"Yrsa and Harald finally get their moment"
The whetstone slid along the axe blade with a slow, practiced rhythm. Harald’s hands were broad and scarred, his knuckles split from last week’s brawl. He didn’t look up when the door creaked open, didn’t pause when the cold wind...
"Yrsa gets her marks, and she and Harald have a moment"
Yrsa lay in her fur-covered bed. The cold weather was growing more fierce, winter was on its way, only a few weeks away. She had been dreaming of Harald again; she had seen him in the training circle yesterday, sparring...
"Yrsa proves herself as a Warrior"
A crisp, chilled morning, Yrsa stirred under the thick fur covers of her bed, reluctant to leave the warmth. She willed herself out from beneath them, and for a moment, she admired her youthful naked form before slipping on a...
"Aslief becomes a woman"
"Rise, Aslief," a gruff voice echoed through the wooden walls of the longhouse. Aslief Sigehelmdottir stirred beneath her fur blankets, the memory of her father's proud gaze from the night before still fresh in her mind.As she sat up, the...
"Aslief finally proves herself a warrior"
In the Northern lands of Norway, where the snow was as thick as a bear's fur and the air as crisp as the frost on a morning blade, there lived a young girl named Aslief Sigehelmdottir. She was a creature...
"She is his and he is coming for what is his."
Kieren thought it self-sacrificing that Iona alone brought in the water for his bath. At first he wondered if she was moved by some form of guilt. But when Iona learned that the young girl that usually filled the tub...
"A viking raider's wife gets more than she expected when her husband plunders a beautiful slave girl."
Author's note: the Icelandic character þ is called a 'thorn' and is pronounced 'th'. So þrall is pronounced 'thrall'.The warm water pours from my ladle and sluices over his rippling muscles, carrying away with it the blood and grime and...
"She is his and he is coming for what is his."
From that moment onward Iona sought out this Russ called Long Sword. The images he had spun created a need so great that she could physically feel the man she wanted most. With Iona’s exhaustive imagination, she could feel Kieren’s...
"His needs are specific. She is his and he is coming for what is his."
Iona was not sure how long she laid there. A pain in her chest made breathing exhausting. This pain moved through her body till everything ached. Tears were never a general thing with her; she cried till empty. This was...
"His need is specific. She is his woman. And, he is coming for what is his."
When he closed his eyes, no matter how slight, he could see the movement of her dark, golden skin against the paleness of his own. He could feel it and that was torture. He craved her touch and the mercy...