A.R. Von's Blog, page 49

Character interview & Giveaway with authors Julie Hayes & M.A. Church of Be My Alien

Blurb:  
Reed Hatcher’s life is work, work, work. He owns a successful men’s boutique in New York City, but a love life is out of the question—for many reasons. It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and business is brisk. On an unexpected visit to the Empire State Building, a sexy man literally falls into Reed’s lap. His name is Taz and he’s just been dumped by his date. One look and Reed is hooked. He offers to buy Taz some coffee and they leave together.Reed is attracted to Taz and takes him home to his apartment. But Reed discovers there’s more to Taz than he realized—especially when Taz’s stripes begin to show. And he has a tail? Turns out Taz is not quite like Reed. In fact, he comes from another planet, far far away, and he’s only on Earth for a vacation.Reed never believed in aliens before, but he’s facing one now, and dear God, what is he going to do? Just when he decides he loves Taz and together they can handle anything, the alien that dumped Taz decides he wants him back and steals him away.Can Reed live with the memory of what he almost had, and the love he found and lost? How can he ever face the moonlit skies again?

Excerpt:          “Are you okay? Hello?”Reed dragged his mind away from those sexy green eyes. “Ah, huh? What?”“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall on top of you like that. You see, it was like this. I was pushed, and you just happened to be there and….” The stranger grinned at Reed. “And down we went.”Reed shifted under the body lying so contentedly on top of him. Hell’s bells, the guy fit against him perfectly. From the feel of things, they were both close to the same height. Which also meant certain things were… aligned. “Oh yeah, I’m okay. Banged my head a little, but I’m fine.”The stranger bit his bottom lip, his teeth worrying the tender skin. Reed debated slamming his head against the floor a few more times in the hopes of rattling his brain back to normal as the stranger rolled off him.“I really am sorry.”“No harm done.” Reed sat up and looked at the guy once again. Well, not much harm, anyway. His libido just had to pick now to perk up, didn’t it? But damn, this guy was sexy. Reed struggled to his feet and held his hand out to the man still on the floor, looking up at him. The guy took his hand and let Reed pull him up. “Name’s Reed. Are you okay?”“Hi, Reed!” The guy hopped to his feet in a single, lithe movement, as if it was the most….world. “My name is Taz. Nice to meet you, and yes, I am.”For a moment there was a flash in the guy’s eyes that belied his statement. “Good, that’s good. Glad to hear it. Well, I guess I’d better be going—”A forlorn expression crossed Taz’s face and his pretty eyes clouded. “Oh.”  Reed hesitated. There was something about the guy that pulled at him. When was the last time he’d felt that pull? Way too long ago. Taz was cute, sure. But there was this look of hurt. Dammit, Taz just looked so lost. Insane as it was, he wanted to make it all better.




Thanks so much for having us here today! Oh wait, who are we, I can hear some of you ask? Let me back up a mo and start again.
I’m Julie Lynn Hayes, she’s M.A. Church, heretofore to be known as Michelle. Just call me Julie. We’re here today to talk about our first joint project, Be My Alien, which will be released by Dreamspinner May 8th. 
Let’s start at the beginning. I totally blame Michelle for hooking me on aliens.
Michelle: *snort* I corrupted her, or so she says.
Julie:  *laughs* That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. It wasn’t until I read your most excellent book, Nighttime Wishes, that I first encountered your fixation on beings from other worlds, and… wait, hold on a second. What are you two doing here?
Reed: Don’t blame me, I was just following Taz. He said we needed to come here, and I guess he’s right. Look, you’re talking about us. That’s a bit cheeky, don’t you think?
Julie: What? Cheeky? Hey, Reed, I was going to say nice things, how does that make us cheeky? Michelle, a little help here?
Michelle: Oh no, don’t drag me into this. Besides, I think you’re doing just fine on your own, Julie.
Julie: Gee, thanks. *sneaks a peek at these two lovely men* Wow, what gorgeous guys we’ve created, I have to admit.
Taz: Reed, I appreciate these two humans and their efforts to talk about us, but I feel that we can handle this ourselves, don’t you?
Reed: Indeed I do. So why don’t you two ladies find something else to do? Maybe go to a strip club or something?
Julie: *look at Michelle, and she shrugs *
Michelle: Well, if they screw this up, it’s on them. I say we go look at pretty men. You’re driving, though.
Julie: *walks out door mumbling under her breath* Don’t I always?
Michelle: *pokes Julie in the back* But you like driving. Am I going to have to listen to this all the way to Atlanta???Purses are grabbed and a door slams shuts.
Reed:  *whispers* Good Lord, are they gone?
Taz: *looks around the corner* Yes, thank the stars. I swear, those two… So… *Taz rubs his hands together, a gleam in his eye* Looks like we got free rein now. You ready to start?”
Reed: Yes, more than ready. They’ve gone about things the wrong way. Did you even hear mention of the title?
Taz: No, not a word.
Reed: *shakes his head* Women!
Taz: *cocks his head and regards Reed* My mother is a woman, Reed.
Reed: *snorts* I know, I met her, remember? So’s mine, by the way, and thanks for asking…
Taz: But I didn’t ask?
Reed: *sighs* It’s just an expression. *mumbles under his breath* Damn, need to get that book. Bad. Hey, babe, where do you think we should start?
Taz: How about like this? *he climbs onto Reed’s lap and lays his head on Reed’s shoulder, purring*
Reed: Oh damn, seriously? *takes a deep breath* I thought we’re here to talk? You know, about us?
Taz: *purrs louder* Go ahead and talk. I can hear you. *begins to rock in Reed’s lap*
Reed: Oh jeez Louise, that’s distracting… *clears throat* Um, okay… we met… we met… oh yeah, it was almost Valentine’s Day. I was working late ‘cause I didn’t have anything better to do. You know how it is when you’re single and it’s been a while… that day means less than nothing.
Taz: It didn’t mean anything to me either.
Reed: Well, to be fair, you never heard of it ‘til you got here.
Taz: Oh yeah, I guess that’s true.  *squirms a bit on Reed’s lap* I’m just lucky I was in the right place at the right time.
Reed: I think I’m the lucky one, babe. That’s what they call karma.
Taz: Karma? What has this to do with driving?
Reed: *groans* Later, I’ll explain later. So anyway, I had to meet a customer at the Empire State Building after work, and that’s where I met Taz. He knocked me off my feet, literally.
Taz: What can I say, you caught my attention? My night hadn’t been going very well. I had just been dumped, then I saw you. I really didn’t mean to knock you down, you know.
Reed: Oh, I wasn’t complaining. I ended up on the floor with an arm full of sexy male. *blush* Well, at the time I thought I had an arm full of sexy male. Little did I know just what I was holding.
Taz: *giggle* You should’ve seen the look on your face the first time my stripes showed up! I mean, you freaked out, but still, for a second there… I don’t have the words!
Reed: *shakes head* It was probably the same kind of shocked look I had when that tail of yours put in an appearance.
Taz: *rubs cheek against Reed’s jaw* That reminds me, when are you going to let me—
Reed: Whoa now. Let’s not go there, babe. You give that away, Julie and Michelle will both want to skin you. It’ll be a race to see which one of them gets you.
Taz: Silly women. Neither one of them gets me. I’m all yours… *licks his way up Reed’s neck*
Reed: All mine, you’re right. Um, um…. Oh yeah, the title. Be My Alien. Pretty cute, don’t you think?
Taz: Mmhmmm, you’re very cute.
Reed: Not me, the title *blushes*
Taz: Oh, that’s not bad. Those two earth women seem to be able to put words together rather nicely, don’t they?
Reed: Better than me at times. Oh babe, you gotta quit that, or I might…
Taz: I’m wearing those special—
Reed: Oh lord, from the shop? *groans* Oh yes, my shop. I have my own business, I should mention that. A Touch of Class. Here in New York. I mean there… I mean… Taz, please be careful, you’re right over my—Taz: I know, Reed…  I know… *silences him with a kiss*
Taz: Oh yes. We told them how we met. Did we tell them about ourselves though?
Reed: What do you mean?
Taz: Well, I’m from the planet Trygos, the most important planet in the Trygos galaxy, and only one of two planets capable of sustaining life. The other planet is Haatmiess. When Trygosheans put someone down, they say they’re like a Haatmiess, which is considered a major insult. My full name is Fabrintazo, Taz for short. I’m about 5'11" in your earth measurements  and I have a wiry, muscular build. My hair is a mixture of red and orange and brown and it’s long and luxurious, and reaches below my shoulders.
Reed: That’s very true. He often twists it into a braid and lets it flow loose over his back. He’s very acrobatic and he loves heights. Which scared the hell out of me at one point in the book. Taz has cat green eyes and purrs when he's pleased. *smiles* I make him purr often.
Taz: Yes, you do. Reed’s full name is Reed Hatcher and he’s about my height and build. He has very light brown hair that tends to bleach out in the warmer months and he has the most beautiful hazel eyes. Oh! And he has this cute little dimple in his cheek too. The one on his face, not the other one. Though that’s cute, too.
Reed: *blushes* Babe, too much information.
Taz: *grins* And he’s a business owner, too. A very important man in his world.  *nods head* And in his business, he has a back room that sells very special things. I like the back room.
Reed: I actually have a degree in elementary education, but I never taught. My parents moved to Florida and I ended up here in New York.
Taz: Thank the stars you did! *frowns* Should we tell them about Vorlod?
Reed: What’s to tell? The bastard’s no longer here on Earth and can’t bother you anymore.
Taz: Well, he was the reason I was here on Earth to begin with.
Reed: We should save that story, though, don’t you think? Can’t spill all the beans, now can we?
Taz: *glances around the floor* I don’t think we spilled anything.
Reed: *rolls his eyes* You’re right, we didn’t. What was I thinking?
Taz: *eyes him suspiciously* Are you having fun with me?
Reed: Not yet, babe, but I intend to, I promise you.
Taz: *grins even broader, stripes appearing on his neck* Then let’s go now and, how did you put it, avoid the rush hour?
Reed: *tries not to laugh* Close enough. *fastens their lips together, he rises, Taz clinging to him, and they make their way from the room. ** * * *Hope y’all enjoyed meeting the characters from Be My Alien!       
                        Author bio:M.A. Church lives in the southern United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football, racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.But her most beloved hobby is reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library. Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she would write a book. By sheer chance she stumbled across a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching, she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.
My links:Blog http://machurch00.blogspot.com Twitter @nomoretears00Facebook: M.A. Church http://www.facebook.com/pages/MA-Chur...Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5141393.M_A_Church
Publishers:Dreamspinner: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_650Romance First Publishing: www.rfppublishing.comChangeling Press: http://www.changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=177Storm Moon: http://www.stormmoonpress.com/authors/MA-Church.aspx

Author Bio:Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind. Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all.  Her other published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing and No Boundaries Press, and coming soon with both Extasy Books and Torquere Press. She has also begun to self-publish and is an editor at MuseitUp.  
My links:Blog  http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.comTwitter @Shelley_runyonFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/julie.l.haye... Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3442231.Julie_Lynn_Hayes
Publishers:Museit Up Publishing:  http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.phpDreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_222eXtasy Books http://www.extasybooks.com/  (coming soon)Torquere Press http://torquerepress.com/  (coming soon)




a Rafflecopter giveaway

Review Be My Alien (Moonlit Skies #1) By Julie Lynn Hays and M.A. Church

"Be My Alien" Author: Julie Lynn Hayes and M.A. ChurchGenre: Paranormal RomancePages: 100Source: Author in exchange for an honest review.Published: May 8, 2013Author's Website Julie Hayes M.A. Church
Buy Links: Amazon


Goodreads Blurb:A man too busy for love…

Reed owns an upscale men’s boutique with a naughty back room. While making a late delivery to a client, he runs into Taz.

A man on a disastrous date…

When Taz agreed to come to Earth on a date, he didn’t expect to be dumped and left with no way home. Then he falls into Reed’s arms—literally.

A coffee date soon becomes a trip back to Reed’s apartment. But when Taz’s stripes begin to show, Reed discovers Taz comes from a planet far, far away.

Reed never believed aliens existed, but he’s facing one now. What in the world is he going to do?

My Review:A short, sweet and fun sci-fi paranormal M/M romance that introduces us to a new breed of alien that will be sure to linger in your mind for some time to come. A definite fun escape for any fans of the genre.
Taz is visiting earth on a date. Left alone to fend for himself, he cannot help but absorb and enjoy all earth’s beauty. Having no choice but to drift away in thought, he quickly finds himself out of the awkward situation and in a much more…comfortable one that he never wants to leave!
Reed is a 30 year old shop owner that just does not make the time to date or enjoy any of life’s pleasures. One evening while making a delivery, he finds himself taken by this sexy man that has LITERALLY landed on top of him. He also cannot help but wonder if the man feels the same way towards him.
This is the first book of the Moonlit Skies series and a great start! I find my interest peeked at its very highest and I am looking forward to more. I’m hoping the authors plan to give us more of Taz and Reed. Their relationship bloomed rather quickly and I’d love to know how it progressed :)




Overall Rating 3.5


Sex Rating of 4 Dragon Flame

Wednesday Briefs: Lady #3 by A.R. Von

Hello everyone and welcome to Wednesday Briefs Flash Fiction. I was given many options to inspire a Brief. But I chose to go with the one new below for this week along with the phrase "He touched me in a way nobody ever had...". I hope you enjoy the third addition to "LADY" and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts :)
For those of you that did not read the prior week's portions and would like to. Click HERE for part 1 of Lady & HERE for part 2.




Oh no! What am I to do now? The sun has risen to its highest point of the day. I never stay as long as I have and now he has seen me. I’m supposed to remain unseen by the eyes of humans. It is the one rule I’ve always obeyed from my parents. There are humans that hunt, hurt and abuse us. Use our horns, flesh and blood for weapons, magic or trophies.
It’s happened so much throughout the years and there are only a hundred or so left of us now throughout the world. My family and I are the very last of the pure white unicorns, according to the trees and other creatures of the forest. So, we assume there are only twelve of us left in existence.
I move as quickly as my four legs can take me. My movements are a bit clumsy because of the position I’m in. I break my hoof free from a tangle of heather, but pause when I hear his voice asking me to halt. There is power behind his words. I feel as if I have no choice but to listen. To do what he asks of me.
He then holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, trying to show me he’s not going to hurt me and then tells me as much. I’m torn between running and staying in place, so I can be near him for even a little longer on this day. I know deep within, he would do me no harm. But what good is staying, if I cannot communicate with him as he can with me. I give a whinny and swish my tale, trying to show him I’m listening. 
He takes one step nearer and looks at me in awe. “Are you injured little one? I can help you…heal you if needed.”
I tilt my head to the side in amazement of this male. I am uninjured of course. But his honest concern warms my heart. He not only has appeal to me on the outside which causes me desire like I’ve never known. His heart and soul are beyond beautiful on the inside as well. This only makes me yearn for him more, a yearning to be the woman I am in when in my dream paradise. I know I am no good to him in this form though—I am not a woman.
With this thought, I take two steps back and slowly angle my body in the direction I need to go. 
He takes a few steps closer “Please, do not go. I am a male of good, the whitest of magic and purest intent. The darkness within me is not harmful to others. Only to me. I am Dezso and I merely want to glance at the beauty and bask in your pureness. You’re very lovely and I’ve never laid eyes on one such as you before. You are quite wondrous.”
Despite his words, I stand my ground. Twitching my tall but keeping my hooves still. I’m amazed that he even speaks to me and he thinks me beautiful as well. He’s so close now I can smell him. I breathe deep and let out a blow which causes his hair to ruffle and him to smile. I cannot smile, so instead I give my head a slight shake and show off my mane. Being careful not to catch his precious flesh with my horn. I would love for him to touch me. He’s not done so in my dreams and I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have him caress me. Even if only for a brief moment.
Feeling braver than I ever have, I take a step forward, let loose a nicker and nudge him with my snout. Being sure to soak up his scent and absorb it into memory. His warmth feels divine, even through my coat—better than I’ve ever imagined. 
He laughs huskily and then he touches me in a way nobody ever has. A soft caress. Uncertain almost, as if he’s afraid he might hurt me in some way. Then, he gets braver and strokes my mane.
If I were a feline I would purr in contentment.
All the while, he’s telling me how beautiful I am. How soft, clean and amazing.
I continue to stand there and allow his touch. Just swooshing my tail every once in a while, like I would normally do when staying still. I wish I could speak to him. Thank him and tell him who I am. But that’s impossible. It will always be…
Just as I am about to lick his neck…to get a real taste, a different sound comes from behind us. I perk my ears to listen. It’s a short, brief whoosh accompanied by footfalls. I can tell whatever it is, only has two feet and is moving swiftly in our direction. I lift my head and let out a snort, my attempt to warn him that danger is near. I need to go, now and quickly. I step back, intending to take off in the opposite direction. 
He whispers, “Be safe.” Then turns toward where he has left his clothing to quickly dress. 
I pause briefly to glance back and see a man in robes, walking toward Dezso. His aura is dark. The darkest I’ve ever seen. I fear of what will happen. Is he a danger? Why has he come here to our special place?
“Who are you and why have you come?” Dezso asks.
“I am known as Than. Most call me Death and I am here to claim one of pure light. A pure soul and even purer heart. I have come for a majestic being known as the unicorn.”
To be continued...

(This story continues to be dedicated to my one and only sister, my Pookie. Her love of unicorns from when we were tots is what inspired me to write it. Love you my sissy!)
Be sure to visit the other Wednesday Briefs:


Victoria Adams   Lily Sawyer     Cia Nordwell     Andrew Gordon Renee Stevens Michael Mandrake   MA Church    Julie Lynn HayesNephylim 

The Vikings are back in Week 7/Chapter 7 of Silver and Spice by Maria MacAuley!

Hello friends/followers! Welcome to week 7/chapter 7 of  Maria MacAuley's Silver & Spice. Now we present to you another portion of a very exciting, romantic and all-around great story.  We will be posting a chapter for you to enjoy each week until the story's end. We are looking forward to comments, feelings, thoughts, etc. of what you think for each portion posted. So please be sure to leave a comment in the comments section :)

Now I present to you... Silver and Spice!

View Prologue and chapter 1 HERE, chapter 2 HERE,  chapter 3 HERE,  chapter 4 HERE, chapter 5 HERE, chapter 6 HERE


Chapter 7
Roisin did not try to hide her tears.  Now in private, she did not have to be the Conall’s daughter, strong and unafraid.  The week’s voyage had ended in a curiously chaste way.  So far these Vikings had been neither the bloodthirsty savages nor ravishers of maidens that were the scourge of the coasts and waterways.  Her kind stoic foster sister had easily succumbed to Erik, and he to Ciara.  Kristr did not look at her with lust or longing, but her own feelings confused her.  She had initially despised being near him, but worried  when he left her alone in Alfhilde‘s hall.  Now here in Halsrafjord, she was described as his guest, albeit one with no way of under-staying, rather than over –staying her welcome.  She rubbed her temples, trying to erase the memories of the past week, and finally, slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Kristr stooped under the low lintel of the sweat lodge to find Erik already there.  There was a single fish-oil lamp flickering in the corner, most of the light cast from the embers of the fire.  He threw some water on the stones, that circled the flames, the crackle and hiss bringing Erik out of his warmth induced haze.
‘How is your guest faring in your hall?’  Erik didn’t open his eyes.
‘She hates me.  And why would she not?  I took her from her home.’  On his haunches, he poked the fire and flicked more water upon the hearth, the bubbles dancing and spitting on the stones.  How strange that the two women reacted so differently to their circumstances. 
Ciara had been the maiden who had fainted in terror and had woken up only to be carried onto a ship in a stranger’s arms. Roisin had been awake and recalled every detail of her abduction. He remembered every detail too.  His initial reaction was anger, fuelled by revenge against MacRonan, gradually followed by tolerance, admiration and affection.  The last two he could have done without. It was not part of the plan. Her beauty was striking, and her features and size were unlike Viking women, but, then again, he did not look like a Norseman himself.  Her sharp tongue and willingness to battle wits was enticing, as well as her gentle-woman manners when under Gertrude’s care in the bath house.  No wonder MacRonan had wanted her as a wife.  No way would he surrender Roisin to the greedy fool now. 
‘She does not hate you brother.’  Erik murmured, stretching his long lean body out over the oak bench, smooth from years of use.  ‘She is just adjusting to her circumstances.  Her sister will help her to adapt.’ 
‘If the gods had ever mislaid a child with the wrong race of people, it is your Ciara.’
‘My Ciara.’  Erik sighed contentedly.  ‘My own Norse goddess.’  
Kristr stood up and eased himself onto the opposite bench.  His own Norse goddess was not showering him with blessings - yet.
 oooOOOooo Photo credit: (www.scribblingseaserpent.blogspot.co.uk)
When Kristr returned,  Roisin was curled up on the furs, her beautiful face stained with tears, her waist length hair unbound, curling over her slender back. He paused at the curtain, taking in every detail; the thinly woven linen of her apron dress falling over the dainty mounds of her breasts as her chest rose and fell with each breath, the fine wool of the dress flowing over her sweetly curved behind. For the first time since he had lost his mother, new emotions were arising in him. He wanted to feel close to this woman, to make love to her, to feel her hands on his skin. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and she woke with a start.

'Easy, easy, I did not mean to frighten you,' he said softly as he looked into her huge green eyes, eyelashes clumped together with tears. Cupping her head with his hands and running his thumbs gently across her face, he brushed the remaining drops away.
'These past few days have brought many changes for you, but know that whilst you are here, I will teach you the language so that you may engage with the people of the steading. You can learn about our way of life. I will do everything in my power to protect you.'
She lowered her gaze and whispered, 'But who will protect me from you?'
He gently raised her head, to look her in the eye again. 'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I cannot deny I want you, but not until you want me too.' He circled her cheeks. 'And in light of our first meeting, I shall teach you how to use a dagger to offer you some protection from harm. Tis not appropriate that all your care is left in the hands of another.' Unless she was a Valkryie, she would have been subdued by Kristr regardless on that fateful day. By giving her some ownership of her own protection it would increase her confidence and trust in him.
Offering her his hand she stood up, and with interest he watched as she adjusted her new silver brooches, straightened her dress, and took a deep breath, composing herself after her emotional release.
 Pulling her close in an indulgent embrace, Kristr inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. She did not resist.  Holding her for a moment he finally said, 'The meal in our honour is about to begin.'  He motioned to the bed.  ‘Sit and I shall fix your braid. She didn't argue as he skillfully combed her hair and tidied it into a long braid down to the middle of her back. He turned her around, and smoothing his hands over the crown of her head, he admired his handiwork with a grin, a tug on the plait and a nod of approval.

He proferred his arm, and linking hers with his, they left for the main hall.


Kristr was expecting a feast and a crowd, but there must have been one hundred people in the hall, sitting at trestle tables on benches that lined the wattle and daub walls. The hearth in the middle of the floor burned brightly, casting dancing shadows over the assembly.  Six huge beams held up the rafters and a colourful shield was displayed on each pole.
As they walked toward the low dais at the top of the hall, silence fell on the chattering crowd. Kerik stood up, and raising his horn in toast, shouted, 'Fortune favours us, my sons have returned home!' The mass of people roared in approval. Glossing over the truth a little, to save the both the blushes of his sons' hostages, and the memory of his own initial encounter with his beloved Aisling, he added, 'and they have brought sweet Irish maidens to add more beauty to our land!'
All eyes turned to Roisin, and holding on to him tightly, she looked up to Kristr in confusion. 'All is well, my father has just welcomed us home. We Vikings can be a noisy lot when we have enjoyed too much mead.' The fact that she had turned to him in her fear, had not gone unnoticed.
At their table, he sat down next to her whilst a trencher of boar, pheasant, cooked nettles and turnip was set before them. She took the liberty of using a dirk, and cut two tranches of barley bread from the loaf in front of them, handing him a piece. His grey eyes twinkled silver in the firelight. She was beginning to trust him because she wanted to, not because she had to do so.

oooOOOooo
Photo credit (http://www.pbase.com/icicle50/image/127846339)


True to his word, the harbour master had contacted Johann O’Toole to tell him that the men from Donegal had docked.  The previous week, when he had pushed Kristr’s longship from the shallows, he knew he would have to find out more about MacRonan.  That mission was accomplished.  There was no need for disguises here. MacRonan's  sinister statements  had told him that there was more at stake now than a couple of scraps of silver. When Johann had seen the crushed gold necklace he knew who owned it, and who had given it as a gift.
During their years as foster brothers on the Shetland Jarlshof, Kristr and Johann had been close friends, brothers in all but blood.  Alfhilde had singled Kristr out, citing his potential, and every boy on Jarlshof knew what punishment waited those who could not meet Alfhilde's exacting standards. Kristr had spoken often to Johann of the pain of losing his mother so violently and of Alfhilde's beatings for the tiniest mistake in his Greek or Latin translations. During their many conversations as youths and later as men, Kristr had confided what had happened during those years, how he felt he had deserved to be punished for not saving his mother, and he started to see Alfhilde, not as a mother, but as a mentor and later as a lover.  He did not seem to be able to escape her attentions, even with the urging of his brother, Erik.    When he saw the ruined jewelry, Johann knew that Alfhilde was behind it, but her jealousy of Kristr's new love would never bring him back into her bony arms.

Dressed in the breeches, short kirtle and cloak of an Irishman, he walked into the ale house. There was no doubt which man was Conall of Dun-na-Shee. . He looked like a fine handsome man who had aged overnight, as if by the curse of a banshee. The man with him did not look much better, but with anger etched on their faces rather than sorrow.
Strolling over to greet them in the traditional Irish manner he said, 'God be with you, travellers from the North of this fair Island. My name is Johann O’Toole and I wish to speak with you on a matter of some importance.'
Conall looked up, eyes narrowing 'What do you know of my business?' Johann, as usual, was not perturbed by the man's menacing tone.
'If you would be so noble as to let me speak, I shall then address any issue you may have.'Looking to Diarmuid, and back to Johann, through gritted teeth, Conall snarled 'Agreed. Speak.'
'I was with Kristr and Erik Halsrason when they took your blood daughter and your foster child.' Drawing his sword Conall jumped to his feet intending to run the man through. Calm as ever, Johann didn't move. 'Please, sit down. You agreed to hear my tale. If you have not had satisfaction, then you can try to best me with your sword. But all that will do is leave your daughter fatherless.' Conall reluctantly sat down. His skill would be hampered by his rage.
'Kristr and Erik have taken the women to Scandinavia, not Dubh Linn as you probably have expected. They will be safe there, especially as I feel that young Erik has taken quite a shine to Ciara.' Johan bounced his eyebrows but was met with cold stares from the two men.
'Those barbarians have taken my daughters for another man's crimes!' Conall spat in outrage. 'MacRonan will not pay silver for them, and my land does not have that kind of wealth, since the pillage of the monasteries at Bangor and Devenish. Even by going to all the chieftains in Ulster I shall not be able to gather that amount of coin in four seasons!'
'And that is the least of your problems. I have reason to believe that on their travels back to their own land, Kristr's boat stopped off with an acquaintance of his.' Johann had to tread carefully. 'This acquaintance, who has a tendency to jealousy, felt that Kristr was falling in love with Roisin, and has communicated same to MacRonan, who would covet anything that belongs to Kristr.'Conall’s face fell. 'So even if I can come for my daughter and pay the silver, she may still fall into MacRonan's hands, for this ... acquaintance?'
Johann nodded. 'I do not yet know why MacRonan wants to ruin Kristr, but I shall eventually find out.'
Conall’s head fell into his hands.   Johann O’Toole saw a man who felt he had failed those who had depended on him. 'So what can I do to help you secure the future of both my daughters?
'I will be making the voyage North within the next sennight. I can bring news to your daughters that you and their brother are well. It may allay any fears that they have.'
'I shall come too, as will Diarmuid.' Conall’s man grunted his approval. 'If my girls are safe and cared for, I shall return to my rath and plot MacRonan's demise. If they are being mistreated in any way by the Halsrason Vikings, I shall kill them myself.'
'I cannot allow that. You will not be welcomed there.' Johann was resolute. 'Your arrival will be taken as an act of war, unless you can procure the silver as payment. Kristr will not surrender what he believes to be his.'

oooOOOooo Photo credit: (www.scribblingseaserpent.blogspot.co.uk)
As the meal neared its end, Roisin felt a little more relaxed. She wasn't sure if it was the two cups of mead she had, the warmth of the fire after seven days at sea, or the light touch of Kristr's hand on the small of her back. She looked across at Ciara, who was beaming and blushing in delight at whatever sweet words Erik was whispering in her ear. Roisin watched as she playfully smacked his hand away from her breast before leaning in to a lingering kiss. She wondered what would happen to her agreement with Joseph; they would never had shared something so intimate.
The skald stood up to recite the tales of Thor and Odin. With the lilting sounds of his words and the gasps, sighs and laughter of his audience, she cuddled into Kristir's arms as he whispered the translation in her ear, his lips brushing against her skin, his fingers entwining with hers, and closing her eyes dreamily, she felt happier than she had in twelve moons.
As the night came to a close, Kristr picked up a very drowsy Roisin. 'Kristr, I can walk, you don't need to carry me like a babe.'
'Ah, but I want to, my sweetling. Now hush and let me keep my promise to care for you.' He carried her back to her chamber and carefully removed her brooches and apron-dress. Gently tugging the woollen dress over her head, it was taking all his self restraint not to start kissing the pristine white mounds of her breasts, her delicate, dusky nipples erect under her shift. He pulled the furs up over her smooth body, and as he dropped a long kiss on her forehead, her lips parted into a sigh and the sound was as sweet as birdsong to his ears.
'Kristr. My sweet. Thank you.'
'Goodnight, darling Roisin.' He left the chamber, barely able to walk. It was going to be a long night.
oooOOOooo

Roisin woke up the following morning, feeling rested and content. Stretching out to her full length, she wiggled her fingers and toes in a satisfied yawn. She peeked under the furs and blushed when she saw that she was in nothing but her shift, and remembered that Kristr had undressed her the previous evening. Her first Norse feast. She recalled how she had been so close to him as they listened to the magical stories of the skald, how he carried her to her chamber and how he saw her almost nude.
She jumped out of bed, still only in her knee-length shift, and bending over to pick up her dress off the chest, she spun around and ran into Kristr, who was on his way into the chamber. He was naked to the waist and she shrieked when she smacked into his chest face first. She heard him chuckle as the colour rose in her cheeks. She took a step back and stared up at him, her eyes widening as she took in his body.
She had seen boy babies, and small children, but never a man. His shoulders were broad, his arms sculpted with muscle. She felt vulnerable standing looking at him, but had an overwhelming urge to touch his skin, the trail of hair running from his navel to his... she cast her eyes to the ground in shame of her wantonness, of where her eyes and mind had wandered, biting her lip as she tried to regain her composure.
'Easy, sweetling,' he breathed as he raised her chin with his finger. 'Tis fine.'
She stared at the runes inked into his skin on his breast, and she could not resist placing  her hand over the image she let her palm pick up, initially the slight blue-black ridge of the tattoo, secondly the beating of his heart.
'What does the symbol mean?'
‘Dream. My mother's name in Norse.'
'It is beautiful. She is always with you.'
'In death, but not in life.'
'Do you know who took her from you?'
'No. She had pushed me behind her, and I can only recall that he was short, a fat barrel of a man, and a greasy head of hair.' He placed his hand over hers, and pulling her close with the other, he bent his forehead to hers so that they touched. 'Dear sweet Roisin, I will wait for you for ever.'

For ever was a long time.  She was not sure how long she would remain a maiden around this man.

Thanks for the painting are given to E Paterson
Viking home photo: http://www.pbase.com/icicle50
Other 2 photos: www.scribblingseaserpent.blogspot.co.uk






Bio
Maria MacAuley is from Derry, Ireland and has a degree in Celtic Languages. She is married to the love of her life, and they live in relative peace with two cats.

She has a secret wish that her husband will investigate his Nordic family tree further and whisk her off on a longboat to Hammerfest to view the Northern Lights.

If Maria were to choose her favourite tense, it should be the subjunctive, and is always keen to discuss same over a pint of Guinness.
email: banbha@hotmail.com




~*"No portion of this story may be copied or shared without the direct permission of the author."*~

Book Spotlight and Giveaway- Andromeda Falling by Kris Norris

Sex, Sci-Fi and Captain James T Kirk ~ Kris Norris

First off, let me thank the beautiful and talented Ava for having me drop by her blog…I swear I come here just to look at all the dragons! She’s a complete doll and is always helping authors out. So thanks, honey. Also, if you haven’t read Wunder by our hostess, what are you waiting for? I’ve read it and I can honestly tell you it’s engaging, erotic and Ava has a fabulous voice that pulls you in from the start. So go grab it…you won’t regret it.
Okay, now that I’ve embarrassed Ava (winks at her and blows her a kiss), let’s get down to my post. I know what some of you are thinking…I’ve dated myself. Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, I wasn’t born yet when it first aired either but, bear with me, it’s still one of the most iconic sci-fi series of all time.
Before Luke Skywalker got in touch with his inner Jedi, Kevin Sorbo dawned a leather vest and cruised through space as Captain Dylan Hunt or Captain Mal Reynolds piloted the Firefly, Captain James T Kirk was exploring the unknown, boldly going where no one had gone before. Damn! That was an awesome line. It goes hand in hand with—I’m a doctor Jim, not a bricklayer—I swear one day I’m going to write a sci-fi series titled… To Boldly Go… yes, I’m copyrighting that, so…
But seriously. James Kirk was the pioneer of Captains. Yes, I’m aware some went before him (danger, danger Will Robinson) but none with the flare, the sheer sex appeal of Kirk. Hell, this guy was doing every female alien he could find! Talk about a non-racist guy. He didn’t care if your skin was blue! But that’s not what made Kirk and the starship Enterprise so magnificent.
For the first time, people looked up and wondered, really wondered, what if? At least the generation born during that time did. Men traveling to the moon…it was all part of the Star Trek phenomena. And never, has a series been remade like Star Trek has. There was The Next Generation, Voyager, Deep Space Nine and Enterprise to name a few. And don’t forget all those movies. Now there’s a new Star Trek. A modern, sexy CIG’d to the nines version for a new generation to love, with a sexier than ever Kirk and all the makings of a true hero. And it won’t stop there. Like Rocky, Kirk will be battling villains long after we’re gone. He and his crew will still be seeking out new life and new civilizations. Being peace to the universe via the Federation. Heck, even the Borg assimilated…so maybe resistance isn’t so futile.
Anyway, this show was responsible for nurturing my love of science fiction. For opening my eyes to new worlds, whose only restrictions were in your mind. Part of why I love writing sci-fi is because I can make shit up! There, you have it. Sci-fi and fantasy…genres where an author just makes shit up. But it’s great! It’s freeing. You can let your imagination roam free, because other worlds, other life-forms don’t have to fit the conventional way of thinking. Two suns, ten moons, a planet covered in ice or water. And for the occupants, maybe a set of long canines for our hero, or special scent glades or heightened awareness. Telepathy or telekinesis…and just think what the man could do with a couple of extra hands…okay, maybe just an extra finger or two!
Anyway, it’s from the love of Star Trek, and who’s kidding, a healthy does of Han Solo and Mal Reynolds, that my new series was born. Dark Horizons…where falling in love requires more than gravity. And where heroes aren’t always the clean-cut, law-abiding ones you’d take home to meet your parents. No, these guys and gals are rough around the edges, damaged in some way, but with hearts that inherently know right from wrong. They aren’t easy to love but when they do—it’s a no-holds-barred, fine line between stalker and attentive lover, kind of love. They’ll fight and die for those that claim their hearts, and in the worlds they live it, that’s a viable option.
One thing you might notice is that all of the books have the names of a constellation in them. It was my tie-in to the stars. To incorporating a bit of space lore in every one. The first book, Orion Rising, is my favourite constellation. Where I live, you can see the mighty hunter, Orion, almost every night. And I love thinking that folks hundreds of years ago saw those same stars, just like my great great grand kids will. Space, it really is the Final Frontier.
The newest book—book two—titled Andromeda Falling, centers on Lincoln Croft, illegal goods runner and hacker extraordinaire. He’s your epitome of a bad boy with a good heart, and he’s about to have it put to the test. The ‘one that got away’ is back, and the stakes have never been higher. I hope you enjoy the blurb I’ve sent and the teaser excerpt. I can’t say enough about how much I loved writing these books. Allowing my inner Trekie free reins to whatever whirled to life in my mind. I’m looking forward to writing the next installment later this year…but until then, live long, and prosper…
Thanks again for having me Ava…and for those so inclined, I’m doing a GIVEAWAY. A free copy of Andromeda Falling (or a backlist book if you win and already own that one). Just leave the contact info Ava requires in the comments and I’d love to know what your favourite sci-fi movie, TV show or character is/was.
Andromeda Falling ~ Book 2 in Dark Horizon series.

Blurb:
Lincoln Croft isn’t the most reputable man. Disillusioned by the ever-continuing war between the Coalition and the Alliance, he’s made a living running dangerous goods between the worlds, using his ship, the Andromeda, to outrun enemy striker crafts and avoid certain prosecution. And the fact he can hack into any computer system ever made certainly doesn’t hurt his chances at a successful mission.After a recent crusade to help free the condemned planet of Venitia gains him a full pardon, Linc has decided to give honest work a try. Just his luck, his old nemesis, Captain Frank Bane, has other ideas. An unexpected meeting forces Lincoln to crash-land on the very planet he swore he wouldn’t set foot on again. And the surface of Venitia hasn’t changed. Hot, dry and dangerous, Linc knows he needs to get to the settlement before he becomes some creature’s dinner.He never planned on running into Gwendolyn Bennet, the one woman he’d never quite gotten over. After a less than warm welcome, Gwen begrudgingly agrees to help Linc reach the colony. But Bane isn’t giving up. He’s determined to destroy Lincoln, and the Andromeda, even if it means annihilating Venitia.
Excerpt:
The unforgiving sun glared down on him as Lincoln wiped his brow, leaning against a large boulder as he recalculated his trajectory. He’d been traveling north, northeast since leaving the ship, but even after a few hours, he hadn’t happened upon the Venitian settlement.“Next time, I should remember to ask how far the damn thing is before I leave.”He released a weary breath, clenching his teeth against the pain. Though he wasn’t a doctor, he knew the continual loss of blood was taking its toll. Reduced walking speed, increased fatigue and tingling in his fingers all pointed to the fact he was slowly heading toward hypovolemic shock. That’s if a snipe or troll didn’t find him first.He’d been lucky so far, dodging the few creatures he’d seen on the dunes. Sage had been right. Keeping to the small gathering of brushes and trees had provided enough protection he’d covered nearly fifteen miles unscathed. But if he didn’t find the colony soon, he wouldn’t stay conscious long enough to care, assuming he even made it to a suitable cave to spend the night.“I swear, Bane, I’ll see you rot in a cage for this one.”He tilted back his head, breathing in the blazing air before turning to glance at the rock face stretching out to his right. He’d tried to detour around it, but the thought of getting trapped against a sheer face had convinced him to alter his route and follow a path through the lower sections. But after traveling through the twisting corridor for twenty minutes, he’d started to think he was going around in circles.He stared down at his watch, trying to focus on the readout, wondering if the surface could get any hotter. The temperature had climbed to well over a hundred degrees, and despite the fact the second sun was already starting to set, it didn’t seem as if it’d gotten any cooler.“Talk about frying your brain.” He chuckled, staring off at the horizon, when the sound of blaster fire echoed through the outcrop.“Move it, Reddings! I can’t hold this thing off for long!”The voice carried across the air, the desperation in it impossible to miss. Lincoln pushed off the stone wall and stumbled over to a large overhang. Though the path he’d been following continued off to his right, he could see a series of twisting corridors below him, hidden amidst more rock. He looked close to the bottom, drawn to two figures darting between the rising stone spires. He traced back along their path, cursing when a large bird-like creature squawked behind them, its huge beak snapping at anything close to it.He sighed and shook his head. “Of course, it has to be a snipe.”Gleaming gray scales and impenetrable skin. The ability to run on two legs instead of four at speeds rivaling that of a hovercraft. About the only weakness he’d heard about was its lack of intelligence.He scanned the area, calculating the most likely escape route for the couple below based on their current direction. A few openings were scattered along the trail, but an arcing branch to their right a few hundred meters ahead of them presented the best route. If they had any survival training, they’d follow the narrow corridor deeper into the rock where the bird’s size and tracking pattern would give them the advantage, and possibly save their lives.He grunted, holding his side as he took off, following a twisting section of rock that he hoped intersected with theirs. Stones tumbled down the sides of the sheer cliff, marking his progress as he jumped across an open section, landing with a dull thud on the other side. Pain flared through his ribs, but he did his best to ignore it, racing toward where the paths branched apart. Muffled footsteps and blaster fire echoed ahead of him, the sound occasionally overshadowed by the eerie call of the snipe. He rounded the last corner just as the first person reached the fork.The man was dressed in Coalition battle fatigues, the beige color designed to blend in with the desert surroundings. But Lincoln knew the creature hunted on movement, rendering the illusion completely useless as long as the soldier kept moving. Lincoln called to the man but the guy darted off down the left side, not even giving the smaller corridor a second glance. Lincoln cursed and ran forward, knowing the guy didn’t stand a chance on the open rock face when another figure approached the section.Brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, she looked vaguely familiar as she glanced up the same path the other soldier had taken before heading down the left. She turned to shoot at the creature following her when Lincoln grabbed her and shoved her behind him, aiming his gun at the animal as it breached the intersection. He held his breath and fired, hitting the beast square in the eye. The animal reeled backward, tumbling against the side of the cliff as it lost its footing. Lincoln fired again, but the bird turned its head, deflecting the shot off its resilient scales.The woman tugged at his sleeve, nearly pushing him over. “You can’t kill them that way.”He shook her off. “I’m more than aware of how tough a snipe is to kill, darling. But everything’s got a weakness.”He called out, yelling for the other soldier, but the man never appeared at the bend in the path. Lincoln swore under his breath. “Two choices. Either we continue along here, where we might have a chance of surviving, or we go after your friend.” He spared the woman a quick glance. “There’s no cover on that side of the rock face.”“How do you know?”“I came from higher up that side. Trust me. It’s barren.”She kicked at the stone wall crowding against them. “He’ll never last on his own.”“Nope. Truthfully, two more won’t make much of a difference but…okay. Let’s go. But move slowly. They’re attracted to movement. With that one eye damaged, it might not be able to focus on us if we keep our motion slow and steady.”“Are you fucking insane? Have you seen how fast they run?”“More than I’d care to admit.”“Fine. But I’m shoving you down its mouth first if you’re wrong.”He chuckled. “A girl after my own heart. Deal.”He eased forward, keeping the injured reptile at bay with well-timed blaster shots. The animal seemed uncertain, knocking its head against the wall as if trying to get the bloody eye to work better. They got within a few feet of the creature when a loud scream carried across the breeze, followed by a series of high-pitched squawks.Lincoln stopped. “Shit. There’s more of them.” He looked at her across his shoulder. “I’m thinking there’s little reason for us to try and rescue your friend now. That wasn’t a snipe that screamed.”She gulped. “Oh god, you mean Reddings is…”Fear flashed in her eyes before she nodded, moving with him when he ushered them backward, increasing the distance between them and the bird again. The snipe stumbled to its feet and took a cautious step forward, twisting to look up the other path before swinging its head sideways and staring at them with its good eye as it snapped its beak.The woman palmed his back, halting him. “I think it sees us.”She’d kept her voice low, the husky sound sending a shiver down his spine. He ignored the unexpected sensation, chalking it up to loss of blood as he reached one hand behind him to grasp her hand.“Without two eyes, it’ll have a hard time getting a bead on us. Depth perception’s a bitch with only one point of reference.”The snipe tilted its head and took another step.Lincoln shrugged. “Of course, I could be wrong about that.”The woman groaned and tugged at his hand just as two more creatures rounded the far bend, their beaks covered in blood. They slowed to a stop when the first animal snapped at them, the hollow sound loud in the oppressive silence.Lincoln tipped his head skyward. “Three? Are you fucking serious?” He took two quick steps backward. “Time for us to move, darling. And I mean fast.”She didn’t resist as he turned and raced up the path, following the winding corridor back the way he’d come. The animals called behind him, the clicking of their talons on the rock shadowing their every step. Lincoln kept moving, thankful his prediction had proven correct and that the damn things were too big to move quickly along the narrow path. He picked up his speed, yelling behind him for the woman to jump as they ran headlong toward the gap. Her fingers tightened around his as he launched them both over the opening. He landed off balance, stumbling onto one knee when the girl’s weight yanked him backward.Lincoln clawed at the rock, finding a small handhold as he twisted to glance behind him. The woman had cleared the gap, only to slide off the edge to their left when the stone face gave way beneath her. He cinched his fingers tighter, not sure how to pull her up, when she swung sideways on his arm, landing her foot on the top edge.“If you can hold tight, I’ll lever up.”“I’d make it fast. I can hear those things coming.”“As long as there’s no pressure.”He resisted the chuckle poised on his tongue, more than aware this wasn’t the time to be laughing. But damn if this girl wasn’t a female version of him—cocky and headstrong with a familiar air about her that twigged something in the back of his mind. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he’d seen her somewhere before.His idle ramblings vanished when the first snipe rounded the far bend, its long neck bobbing out in front of it. He looked at it over his shoulder, wishing he could let go long enough to hit its other eye, when it stopped. It tilted its head, swinging it back and forth as if searching for something when it hit him. It couldn’t see them. Lincoln held steady, grimacing when the woman’s head popped above the edge.He gave her a small sideways nod as he tried to speak out of only one side of his mouth. “Freeze.”She paused with her other hand wrapped around a small nodule of stone as her head slowly turned toward the beast. Understanding glistened in her eyes as her breath seemed to stall in her chest.She remained still, with only her eyes darting toward him. “Despite what you might think, this isn’t exactly an easy pose to maintain.”He surveyed her position. Her left hand still held his while her right leg was notched around a chunk of rock on the surface. Her right hand had started to tremble as it gripped the outcrop and he could only guess that her other leg was hanging below her.He sighed. “I suggest you move incredibly slowly, or it won’t matter if you can hold that pose or not because you’ll be snipe bait.”“You could try shooting it again.”“Not without releasing one hand.” He smirked at her. “They’re both rather busy right now. Do you have a preference as to which one I use?”She glared at him. “Then stop whining and help me up so you can free one up and kill the son of a bitch.”“In case it’s not obvious, I’ve been doing that for the past few minutes.”Her glare intensified as she focused on the snipe again. Her entire body seemed to shudder as she gradually levered herself up, finally cresting the sharp drop and scooting behind him on the path.Her final motion caught the bird’s attention. It called out a series of squawks then raced toward them, its one good eye centered on Lincoln. He cursed and sprang to his feet, shoving her behind him again as he raised his blaster. But just as he was about the fire the animal hit the opening and disappeared, its mournful cry echoing off the rock.He stared in disbelief when the other two appeared at the bend. They cocked their heads, the dying call of the first bird still ringing off the rocky walls. The closest bird snapped at the air but didn’t advance, tilting its head to look at the opening. The other snipe made a cawing sound then turned, its fading footfalls marking its retreat.The woman pushed at his back, but he held up his hand, signaling her to remain still. He wasn’t relaxing one muscle until the other creature visibly gave up.The animal scratched at the stone, filling the air with a shrill screeching noise before snapping its beak again and disappearing beyond the bend. Lincoln waited until the air stilled before releasing a heavy breath. Damn. That’d been far too close.He snorted in relief as he turned to face the girl, finally getting a good hard look at her. Some of her hair had pulled free from its clip, hanging in a tangled wave around her face. Dirt smudged a line across her cheeks and nose, ending in a bloody cut along her jaw. But her eyes held his focus. Bright blue, they watched him as if they were seeing something he didn’t.He backed up a step, giving her body a long, slow sweep. She was tall for a woman, only three or four inches shorter than him with a lean, athletic frame. She was dressed in similar battle fatigues to the other soldier he’d seen, only she’d lost her jacket somewhere along the way and sported only a thin white shirt coupled with beige cargo pants. Lincoln cocked his head to one side, wondering why he felt such a connection when the smirk on her face flashed an image through his head.He leaned in close. It couldn’t be. Not here. Not now. Not her. “Gwendolyn?”The smirk flourished into a brilliant smile a moment before her fist collided with his jaw, reeling him onto his ass.One foot stomped on the stone as she crossed her arms on her chest. “Well I’ll be damned. Lincoln Croft.”

Buy Links:
Resplendence Publishing: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/575-978-1-60735-655-4--andromeda-falling-dark-horizon-series-book-two-by-kris-norris.html
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-andromedafalling-1192128-153.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Andromeda-Falling-Dark-Horizon-ebook/dp/B00CS43Q48/ref=la_B003QAMXSI_1_23?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1368676667&sr=1-23



Bio:
Author, single mother, slave to chaos—she’s a jack-of-all-trades who’s constantly looking for her ever elusive clone.Kris started writing some years back, and it took her a while to realize she wasn’t destined for the padded room, and that the voices chattering away in her head were really other characters trying to take shape—and since they weren’t telling her to conquer the human race, she went with it. Though she supposes if they had…insert evil laugh.Kris loves writing erotic novels. She loves heroines who kick butt, heroes who are larger than life and sizzling sex scenes that leave you feeling just a bit breathless.Kris loves to talk to her readers and can be found at http://www.krisnorris.ca.You can also find me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/kris_norrisFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/kris.norris.731My Blog: http://krisnorris.blogspot.ca.


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Review His Desire, Her Surrender (Dominating BDSM Billionaires Erotic Romance #2) by Malia Mallory

"His Desire, Her Surrender" Author: Malia MalloryGenre: Erotic RomancePages: 125Source: Author in exchange for an honest review.Published: March 5, 2013Author's Website
Buy Links: Amazon
Goodreads Blurb: When Marcus leaves Tabitha heartbroken in Hawaii, she doesn't suspect she'll ever see her new lover again. Back in New York, Marcus tracks her down, determined to pick up where they left off. He evokes a whirlwind of emotion and delivers physical satisfaction that leaves Tabitha craving more. But Marcus has enemies who threaten his company and perhaps even his life. Can Tabitha prove that she has what it takes to be both his partner and his submissive?
My Review: I LOVED this couple from the first of the series (His Need, Her Desire) and continue to have the same feelings. Malia wrote us a sensual story with a light touch of BDSM that any fan of the genre will love spending their time with. One thing… I highly suggest you read book 1 of the series before reading this one so you have a better appreciation of the couple and the growth that occurs.
Tabitha is still the same woman she was in the first of the series with one exception. She misses Marcus. She spends most of her days and nights thinking of the time they spent together in Hawaii and wondering if she’ll ever see him again…
Marcus is a very busy man. Being successful does not allow him much time for leisure activities or especially relationships. But ever since he laid his eyes on Tabitha, he cannot get her out of his mind. Will this successful hunk of an alpha male try and make the time for her or will he move on with his lonely life?

Oh man are these two HOT! I cannot wait to see where Malia goes with the next of the series.


Overall Rating

 Sex Rating of 4 Dragon Flames 

Spotlight and giveaway-Vengeful Shadows by Bronwyn Green

Blurb:

I’ll be watching…Tessa Maycroft is being stalked. Unsettling notes and “gifts” addressed to her are arriving at her workplace. Worse, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s being watched, and Zander York, the guy next door, the friend she lusts after but can never have, is on the cop’s suspect list.Think of me…Tessa finds it hard to think of anything else—unless she’s near Zander. And she’s sure he’s not the stalker. When Zander comes to her for help with a work issue that will put them in close proximity, she’s got more to worry about than creepy notes. Zander just might get inside the shell she’s kept around herself for so long.I’ll take yours away…Amid mounting secrets, new fears arise as Tessa worries for their hearts and Zander’s life. One misstep and their future might end before either is willing to say goodbye.**Publisher's Note** This is an extensively revised and re-edited version of a manuscript previously released under the title, Best Laid Plans.
Buy links: Resplendence Publishing Amazon ARe
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Bio: Bronwyn lives in Michigan with her wonderful husband, two amazing sons and three somewhat-psychotic cats. When not tormenting her characters, she can usually be found helping with reading and writing projects in her sons’ classrooms as well as being the car pool mom extraordinaire for seven teens. Besides writing, she also enjoys reading, knitting, sewing, cross stitching, pottery, drawing—basically anything that helps her avoid the tortures of cleaning and cooking.












You can find or reach out to Bronwyn in any of the following places:http://bronwyngreenblog.blogspot.com/http://bronwyngreen.comhttps://www.facebook.com/bronwyn.green.authorhttp://pinterest.com/bronwyn_green/
And here's a special App that Bronwyn wants to share with you all. Feel free to check it out. It's cool!https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewSoftware?id=611016605&mt=8









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Red Phoenix's Cherry Poppin Blog Tour

Book Description:

First published as the popular nine-part eBook serial, Brie Learns the Art of Submission is now available as a full-length novel.

Join Brianna Bennett as she is introduced to the erotic world of submission...

Brie's life changes the day Sir comes to her tiny tobacco shop. His invitation to the Submissive Training Center is about to rock this young woman's world. The renowned school is famous for its elite submissive instruction. She has no idea what will be asked of her or the boundaries that will be pushed. One thing is certain: Brie is about to learn more about herself in six weeks than she has over the previous twenty-two years.

From formal classes, hands-on practicums and weekly auctions, Brie will confront her deepest fears and desires. In the process, she will also forge lifelong friendships with fellow submissives and fall for several of the Center's skilled Doms.

As graduation day approaches things begin to unravel, forcing Brie to make an unexpected choice of Master. Which Dom will ultimately earn her devotion and capture Brie's courageous heart?

Adult Material (18+)

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content and scenes that some readers may find objectionable.



Click here for A.R. Von's book review
Excerpt:
Warrior Fantasy (Brie Lives Her Fantasy)
His thrusts were strong and demanding. She had to remind herself to relax in order to take his entirety. She groaned as his speed and depth increased. He grabbed handfuls of her hair, grunting in his own pleasure while his tight pelvic muscles delivered repeated thrusts. She could feel the burn on her back as they slowly inched across the carpet. It added to the brutish feel of their coupling. She wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out so the whole house could hear. “Rytsar, you’re too big!” she screamed loudly, adding, “But I like it, oh, yes…! You make it hurt so good.” Even though she knew he couldn’t understand, she suspected some of his friends spoke English and it pleased her to promote his manliness to the crowd in the other room.He grasped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply while he consumed her with his body. The ridge of his shaft rubbed that area deep inside that made her legs quiver uncontrollably. She purred into his mouth as he brought her to the edge, but then he stopped. Rytsar pulled out, chuckling wickedly under his breath.He turned Brie onto her stomach and grunted out a command she assumed meant ‘stay’. She lay on the carpet, breathless and needy. He came back to her less than a minute later and lay on top of her body with his rigid member between her butt cheeks. He lifted her pelvis up with one hand and pressed his lubricated cock against her ass.

Get your Brie HERE


PlaylistRed Phoenix’s Playlist Used While Writing Brie Learns the Art of Submission
For Marquis Gray: Marquis knows the power of pain in the right doses, and the right settings.
Something For the Pain Red Light King 

For Tono Nosaka: Tono loves Brie, but his is a gentle love. ChasingCars by Snow Patrol  

For Falean: Faelan knows Brie is meant for him. He will do whatever it takes to make her his.  You are Mine by Mute Math

For Sir: As Headmaster, he is forced to abide by the rules of the institution even though he is irresistibly drawn to her. Spectrum by Zedd

When I was writing a naughty BDSM scene: I love the naughty beat and lyrics. Adam Lambert's For Your Entertainment
For the Collaring Ceremony: The words speak for themselves – a very heartfelt moment Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard andMarketa Irglova

At the end: This was suggested by one of my fans after I completed Brie. It matched my mood at the time AND Brie’s heart the moment they got onto the elevator. Euphoria by Loreen

  
  Erotica is a delicious fantasy created to entice both the mind and the body ~RedRed Phoenix is an award winning indie author who started her writing career in December of 2011. She is best known for her novelette, Brie’s First Day of Submissive Training,which was published in March of 2012. The little book created quite stir when it was released. Since then, fans have been riding the Brie wave with the sociable author. In October 2012, Red published the wildly popular eBook serial into novel form, Brie Learns the Art of Submission. She is currently writing Brie’s continuing journey in the serial titled After Graduation, due out in novel form September 2013.“I am a happily married woman who believes, based on personal experience, that love conquers all. It is a running theme in my writing.” Red is a mother of three and wife to one. When she is not writing, you can find her on Facebook or Twitter interacting with fans.“One thing you will notice about my work, I'm all about variety. If a character beseeches me to write his or her story, I willingly give myself over no matter the genre or subject.” * Red Phoenix has a total of fourteen titles available as eBooks (not including serials.)  Two of her novels are also available in paperback.Red Phoenix’s Page:  https://www.facebook.com/redphoenix69Red Phoenix’s Website:  www.redphoenix69.com Red Phoenix’s Twitter:  @RedPhoenix69 


­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­There are several fan pages as well….here are those pages:Club Red:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/ClubRedPhoenix/  Friends of Red Phoenix:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/539875076052037/Sensual Loves Anonymous for Red Phoenix:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/SLAforREDPHOENIX








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The Vikings are back in Week 6/Chapter 6 of Silver and Spice by Maria MacAuley!

Hello friends/followers! Welcome to week 6/chapter 6 of  Maria MacAuley's Silver & Spice. Now we present to you another portion of a very exciting, romantic and all-around great story.  We will be posting a chapter for you to enjoy each week until the story's end. We are looking forward to comments, feelings, thoughts, etc. of what you think for each portion posted. So please be sure to leave a comment in the comments section :)

Now I present to you... Silver and Spice!

View Prologue and chapter 1 HERE, chapter 2 HERE,  chapter 3 HERE,  chapter 4 HERE, chapter 5 HERE






Chapter 6
From experience on the open sea, Johan knew that Kristr’s short dragonship would be nearing Scandinavia in the next number of days.  He missed the lands of the North, and looked forward to travelling there and reporting on what he had found.  True to his word, the burly docks-master had sent word that the first group had arrived in Dubh Linn the previous evening.

Johan studied his reflection in the highly polished silver plate. The person who looked back at him was no longer his quiet unassuming self.   He practiced his sneer, displaying his three blackened teeth.   His carefully considered movements would prove to be overbearing and over-dramatic.  He would have to work on the accent, his mother tongue of Gaelic too fluent for the part he would play, and his natural voice was too low to be credible in this disguise.  Another sneer in the in the shining plate, this time broken by a wide smile in perverse approval at his countenance.  The man others would see was not a pleasant view with excessive padding around his waist, his hair piled on his head, held in place with a sticky mixture of oils and resin. Although he was not short, the extravagant style added another hands-width to his height, and the false woolpack stomach contradicted any illusion of tall stature.  He pinched his nose and cheeks until they flushed red with burst blood vessels, the sign of a man who had taken too much wine; it was not attractive, but that was the point and his skin would heal eventually. The heavily embroidered purple tunic and saffron cloak finished the spectacle. Another day of practice and his trap could be set.
oooOOOooo
'Sean son-of-Ronan' Johan swept into the hall like a prince. 'I demand that you meet with me and settle my accounts from which your partner has absconded!'
MacRonan looked up from his trencher, picked his ear with his meat knife, and examined the contents between his fingers, 'I'm sure you are mistaken. I have no trading partners.' He stabbed the dagger between the grooves of the table.
Johan was not remotely intimidated. 'You lie! I know that you have traded with Kristr Halsrason and that Norseman has cheated me.' MacRonan made no eye contact, merely flicked the handle of the knife, causing it to reverberate. Johan continued, 'I spent seven moons travelling down the Volga to the Abbaside Caliphate! I did not do battle with barbarians and savages to have that half-bred Norseman steal from me!' Johan was enjoying himself. There was no way a man dressed and fattened such as he was would be able to wield anything larger than a drinking cup and a leg of pheasant, let alone a sword against the volatile Rus, one of the tribes along the Volga River.  The comedy of the act was dangerous, but Johan thrived on the deception.
'That was a far way to go.' MacRonan’s interest was finally piqued. The fine, richly dyed brocades and silks of this man's clothing made him curious as to his story, and he was envious as to where the fabric for the bright colourful garments were sourced. 'Before I speak with you further, Stranger, you already have my name. What is yours?'
Johan's natural ability as an actor was now in full flow. Alfhilde had taught him well..  She may have been a very strict foster mother, with many human flaws, but at times like this he appreciated her education.  'My name is Albert of Northumberland, I am a proud Saxon and I demand satisfaction of this slight to my name and my property.'
'You are mistaken. Halsrason is no friend of mine.' MacRonan summoned the serving girl and pointed to his cup. She filled his cup, and cried out softly as he slapped her hard on her rump, before casually dismissing her with a flick of his wrist. 
Johan winced as he glanced at the poor girl, but trying to ignore her pain he continued, 'So not only do you deny you know Halsrason, you deny me a cup of mead? Not three moons ago you and he were seen at the port in deep discussion. I have witnesses!'  Of course this was not true, but the embellishments were necessary, just like the hideous garments.
'You shriek like a wench in a tussle, Albert of Northumberland. Tell me, what do you claim he stole from you?'  MacRonan’s long black fingernail pointed towards Johan. 
'Garnets! Precious blood red stones from the Arabian Peninsula! It was my intention to use them for trade in Jorvik, but Kristr Halsrason looked at them, giving me the false intention of a willingness to purchase.  Instead he closed one meaty fist around the gems and struck me with the other.‘  Johan continued in his loud high-toned warble. 'This is all he failed to steal from me. ' He dropped three large stones onto the table. MacRonan would know their worth. It was expensive but worth the ruse. 'Twill be a small price to pay you with these if you help me wreak my revenge.'
'It seems that Halsrason has made enemies further than these islands. You have not been the first person to pay a visit to my hall this week.' MacRonan sneered.
Johan’s trap was closing. 'So Halsrason has cheated others? What did he take on them? Gold or Sapphires?' He paused for effect. 'Or spices?'
MacRonan gave a hollow laugh ’Neither of those things. Although I have stolen the very spices you speak of from him, and it was a pleasure to see his bloodied face after my man Lorcan was finished with him.  I will not rest until I have destroyed the bastard Halsrason and his father. Your stones and the payment from my other visitor will pay for mercenaries.' Snap. Johan's trap had closed. Now that he had the fool MacRonan in his trust, it was time for questions. And answers.
'So, MacRonan, what did Kristr Halsrason steal from them? Short of a long-boat load of pretty virgin bed thralls, I can't imagine what else would hold such high value.'
MacRonan sucked the mead off his moustache. 'Halsrason stole their pride.'
'What did your other visitor offer for the destruction of Halsrason?'
'Aha, they don't want Halsrason dead. They want to see his sorrow and destruction at the loss of his woman.'
'Halsrason's mother is dead, I believe she died when he was still a lad.' Johan held his calm.
'Oh I know. The beautiful Aisling died on a pilgrimage to Clonmacnoise.' MacRonan waved dismissively, as if shooing a fly. The use of her name and flippant actions did not go unnoticed by Johan. 'They aren't talking about his mother, the woman who ran from her husband into the arms of a Viking raider. They are talking about his new woman. Barely out of girlhood. A tiny little maiden with glass-green eyes and long black hair. The same woman he stole from me over the loss of his precious spice. And when I take her back, I will have at her before I pass her to my, ah, customer.'
Johan paled beneath his purpled skin, but smoothly queried, 'And what is their payment to you?'
'This.' MacRonan skidded a shiny object across the table. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Johan bent over and picked it up. He had seen this piece before. A crushed gold necklace.  A gift from Kristr to Alfhilde.  He had finally rejected her, and obviously she had not taken his refusal well.
oooOOOooo

Erik poked his head into the tent. He softly cleared his throat, then again, a bit louder. Feeling a gentle nudge from her companion, Ciara, opened her eyes wide and beamed with delight when she saw his blonde head and wide smile.
'Ladies, I bring glad tidings. Today we shall arrive at our steading.' He spoke with his usual formality. Ciara's smile was there but as she looked over to Roisin, it faded slightly. She herself had never felt so relaxed in her life, but squeezing her sister's hand realised how hard this was for Roisin.  The monks and holy men had tried to discourage the old ways of the soothsayers and fortune tellers, but had failed to quash the old rituals completely.  Ciara now understood the control of the church and its attempts to subdue its people. It was not fairies or demons that the church feared; it was much more human qualities.  Love.  Free thought.  Independence. The basic principles of the faith were pure; it was their execution of those principles that led to conflict.  Erik had stirred emotions  previously unknown, deep within her soul, and pagan or not, she wanted to know his language, to eat his foods, to be with him. 
'Come out and look at the beautiful Scandinavian scenery.  Your own country is magnificent but mine is also a beauty to behold.' Erik offered a hand to each girl and pulling themselves up against his tensed arms, exited the tent.
Ciara was amazed.  She gasped when she saw the vision before her.   It was beautiful, and nothing like she had ever seen before. The deep channel through which they currently sailed felt as if it had been carved by the ancient gods themselves; the high cliffs, leading to green farmland in the distance.  Within a small number of deep breaths, she felt the creation of the three levels of the Norse worlds within her being, the branches of tree of Ygdrassil supporting and protecting her.
Startled from her daydream, she felt warm hands encircle her waist. 'Are you well?' She gave a relaxed sigh. 'You will be made welcome on my father's land. And after these four days on the open sea, you will appreciate the hospitality offered there. There is a lot more comfort there than on this boat.'
oooOOOooo


Roisin didn’t flinch when Kristr rubbed her shoulders, cupping his hands over their small curves. He was happy to drink in the lush landscape after days at sea.  He smiled when she sighed in appreciation at his touch. Throwing back his sharp words of nearly a sennight ago, she suddenly stiffened her frame. 'I must smell like a sea cow.'
He pulled her back against his chest. 'You do not smell now, and you did not then. I was angry and most rude.' Kristr had to concede that he had been horrid to her, but that was before he saw her spirit, her frustrations with life, and choices made for her.  He was his own man, free to sail, to trade, to fight and to seek revenge.
In effect, in his determination for justice, he had taken another choice from her, over the crimes of another person.  But, the action had been taken, and as part of his plan he had to carry out his threat. Kristr’s  was not used to his mind in such confusion, as he mused on the choice she would make when the time came for her to return to Donegal.  There was no doubt in his mind that, despite her protestations, her men folk would pay for her freedom.  Roisin was too intelligent and strong-willed to be sacrificed for a family’s paltry coffers.
'It is a beautiful country. Is it all like this?' Roisin first craned her neck, looking up at the sheer grey cliffs, topped with the warm blue-green tones of the fir trees, before peering over the edge of the boat looking into the clear depths of the water.
'Ja. Of course it is not all fjords, but sailing down them makes me feel like my homeland is welcoming me back to my homestead. My father Kerik Halsrason is Jarl, and Gertrude, his wife is the woman of the house. She is a fine Jarl's wife, and the mother of Erik.’  He jerked his head in the direction of his brother, who was deep in conversation with Ciara.
Roisin could not keep her silence. 'But how did your mother live as a second woman in the household?'  Not only had she grown up without a mother, her father Conall had never taken another wife, or even another woman to his bed.  The duties of the woman of the rath were carried out by Aine, Diarmuid’s wife.  It was through Aine that Roisin had learned her homemaking skills and through Diarmuid, the history of Breda, her mother. 

'Kristr continued, ‘When my father  brought my mother back to his homestead, she was so scared that her Irish husband would come after her, or that my father would give her back to him. Gertrude took care of her and protected her as if she were a sister.
‘Although she was my father's second woman, he loved both equally, and took neither to be his wife.  I know to your Christian sensibilities it seems wrong, but how you judge one society by another one's rules?'
He was right. To her mind it was wrong; she was brought up to believe that a marriage was between a man and a woman for life. That was before she realised how complicated and ugly life could be. Trying to change the conversation, she lightened her tone. 'Fjords. Fjords. Tis my second Norse word,'
'And what was the first?'
'Kristr. Christian. That was my first word.' She paused. 'Did you know that today was to be my wedding day?' She thought of her father and how believed he had made a good match. Whether she was agreeable or not, she would have been packed up now, her belongings and herself on the way to Dubh Linn to be with MacRonan.
'I knew your wedding feast would have been soon.'  Secretly he was glad that he had taken her before she had become a wife, sullied by MacRonan’s name and his body.
His soul felt black today, the memory of the twin pain of his mother's death and Roisin's abduction, in contrast to the twin beauties of Scandinavia and  the same Roisin of Dun-na-shee that were before him today. She may never forgive him, but he could try to provide her with some answers.
'I could not let MacRonan steal from me. He is corrupt, duplicitous and sneaky in the extreme. Now that I have met you I know he would have used one as exquisite as you. He would have shared your body with any trader who would have given him more coin.' Roisin gulped with fear and repulsion as she listened to Kristr's words. 'And now,' he whispered, 'I don't regret taking you from him.' He did not deserve her affections after his actions of the previous week, but to know that he had saved her from the claws of his sworn enemy gave him some comfort.
She turned from the grey cliffs to look up into his grey eyes. 'What will happen to us at your steading?'
He ran his hand through his hair before tracing his finger over the pattern of her braid. 'You will be safe, you will be cared for, you will be protected from marauders.' She snorted in disgust, pulling her plait from his fingers.
'That's what my father thought at Dun-na-shee, and look what happened there!'
She couldn't contain the bitterness in her voice. 'If you were going to take me hostage for another man's crimes, you could have least have let me say goodbye to my father. Until MacRonan arrives for the sham of a wedding, he will not know what has become of me.' Kristr could not argue with that. Hostage taking in Ireland had been in place since the dawn of time, and he had not obeyed the Irish rules, but he was not an Irishman. Any link to his mother's line ended when he was eleven summers old.
'The deed is done now, and each day may bring you closer to your father.'  He freed her from his hold, but not before giving the whisper of a kiss against her nape, the creamy white skin exposed by the thick black braid. 
She tried not to tremble. Each day brought her, not closer to her father, but closer to her fate, and now she was confused as to whether her fate laid with this handsome Viking, as Ciara’s would, or with her own in Ireland.

The cliffs slowly gave way to land, still a dull winter green and brown, but no less majestic. The pale green fields, speckled with tiny yellow and white blossoms,  were dotted with small tidy halls, similar to those on the Shetland Jarlshof.  There were men busy in the fields, stopping their ploughing just long enough to bellow barely heard greetings to the vessel, returned just as noisily by the men on the boat. In the distance she could see the crowd forming at the side of the water. As Kristr, Erik and the men readied the boat to dock, Roisin sought out Ciara, who could barely contain her joy at seeing Erik's homestead.
Roisin was in awe of the settlement; she could make out a number of long, low buildings similar, as well as barns and stables. The Halsrason homestead spoke of wealth, prosperity and security.
Erik disembarked first, followed by Kristr. As Knottr lowered Ciara into Erik's arms, and herself into Kristr's, the indication of ownership was not lost on Roisin. She looked around at the crowd, who were led by a giant of a man, and followed by a woman; her head was covered by a kerchief, and she was bearing two horns of ale. 


'Hej, Fadir,'  Using Norse, Erik greeted the brown haired man, his father, whose bushy beard was beginning to show strands of silver. He walked to the woman, who was obviously his mother by the features they shared. 'Madir,' he smiled as he took the horn of ale from her, before she passed the second to Kristr.
Roisin observed the ritual with interest. Kristr may have led the raid leading to her abduction, but here he was most definitely the second son. The blonde woman beamed with pride as only a mother could when looking at her children. She hugged Erik, spilling his ale. Kristr chuckled at the exchange, and drained his horn.
Kerik clasped his son's forearm, clapping him on the back he said 'By Thor, we shall feast tonight, my sons have arrived home, and justice has been done for MacRonan's dishonourable actions!'
Kristr looked at Erik and then at their father. 'It did not go quite as expected. MacRonan, true to his cheating nature, refused to give me my silver, so I took something much more precious in kind.' He nodded to the women, and as Erik walked over to lead them to his parents, Kerik's eyes narrowed. Roisin paled. She did not understand a word that had been said so far, but it did not take a scholar to know that Kerik was furious. Erik squeezed her hand, not looking at her; he only had eyes for Ciara, but she tried to calm her fears at his reassuring touch.
'Son, what is the meaning of this?' Kerik bellowed, ignoring his wife's cautionary hand on his arm. 'We do not deal in thralls! I shall not allow you to keep slaves on this steading!'
'Fadir, Roisin and Ciara are not thralls.' Kristr took Roisin's hand from Erik, and possessively put an arm around her. 
'Roisin was betrothed to MacRonan, due to marry him today, of all days. Her father was deceived by his coin and his promises to make an honourable husband.' He held his hand up asking his father to let him finish, as he continued with his tale, Erik nodding in agreement with Kristr's retelling. 'However, my problem is...' Erik interrupted with a cough, '... our problem is that we are not sure we ever want these women to go back to Ireland.'
'What of the ransom? You say MacRonan will not pay, but what if her father comes with coin?'
'If she chooses to go with her father, I will let her go. Until then I offer her my protection.'
'And what is your plan if her father does not arrive?' Kerik knew his son, and his dislike of unfinished business.
Kristr closed his eyes, trying to shut the decision out of his mind, 'Then I shall take her back to her father, after four seasons if she wishes it.'  Four seasons now seemed such a short time to persuade Roisin to stay with him.
Kerik pursed his lips, and addressing his other son, he said, 'and what of you, Jarl apparent? Do you give the same promise?
'I do not.' Erik smiled at Ciara, who shyly returned his gesture. 'I wish to take this maiden, Ciara of RathGorm as my bride.'  Kristr eyed his brother, unable to contain his smirk.  Erik certainly had been busy during his conversations with Ciara.
Erik's parents exchanged glances. At twenty four winters, nearly twenty five, he was not old, but as a Jarl should be seeking a mate. 'We shall talk of this further my son.'
Gertrude held out her hands to the women, gesturing that they should follow her. She pointed to herself. 'Gertrude.' Then touching each girl's cheek, 'Ki-ra, Rosh-een.' She took them to the bath house where, under Gertrude's direction, they were tended to by women of the steading.  Gertrude’s expert hands removed their plain garments, but rather than tutting in annoyance at their shyness, she paused before encouraging both young woman to continue undressing.
Roisin still blushed at being nude in front of others, but this time their gentle ministrations helped her to relax her tense muscles. Sitting in the tub, the cake of soap smelled of flowers, and the soft circling of the warm wet cloth over her skin eased her worried mind.  She still was not sure of what had happened between Kristr and his father, the tone of the language sounding abrasive, even when it was obvious they were happy. She sat quietly in the tub as her hair was rinsed with a fragrant water, and tangles carefully combed though. 
She was helped out of the bath, and wrapped in a linen drying sheet when Gertrude returned with some clothes. She helped Roisin to dress in a soft, clean, white undershift, and a green dress. She looked down at her new attire, rubbing the smooth spun wool between her fingers. It was much finer than what she had been dressed in by Alfhilde, and of a similar quality to that she could weave herself.   'Rosh-een.' Gertrude gently raised her chin with a finger and smiled. She added the last piece of Roisin's clothes, an apron dress, pinned into place with two silver brooches. As Gertrude and the women made sounds of approval, Roisin bit her lip and looked at the brooches.  They were solid silver with an intricate carving of a Celtic knot, one following a circular pattern, the other engraved with an elaborate representation of a Celtic cross the circle highlighted in yellowed enamel; the symbol of her faith. The pieces were exquisite, and were as fine as any she had seen before, but they were made of silver. It was a payment of silver that was keeping her here. Gertrude touched each brooch in turn. 'Kristr.' Roisin assumed it meant they were from him. Torn between the necessity of manners and acceptance of the gift against the symbol of her price to her father, Roisin shook her head. 'Nei.' Gertrude nodded. 'Ja.' Roisin had to concede. She was the stranger here, and her life depended on the goodwill of these people, who so far, had shown nothing but kindness.
She could not help but stifle a giggle when her sister appeared before her. Ciara twirled in her new outfit, again a woollen dress but in a pale blue, set off with a simple leather girdle.  The generous cut of the cloth afforded a graceful bell shape with each of Ciara’s exuberant spins.  With her blonde hair and tall frame, Ciara looked like she belonged.  After eighteen years, Ciara had found her home.

OooOOOooo

Kerik led his sons to the main hall. Kristr felt like a boy of eight again. 'Well, do you care to explain your plans further, my sons?' Kristr may have felt like a boy, but on studying his son, Kerik felt like time had turned back twenty four summers for himself, when he had first taken Grainne.
With his father dead, he had gone a-Viking with some of his distant relatives, from Merksfjeld, further down the coast.  As a new Jarl, he had lands to defend and a reputation to create.   His intention had been to raid the monastery at Glendalough, just outside the new-formed settlement of Dubh Linn, and plunder the Christian churches; gold for his coffers, and slaves for Halsrafjord.  Any extra human cargo could be sold at Rika or Hedeby for silver,
His bloodlust had faded almost instantly when he had found her crouching behind the church. Her silver-grey eyes, unique in their colour against the red-gold of her hair were filled with terror.  He remembered how she was shivering in fear, shaking her head, willing him to leave her.  She was small, compared to women from the north, but her features, despite the tear stained cheeks were entrancing.  This woman would be useless as a field thrall, but would serve his needs on his bed furs.  When he had taken her wrists to bind her, she had cried out in pain.  On seeing the bruises and welts on her arms, his heart had melted and rather than capture her, all wanted to do was rescue this beautiful woman and ease her pain. He crooned in her ear as he scooped her up in his arms. She did not fight him, but at least she had stopped trembling. He would never let another man hurt such a prize again. That was until he had agreed to her Christian pilgrimage to Ireland, when his world was split apart.
'With your permission, Fadir, I should like Roisin to live in my hall.' I will give her a chamber of her own. I will not take her to bed unless she is willing.
Kristr scratched his beard. 'Is she willing?'
'Nei, not at the moment. Fadir, I will not force her. You know I have more coin stored under the ground and below the sea bed to last three lifetimes. This started as a means to teach MacRonan a lesson, and my plan did not go as I expected. I did not expect Roisin to be the proud, strong maiden that she is.'
Turning to his eldest son and heir, 'Well Erik. Tell me of your intention. Does your intended bride come to you willingly?'
'She does. She was with Roisin when we found her. I am as guilty as my brother in the kidnapping of these women, but when I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted her. She is betrothed to Roisin's brother, but it is not a love match.'
'If she is betrothed to another, I will not permit you to marry her until the four seasons have passed.' When Erik moved to protest, Kerik cut him short. 'I am Jarl, and until the terms of the ransom demand are complete, you may not wed. However, if she is willing, and only if she is willing, you may take her as your woman.'
'As you wish Fadir.'

Gertrude led Roisin and Ciara into the hall. Standing to greet them, Kristr smiled in pride. 'You look beautiful.' He took her hands and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek.
'Thank you for the brooches,' Roisin tried desperately not to sound so formal, but in the unfamiliar clothes she did not feel herself. 'Can you please thank Gertrude for me, and ask her what chores I may do to earn my keep? We cannot stay here without contributing to the steading.'  Despite Kristr’s assurance that they would not be thralls, to offer help as a guest may keep her in the family’s good graces.
'You will not be working today, as I wish to show you to my hall, but I shall talk with Gertrude and we can come to an arrangement.'
Taking their leave, Kristr walked Roisin to his hall. 'I am the second son, but I like having my own privacy, and during times of feasting, 'tis good to have somewhere else to be.' Roisin's cheeks reddened, believing he was talking about coupling. When they entered from the bright light, it took Roisin's eyes time to adjust to the dark.  Like the larger hall, there were no windows, save for a number of holes in the roof.  The hearth was around half the length of the hall, and ran lengthways through the centre, sunken into the ground.  Currently there was a small fire burning in it, warming the still-cool Spring air.  The walls were sparsely decorated with wooden shields, and a huge canvas sail, with a stylised Viking boat depicted upon it, and the floor was scattered with sweet smelling heather and rushes.  There were a number of benches pushed against the walls; within Kerik’s building, they would be used as sleeping areas for the paid servants and visitors, but in Kristr’s hall, they appeared to be only used as seating.
Kristr led her to one side of the hall, and drew back a  heavy cowskin curtain, and directed her into the chamber. There was a bed, piled with furs, a simple oak chest and a fish-oil lamp, which he set alight with a taper from the hearth. 'This will be your chamber. I will be on the other side of the wall to you. Now, that I have spoken with my father, and received his permission to host you within my building, I need to bathe and dress for tonight's feast.' Kissing her cheek again, he took his leave.
Watching him leave the hall, she touched her cheek where he had planted the delicate kiss, and brought her fingers to her lips. She looked out into the hall, her chamber, her clothes and fell on the bed, sobbing with emotions that had been closed off for the past week.


Thanks for the painting are given to E Patterson
Thanks for photos given to:www.frederic.net
aqwis - wikimedia commons
visitnorway.com






Bio
Maria MacAuley is from Derry, Ireland and has a degree in Celtic Languages. She is married to the love of her life, and they live in relative peace with two cats.

She has a secret wish that her husband will investigate his Nordic family tree further and whisk her off on a longboat to Hammerfest to view the Northern Lights.

If Maria were to choose her favourite tense, it should be the subjunctive, and is always keen to discuss same over a pint of Guinness.
email: banbha@hotmail.com




~*"No portion of this story may be copied or shared without the direct permission of the author."*~

Author/Book Spotlight Sophie's Secret by Chloe Thurlow

Title: Sophie's SecretAuthor: Chloe Thurlow Genre: Contemporary Erotic Pages: 50 ASIN: B0099HZSNYSource: AmazonPublished: January 2013Author's Website: www.chloethurlow.com




Goodreads Blurb: When Sophie Price catches her boyfriend Jake in bed with the infamous Aisha Cummings, she realizes that 1: she's fed up with Jake anyway, and 2: when it comes to the game of sex, she's still at the starting gate. 
After a night at the kinky nightclub 'Pink', Sophie sets out on an erotic mission that takes her from the coolly decadent to a full-blown orgy and way out into the wilds of BDSM. On her journey, Sophie discovers how to 'let go' and just 'be', and learns an incredible secret that will change her life forever. 





I write erotic novels. Some of my friends call the work pornographic, which is both inaccurate and a bit of a put down. I will define the difference by describing two pictures:#1: a naked, blue-eyed blonde holding her breasts and staring wantonly into the void. #2: a girl in a laced corset and towering heels leaving an elegant room. The pornographic shot is calculated to stimulate a sexual response. The erotic image provokes intrigue and mystery. Perhaps the porn shot will motivate a desire to masturbate, never fully satisfactory; while the erotic photograph creates a feeling of mystery: what is the girl walking away from – and where is she going? Why the chic corset and lack of panties? The porn shot is a complete picture. The erotic shot is a single frame from an unfinished story. Good erotic writing, like all good literature, must make readers want to know what is going to happen next, and provide an outcome that is what they expect, but not in the way they expect it. Erotica requires surprise, fantasy, subtext. When a man asks a woman in a bar if she would like a drink, if she responds: 'How much did you pay for your house?' – we have a new set up, a tangent; this woman is interesting. Is she a hooker, a gold digger, a real estate agent, or she just having fun? We don't know and want to find out. Porn tends to be 'on the nose,' characters "tell" the reader what's happening. Better confuse than be obvious. Describing a woman as 'beautiful with long legs and big breasts,' devalues the reader's own imagination. Say: 'Every womanin the bar turned her head as she entered' shows the reader that this is a real beauty. Note that I say 'every woman.' Men always look; women are more discerning.Romance is about love, where the natural consequence of sex is reproduction. Erotica is about sex as an unexplored facet of our humanity, a dark glass in which we dimly see our reflection, a quest for sexual identity. Masks and costume are useful tools in erotic sex because, while hidden, you are more open to be yourself.These are the themes explored in Sophie's Secret, which has been seen by some as a lesbian story, although it was not conceived that way. It opens with Sophie Price catching her boyfriend Jake in bed with her rival, Aisha Cummings. Sophie instantly realizes that 1: she's fed up with Jake anyway, and 2: when it comes to the game of sex, she's still at the starting line.It just so happens that Sophie has been turned away from a lesbian club named 'Pink' because, unlike her two friends who took her there, she doesn't appear to belong. Determined to find out what goes on in that mysterious basement in the backstreets of Soho, Sophie sets out on an erotic odyssey that takes her from the coolly decadent to a full-blown orgy and way out into the wild winds of BDSM.Good erotica needs subplots, a mingling of themes, a touch of philosophy. Sophie is broke and will have to work her way through college, missing out on the chance to reach her full potential – sexually, perhaps, but intellectually for certain. As soon as she lets go of her fears, the other worries disappear and she become fully herself. That's Sophie's secret.

In association with DreamZ of Dragons, Sophie's Secret is FREE at Amazon from May 22, 2013 through May 26, 2013.