Set in Scotland in the year 912AD, the collection starts with a scene-setting prologue to introduce most of the main characters, then each subsequent story tells of what happened next from the POV of one of the featured couples. The stories are all erotic, featuring nine battle-hardened Nordic warriors and the feisty Pictish women who strike an incredible bargain with the fierce marauders who pile out of their dragonships intent upon ransacking a defenseless, isolated village.
The set is only available on Amazon
Here's the blurb:
NINE CONQUERING REASONS
TO SURRENDER
We’ve sworn
our protection
Sworn to
defend them in this savage wilderness
We’ll show
them what it means to be loved by a Viking
What it means
to be pleasured in a warrior’s bed
We are their
masters, but only they can tame us
Can raging
storms of fear and passion transform into enduring devotion?
DARE TO ENTER
OUR WORLD
Breathtaking.
Thrilling. Seductive
Brandr by Ashe
Barker
Steinn by Lily Harlem
Jerrik by Felicity
Brandon
Magnus by Emmanuelle
de Maupassant
Graeme by Gianna
Simone
Thorolf by Vanessa
Brooks
Garth by Sassa
Daniels
Ragnor by Sky
Purington
Bjorn by Jane
Burrelli
Battle-hardened and broad-chested, with arms strong enough
to sweep you off your feet, these warriors are pure muscle, with shoulders
built for carrying you to bed.
A
tiny Scottish settlement at the mercy of its enemies.
A
harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides.
Delivered
into Viking hands, the brides of Achnaryrie now belong to their conquering
masters but, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also
surrender their hearts?
The
Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but
each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will
not go to safeguard the woman he loves.
Against
the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland, join these indomitable heroes and
intrepid heroines as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion
can transform into enduring devotion.
And a snippet from the Prologue (which I wrote)
Bewildered, anguished, Eithne
stumbled from their cottage. The village was already deserted, eerily silent
but for the cry of seabirds as they swooped over the nearby cliffs. Gathering
up the skirts of her tunic, Eithne ran to the edge of the clearing from where
she could gain a view of the sea below. Her heart lurched at the sight of three
longships, in full sail, skimming the waves as they headed straight for the
inlet closest to Achnaryrie. There could be no mistaking their destination, nor
their murderous intent.
Each vessel thronged with men. She
estimated perhaps forty in total. All would be hardened, fierce warriors,
bloodthirsty, ready to slaughter, to maim, to rape and to destroy. She had
heard the tales. She knew full well the savage ferocity of these Nordic
raiders. Their reputation went before them.
The Vikings were merciless, murdering
barbarians. And they were here.
With a despairing sob, Eithne turned
from the sight below. She could still run, might be able to make it into the
depths of the forest before the first of the raiders reached the village. She
had perhaps a few minutes…
“We will fight them. Let them come. I
shall be ready.”
Eithne started. Her sister by
marriage had appeared from nowhere but now dashed to her side. Despite the
hopelessness of their situation, she could not help but admire Rhiannon’s
courage and determination. Clad in a leather tunic and wool trousers, and
wearing knee-length boots, Rhiannon was dressed for battle. She held Alpin’s
sword, the weapon raised and ready.
“It is no good,” Eithne attempted to
reason with the headstrong young woman. “There are at least two score of them…”
“So we should simply surrender? Allow
them to steal what is ours?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Or do you prefer to turn and flee as
the rest have already done?”
“No, but I do not see—”
“Then what else is there? What else
can we do? We surrender, or we flee, or we stand and fight. I prefer to fight.”
“Rhiannon…”
“So, do you have a better plan?”
“I… I suggest we…”
Rhiannon brandished her sword at an
enemy she could not yet see. “Better to die on our feet, fighting to defend
what is ours.”
“No.” Eithne tilted her chin up.
Determination and dire hopelessness lent her courage and clarity. “I care not
for any of those solutions. We shall not surrender, nor shall we flee. I do not
doubt your skill or your courage, but this is an unequal contest, and we cannot
win. To take up arms against men such as them would lead to certain death.”
“Better to die with honour—”
“Better still not to die at all. I have
another idea. We shall negotiate.”
Rhiannon gaped at her. “Are you quite
mad? You would have more success seeking to bargain with a wildcat, or that
wolf which Ailsa insists upon keeping.”
“They are men, not animals. They will
listen to reason.”
“That is a matter of opinion. I still
say—”
“For once, Rhiannon, please, just do
as you are told. Put down that weapon and go hide with the others. I shall go
and speak with these…these…Norsemen.”
“You are bent on this madness?”
“It is the only way…”
“Then, if you insist upon facing
them, I shall be at your side. I consider this a foolhardy notion, but I will
not let you go alone.”
Despite Rhiannon’s belligerent tone,
Eithne had never been more pleased to have her at her side. Theirs was not an
easy relationship, it never had been, but Eithne loved her sister by marriage
and was proud of her courage. “Ah, my sister. I see your father in you, and
your brother. I shall be glad to have you with me, but by all that is holy, you
must keep quiet and let me do the talking.” Eithne turned and dashed towards
the path leading down into the narrow cove where the Vikings’ ships already
swooped in towards the beach. “And put that damned sword away before someone
gets hurt.”
“You are muttering to yourself. What
are you saying?” Rhiannon scrambled behind Eithne down the cliff path.
“I am trying to recall a few words of
Norse. There were Nordic settlers close to my childhood home on Orkney, and I
picked up a few phrases. I thought if I were to greet them cordially…”
“You imagine you might resolve this
situation by wishing them a pleasant morning and discussing the weather?”
Eithne did not blame Rhiannon for
being incredulous. She could barely believe it herself. But if words were to be
her weapons, she would do her best to assemble the best ones.
They emerged from the path onto the
sand and shingle, at the same instant that the leading dragon ship swept onto
the beach. Already the first of the warriors were leaping over the sides into
the surf, wading ashore.
“Wait here,” Eithne commanded. “And
say nothing.”
She stepped forward. Alone.
Ah, me late faither from Glesga had the gift of gab from his mither's side--Northern Irish. He'd tell stories of long ago, like when Hadrian of Rome built his wall, and make it sound like he was there, toting bricks.
ReplyDeleteHe used to tell the story of how the Vikings would look at each other regularly, asking what there was to do on a boring afternoon. They'd all agree that sailing over to rape and pillage in Scotland was a wonderful idea...then they would. They did this for many a year. Until the one time when they arrived and starting walking up over the hill to get to the village, wearing their horned helmets. When what should they see coming up the other side of the hill FROM the village, but other men wearing horned helmets. Seems their seed had grown into men themselves, and they weren't going to allow this raping and pillaging of their womenfolk to continue. According to me faither, that's when the Vikings decided to find another place to get their jollies. And that's part of why Scottish men have such ferocity bred into them. True? I cannae say. But a good story!
An excellent tale. Thank you for sharing it with us.
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