With: Sheryl Nantus
Valkyries. Just saying the name brings up images of winged warriors, weapons at the ready as they charge into battle either riding horses or under their own power.
Vikings. Oh, yeah. All of that and then some, right? But in the present, a warrior’s blood runs in many different veins – not all of them in uniform.
Add them together and what do you get?
A Valkyrie descends to a battlefield, doing her job of retrieving worthy warriors’ souls for Valhalla – a job she’s done hundreds, thousands of times before over the many centuries. But this time, something’s different…
He sees her.
He calls out to her.
And that changes everything.
HER ALPHA VIKING
Former soldier Erik Harrison is a dead man walking. The sole survivor of an ambush, the guilt of losing his friends is crushing. He questions his own sanity, remembering the vision he saw as he was dying –– a battle angel come to collect his friends’ souls.
Valkyrie Brenna Lund doesn’t know why she failed in her duty to reap Erik’s soul on the battlefield. He deserves his place with the other mighty warriors in Valhalla, and if she wants to return home, she has to kill him.
There are consequences for betraying the gods. But the closer Brenna and Erik become, the more they both want to risk everything for a future together. If only an immortal hunter weren’t sent to kill them both.
Excerpt:
Freyja spied into your heart and knew you wouldn’t be
able to do it. She knew even before you did.
It should have been easy to take a tired, weary warrior.
Even one like Erik.
The question now was why? This was the second time
failing in her duty, and she was no closer to finding out why.
She rubbed her face with her palm.
Brenna got to her feet and walked toward the bathroom.
Maybe there was some sort of clue about him, something
she could pick up. Her only memory of him before tonight
had been almost a year ago and under very different
circumstances.
The door was ajar, the water running. She edged close
enough to look in.
The breath caught in her throat as she gazed at Erik
Harrison, his bare torso gleaming with sweat in the dim light.
The shredded remains of his shirt lay on the floor along with
his jeans and shoes, kicked to the side in a jumbled heap. He
wore only a pair of tight boxer briefs riding low on his hips.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know what a naked man looked
like. Berserkers donned a scrap of bear fur as armor as they
charged into battle, racing to a glorious death. Armored
knights rode, encased in metal charging onto the battlefield.
Soldiers from all times and places sat together in the Halls,
fought every day and celebrated all night. She’d seen them
all.
Including Erik, in the cage only a few hours ago, facing
his opponent and going down to defeat wearing much the
same as he had on now.
But this…this was different.
He wasn’t perfect, far from it. Erik’s chest was dotted
with white puckered scars, some the size of nickels and
others as short slashes. As he turned, she saw his back and
other, older marks showing previous battles. Yet it didn’t
seem to detract from the power coming off him in waves,
the silent strength evident with every move, every shift of
his body. The muscles were tight and well-defined, not an
inch of fat on his frame.
He winced as he pressed a damp cloth to the mottled
bruises over his left rib cage. Matty had focused in on that
during the fight, and it showed. The swollen cut over his eye
had stopped bleeding and was already going down, but it
still warranted a cleaning and a fresh bandage.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The toned muscles
seemed to be calling to her, urging her to soothe his distress
with her touch, offer to take the pain away somehow. Images
flashed through her mind of the couples she’d seen in the
shadows of the Great Halls, lovers stealing away for some
private time before the never-ending battles started at dawn.
Brenna clenched her fingers, digging her nails into the
skin to stay still. A flash of heat between her legs shocked
her, and she pressed her knees together, cursing in silence.
What is this madness?
He twisted to the right to study himself in the mirror,
lifting his arm up over his head.
His deep brown eyes caught her reflection, and she
froze.
Erik gave her a friendly grin. “Thought you got enough
of me in the ring.” He wagged a finger at her. “Remember,
no bolting. See you in a few minutes.”
He reached out and gently closed the door, cutting her
off.
Brenna retreated to the chair. She was completely lost
with no idea what to say or do. All her training and it was
like arriving in the Valkyrie barracks for the first time.
Lost and alone.
She glanced at the door before crossing her legs,
squirming as the flash of warmth slowly ebbed away.
Maybe not so alone.