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- Herausgeber: NYLA
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Serie: Norse Series
- Sprache: Englisch
This is a short story of about 5,000 words A night of choices... Power? Or true love? A dark-eyed warrior grabs Eira at her betrothal feast. As night unfolds, a shocking secret is revealed, and the shield maiden must decide...marry the powerful Viking, Steinar, and be the first woman to take Aland's jarl seat, or claim a second chance at love with Gunnar, the low-born Viking from her past. Two compelling men. One choice...
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Seitenzahl: 36
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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TO STEAL A VIKING BRIDE
GINA CONKLE
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Excerpt from To Find a Viking Treasure
Excerpt from Norse Jewel
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Valkyrie Publishing. All rights reserved.
No part of this work, To Steal a Viking Bride, may be may reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the proper written permission of the copyright owner unless such copying is expressly permitted by federal copyright law.
All fictional characters in this story have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention. © Copyright 2017 Gina Conkle All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. V 1.0
ISBN: 978-0-9983056-2-2
Cover Art: Rebecca Poole, Dreams2Media
NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
CHAPTER1
Wars and weddings were alike in her father’s longhouse…celebrations marked with roast venison, rose hip mead, and raucous laughter. And much revelry. Except the old women. They drank quietly, their aged eyes fixed on the fire pit. Eira’s cheek brushed the leather curtain she stood behind. She tried to read their faces through a break in the weave.
What secrets did the elders hide?
They’d seen enough merriment honoring marriage and battle. The two feasts could be cut from the same cloth.
Her gaze slid to the great chair where her father, Den Gamle, Aland’s greatest chieftain raised a silver-trimmed drinking horn. The chair would be hers as would the man beside it, Steinar of Uppakra, a Viking of great standing and lethal ambition. Beautiful and strong, he could be the perfect mate, but when the time was right, she’d kill him. He deserved it for what he’d done three years past.
Steinar’s pale blue stare searched the room, measuring, counting, full of expectation.
“Calculating our wealth, is he?” She clutched the key ring heavy on her thigh. “He works harder to open my father’s chests than my heart.”
Fine saffron wool stretched across his massive chest. Steinar didn’t need more silver, and he didn’t need her. She was a prize. Nothing more.
His well-shaped lips tightened when he spied her empty seat. She stepped back in the shadows. The curtain had been her mother’s idea, a lattice weave of leather strips hanging from the ceiling to hide unsightly barrels in the corner of the hall. When her sister Ginna had whispered to her, “We need more apples,” she was glad to slip away for a moment of quiet. The bucket of fruit in hand, it was time to return.
Cool drafts stirred her skirts. “Who left the back door—”
A brawny arm manacled her waist. The bucket dropped. Apples tumbled underfoot as she struggled against a wall of muscle and heat.
“Don’t fight me,” a male voice rasped into her ear.
Her eyes flared wide. She opened her mouth to scream, tasting salty hand and seal oil. Rough whiskers raked her neck.
“More than a hundred men are outside. One battle cry from me and they’ll storm this longhouse. Understand?”
Limbs locked, her gaze shot across the hall. Ginna laughed with her husband, Ivar, her belly round with child. Eira gave a jerky nod. Her captor’s arm slid up her body, pressing her breasts as he walked her backward.
Was he stealing her? Or worse?
Sweat beaded her forehead. The smooth white tip of her favorite paring knife poked from her pocket. She reached for the elk bone handle, crying out in pain when a large, calloused hand crushed hers.
The warrior’s breath was hot on her neck. “Drop it.”
