Tuesday, July 14, 2015

VIKINGS!!!

Conquests:
Viking Short Stories
Edited by Delilah Devlin
I visited Ireland in 2012 and loved the many centuries of history you could see evident in the structures and ruins all over the island. The Vikings found their way to this island and staked a claim for a time, interbred with the inhabitants and became an integral part of the culture. Here’s an excerpt
from my story in the Conquests anthology. I had fun writing Konrad and Brigid. I hope you like their battle for supremacy.

EXCERPT:

After years of battle in his homeland of Norway under the leadership of his older brother Ivarr, Konrad had crossed the seas to fight the Danes. He’d come to this island to stake a claim for land and a home of his own. He was ready to settle, take a wife, and raise children and cattle. Konrad heard Ireland was a paradise of green pastures and strong women, both key ingredients to his plan.
Thus, he had sailed his last journey from Dublin around the isle and let the wind carry him here to the west coast of this lush green land he’d come to love. After a fierce battle led by a paltry lot of old men and boys barely off their mothers’ apron strings, Konrad had won. But he wondered that others hadn’t claimed this glorious place, haunted soil or not.
Ahead, two women carrying bundles hurried toward a cottage. One was a winsome beauty with light red hair cascading down her back in long luscious waves. The other was tall and raven-haired, her tresses curling in glorious abandon. The latter’s hips swayed beneath the dress broader than the redhead’s, and with a determination found more often in the men he led in battle.
She handed her burden to the woman standing at the door of the cottage and spoke to her in hushed, urgent tones. The red-haired woman stood by meekly, waiting for the taller one to finish.
Thorsten leaned close to Konrad. “She is a beauty.”
“Indeed she is,” he said, his gaze never leaving the taller woman.
The raven-haired lovely gave her last command and motioned for the redhead to follow her to the next cottage where she again took charge, handed off the goods the redhead carried, and gave her orders. When she was done, she worked her way from building to building, checking with the inhabitants.
“From what I’ve learned, the dark-haired woman is the leader of this clan,” Thorsten said. “She is the daughter of the previous clan leader. The red-haired beauty is her younger sister.”
Konrad had been too busy tending to the wounded and giving his dead a proper send off to Valhalla to learn more about the social structure of the people he’d conquered.
“The old men we captured warned of her iron hand and stubborn streak,” Thorsten murmured. “I suggest you establish your claim immediately, and either send her away or make her your slave.”
Konrad frowned. “I wish this to be my home. These people will be my people. They need to learn to trust that I will defend them against future attack and provide for their well-being. I don’t want them to see themselves as slaves.”
“The villagers seem to hold the raven-haired one in high regard. To win them over, you must first win her over or cull her from the herd.” Thorsten nodded toward the redhead. “Another suggestion would be to take her sister to wife to secure her fealty.”
The raven-haired woman emerged from a home and cast a glance around the village as if to assess the damage. Throughout her visits, she’d avoided looking his direction. At last, she wiped her hands on her apron and glanced his way, her chin tilting high, her blue gaze direct and defiant.
Konrad’s groin tightened, his manhood rising to the woman’s unspoken challenge.
Thorsten chuckled beside him. “I see you will have trouble with that one. Perhaps if you use her as an example and publicly whip her, she will fall in line.”
“A whip would not cow the woman or bend her to my will. What she needs is a firm hand and a reason to accept me.”
“Aye, a proper beating is what she’ll get. She is strong and young enough she will make a fine slave once you break her will.”
Konrad growled a warning. He had no desire to break the woman. Like fine horseflesh, she should be gentled and led to believe she would be better off with him as her rider. He squared his shoulders much like he would walking into battle and marched toward the women.


Conquests:
Viking Short Stories
Edited by Delilah Devlin
THE CAPTIVE
Lizzie Ashworth
ASGEIRR AND THE TREE OF LIFE
Melissa Fuchs
HOW TO TRAIN YOUR SKJALDMAER
Delilah Devlin
THE VIKING'S PRIZE
Emma Jay
THERE FOR THE TAKING
Nym Nix
SWEET SILK
Megan Mitcham
LITTLE WARRIOR
Evey Brett
PROTECTING HER
Regina Kammer
ENSLAVED
Elle James
THE OAK AND THE ALE
Beatrix Ellroy
NEW WORDS
Teresa Noelle Roberts
THE NEEDLE AND THE STRAP
Bibi Rizer

Tuesday, July 07, 2015

SEALS OF SUMMER 2

If you enjoyed last summer's SEALS OF SUMMER, you're going to enjoy this year's too!




 ***11 BRAND-NEW NAVY SEAL ROMANCES***


FALL DARK
Zoe York
HOT SEAL
Lynne Raye Harris
SEAL'S HERITAGE
Sharon Hamilton
THE GUARDIAN
Kimberely Troutte
ONCE UPON A BODYGUARD
SM Butler
THE STRONG SILENT TYPE
Elle Kennedy
HER NEXT BREATH
Delilah Devlin
SEAL'S DEFIANCE
Elle James
A SEAL'S CHANCE
Cora Seton
ONE HOT SEAL
Anne Marsh
A SEAL'S DUTY
Jennifer Lowery

SEAL'S DEFIANCE by Elle James

Blurb

A Navy SEAL and a beautiful aide doctor navigate hostile territory in their attempt to rescue a kidnapped doctor and discover what is killing entire villages in the Horn of Africa.

When his SEAL team's mission fails in the Horn of Africa, Declan O'Shea is separated from his team. Rescued by a group of women and hidden until he recuperates, Irish's main goal is to make it back alive to his team.

As a doctor with Doctors without Borders, Claire Boyette puts her life at risk rescuing the American SEAL. When her partner is kidnapped and the village they're hiding in is ransacked, she's forced to go on the run, relying on the sexy SEAL to keep her alive.

Navigating through hostile territory, Irish and Claire, seek to reunite with Irish's SEAL team, search for the kidnapped doctor and discover the source of what's killing the entire population of villages in the Horn of Africa.

Excerpt


Hunkering low to the ground, Irish ran, doing his best to hug the shadows of trees and bushes. With the moon shining brightly, the SEALs could see the enemy, but the enemy could see the SEALs as well, especially when they were on the move.

Less than a mile away, the thumping sound of rotors whipping the air gave Irish incentive to pick up the pace. His teammates sounded off as they boarded the helicopters.

After one chopper filled, it left the ground and headed north toward Djibouti.

Irish could see the outline of the other chopper, the blades stirring dust in the air, whipping leaves and grass like an impatient child ready to leave. 

"Come on, Irish," Tuck urged.

The words, barely audible over the pounding of his pulse against his eardrums, gave Irish incentive to pick up the pace. Rifle fire erupted behind him, the thunk of bullets hitting the dirt around him was even more compelling. He gave up zigzagging to avoid catching a bullet and ran full out, leaping aboard the helicopter. 

He hadn't even gotten in when the aircraft left the ground, rising up into the air. Tuck grabbed him by his gear and dragged him all the way in the fuselage. Irish sat up and turned toward the open door. Even though he was inside, he wasn't safe yet. The door gunners on both sides fired onto the rebels below.

When the chopper was only fifty feet off the ground, a flash of light below made Irish's blood run cold. 

The door gunner barely had time to yell, "Incoming!" when the helicopter gave a violent lurch and spun to the left, tilting precariously, losing altitude at an alarming pace. The pilot attempted to compensate and the craft lurched to the right before it hit the ground.

Irish slid across the floor, scrambling for purchase, his hands finding none. He tumbled out the open door, bounced off the skid and fell twenty feet, landing on his back in a pile of rubble of what had once been a hut. Stunned, with the breath knocked out of his lungs and his vision blurring, Irish watched as the helicopter pitched back to the left, flew another half mile, shuddered and crashed to the ground. 

His heart banging against his ribs, Irish tried to rise. Pain shot through the back of his head, and he collapsed. Like a candle's flame in the wind, the moonlight snuffed out.