallen door.

At the sight Margrete moaned, “Too much death.” She bent and vomited. Her rancid gut stink nearly made me wretch. Lanier turned away and belched.

Margrete wiped her mouth. “You have never seen a lady spew?”

“No.” We gagged.

“Precious men. Hold fast your skirts and follow me.”

She led our loping gait out the vaulted passageway onto the west-end patch of the killing field. We followed the curving fortress’s wall. Buoyed by the absence of soldiers, our pace grew to a sprint. However, when the wall straightened into a long stretch of masonry, we saw at its distant end a mass of armored men.

We stumbled to a halt.

Like nailheads struck by a single mallet, in unison the helmets pivoted in our direction. Then the devils ran toward us. Their shaking chain mail made lightning from sunlight.

We turned about and dashed, retracing our path along the curving wall. Beside me Lanier, carrying the sword, swung his other arm to pump breath into his barrel breast. He gasped, “Where now?”

“The passages to the underground tunnels,” said Margrete. She ran in bare feet, slinging her slippers in both hands to race ahead.

We ran into the vaulted passageway. I expected that we would pass the corpses strewn below the doorless arch to the counting room, enter the main corridor, and then reach the passages and tunnels leading to the stables.

However, before us, in the throat of the vaulted passageway, stood a figure, his feet planted wide. He pointed a sleek hand cannon at us.

Author Info

J. A. Nelson’s passion for exploring connections between history, literature, and evidence in written texts has shaped her life—from a BA (Occidental College) and MA (The George Washington University) in cultural studies to a two-decade career at the National Archives of the United States, working with historical documentary treasures and helping people access unique stories in those records. Ms. Nelson is a native of Culver City, CA, a Los Angeles suburb. She lives with her husband in Northern Virginia. A Man of Honor, or Horatio’s Confessions is her debut novel.