This is WIPItUp, the blog hop where authors share excerpts from their works in progress. And please feel free to comment – we authors love feedback.
This week I thought it might be nice to share a few more paragraphs from the third story in my sexy Vikings series. This is as yet completely unedited so please be kind. The working title – which may not survive the publishing process – is His Proud Viking. The book should be out in a couple of months or so. In this excerpt Brynhild, a Viking noblewoman, is being abducted by a runaway slave
Here’s the snippet…
His smile did not waver. “I will not harm you, but I must insist on your silence, at least for the time being, until we are well away from this place. Do not move from there.” He had been balancing on his haunches looking directly into her face but now he stood and walked slowly around the clearing in which they had arrived. Brynhild scanned from left to right and recognised the spot, perhaps a couple of hundred yards from the closest dwelling. If she might just get to her feet she could run hard and maybe get back to the village before he caught her. If she could just get this gag from between her lips she would be able to scream loud enough to rouse Valhalla and by Odin she would do so. She pursued the Celt with her eyes as he paced the perimeter of the clearing, and watched in amazement when he crouched to reach under a spiky holly bush.
The thrall withdrew a large leather bag which he had obviously secreted there earlier. When had he had such an opportunity? She knew for a fact that all the slaves had been occupied down at the harbour the entire day. No matter, she would ponder such mysteries later, in less urgent circumstances.
Slowly, with care, Brynhild rose to her feet and started to back away from the Celt. He was busy checking the contents of his bag so his attention was not on her. This was her chance, and might well be the one opportunity she would have.
Brynhild turned and she ran.
Less than six paces later she was hauled from her feet and slung unceremoniously over the slave’s shoulder. She kicked and wriggled, which efforts earned her a hard slap direct to her upturned rump.
“I told you to stay put. Try that again, and I shall take a switch to your pretty arse, lady.”
Brynhild emitted a silent screech of outrage into the gag. How dare he manhandle and threaten her? She would see him dangling from a rope for this. She would see him whipped, and, and…
The wind was knocked out of her when Taranc deposited her back on the ground in exactly the same spot he had left her. Now he towered over her, his hands on his hips.
“Allow me to be plain since I wish there to be no misunderstanding between us. You are coming with me. You will be silent, and you will be co-operative. If you cause me no problems we shall get along quite well, but I will tolerate no disobedience from you. You have been warned. Further attempts to thwart me will result in you being punished, and a decent switching will be just the start of it. Do not test me on this, Brynhild. You will regret it.”
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