All Lord Caedmon of Larkspur wants, after nine long months in the king's service, is a bit of peace...not five bothersome Viking princesses who invade his keep, especially not the fiery redhead, Breanne. He has half a mind to kick her tempting arse out the door...but wait...he has a much more wickedly delightful plan for this thorn in his...um, side.
Princess Breanne of Stoneheim is shocked at Larkspur's rundown condition with servants and children running wild whilst Caedmon lies abed after a night of mead and, no doubt, wanton bedsport. Breanne must endure the loathsome lout to protect her four sisters. She can hardly imagine what this knight will demand of her in return.
Fun. Witty. A humorous historical romance with feisty women, tall, strong, handsome and occasionally befuddled men. With a nice mixture of adventure, romance and comical situations, Viking in Love delivers a light afternoon away from the stresses of daily life. Sandra Hill delivers bodice ripping fun and lively characters.
"Goodbye Earl."
Excerpt from Chapter one:
Breanne's back went rigid with anger. Truly, she would gladly kill the brute all over again for what he had done to her gentle sister. She could only imagine what a nightmare Vana's one-year marriage had been. If only they had left the Norselands earlier to visit her in her Saxon home!
There was a light knock on the door.
Everyone stiffened with alarm.
They must needs dispose of the body, but Breanne had no idea how they could manage the feat in a keep filled with housecarls and servants, all loyal to the beastly nobleman. Now it was too late.
Breanne stood and motioned for Vana to step forth. Despite her condition, Vana would have to answer. Limping toward her, Vana stood bravely and faced the closed door. "Who is it?"
"Rashid. Let me in."
Five sets of shoulders sagged with relief. Rashid was the assistant to Adam the Healer, a physician, her sister Tyra's husband. With a snort of disgust, Tyra--who was extremely tall for a woman and very strong, having once been a warrior--jerked the door open, grabbed Rashid by the arm, and yanked him inside, shutting the door behind them.
Breanne had the good sense to lock it after them.
"What are you doing here? Following me?" demanded Tyra, hands on hips.
"Allah be praised, it is good to see you, too, Tyra."
Rashid spoke in heavily accented English, though he still, after all these years, wore the traditional Arab garb of hooded robe with rope belt, over Saxon tunic and braies. "Your husband asked me to follow and see what you were up to...I mean, to offer you protection in the event of..." He slapped a hand over his heart as he noticed the nobly clad body lying in a pool of blood on the stone-flagged floor. "For the love of a camel! What have you done?"
Rashid spoke in heavily accented English, though he still, after all these years, wore the traditional Arab garb of hooded robe with rope belt, over Saxon tunic and braies. "Your husband asked me to follow and see what you were up to...I mean, to offer you protection in the event of..." He slapped a hand over his heart as he noticed the nobly clad body lying in a pool of blood on the stone-flagged floor. "For the love of a camel! What have you done?"
"When we arrived for a visit, unannounced, we found the spineless lout beating our sister with his fists and a whip," Tyra explained. "When I broke his whip, he came at me with a knife, which I turned on him."
They all glanced at the knife, which still protruded from
his belly.
his belly.
Some of her sisters began to weep.
Oh, good gods! Not the tears again! Breanne stepped between Tyra and Rashid. "It wasn't just Tyra. We all played a part. I for one hit him over the head with a poker when Tyra's knife thrust did not immediately fell him."
"And I kicked him when he was down," Ingrith said on a sniffle, her blue eyes sparkling with fury. So hard was she shaking her head that strands of golden blonde hair were coming loose from her long braids.
"I kicked him, too. In the head. Just to make sure he was bloody well dead." Drifa paused. "Is he dead?"
Rashid went down on one knee and put his fingertips to a certain spot on the earl's neck. "Dead as a fly on a cobra's tongue."
Rashid always had a way with words, especially proverbs, one of which he spouted now as he stood to his full height, wiping his hand on his robe with distaste. "Death is a black camel that lies down at every door. Sooner or later every man must ride the camel. Like yon earl."