My name is Jianne Carlo and I write erotic romance in a variety of genres - contemporary, military, paranormal, suspense, time-travel, and historical. I relish mixing genres and my latest release, Death Blow, Viking Vengeance II, is a Viking, paranormal suspense.
The history and culture of the Vikings have fascinated me forever, or so it seems. I became obsessed with Erikk the Red and Leif the lucky around the age of nine when I watched a BBC documentary on the two men. We had a Britannia encyclopedia set at the time and I immediately began researching the two warrior-adventurers.
What I love most about the culture of the Norse is the amazing almost-equality of their females. A wife could actually divorce her own husband. She could own lands. Compared to other cultures during the period the Vikings ruled the seaways, the rights of Norse women were vast indeed. With the exception of Iceland, the main privilege women didn't have was that of voting in Viking law gatherings.
It seems obvious to me this near equality between males and females seeped into the culture via Norse mythology. Think of one small part of the legends – the jötunn goddess, female giantesses who were incredibly strong physically and powerful in their own rights. One tale particularly intrigued me - that of the Rán, consort of the sea-god Aegir, who used her net to capture mortal men for her own pleasure.
In Death Blow, Viking Vengeance II, the heroine Nyssa is a half-immortal, the daughter of the King of Moray and Rán.
Death Blow Blurb:
Can a mere Viking break the curse of a sea god?
Cursed by the sea-god Ægir to be burned at the stake, Lady Nyssa seeks the one man who can save her--the warrior who bears the mark of the Saracen. When she finds a Viking warrior wounded and senseless on a beach, she knows he is her savior. But Ægir's wrath extends to others in her life as well. He's killed her father and stepmother, turned her stepbrother into a mountain lion, and imprisoned her people. And worse, he's cursed any man who lays with her to have his manparts wither and die.
Konáll has traded coin a-plenty to gain a wife with lands, the daughter of the King of Moray. He expects a refined, comely, trainable damsel, not a doomed warrior princess with the strength of a giantess who cannot bear the touch of a man. But once he learns more about this woman who speaks to talking mountain cats and hides as a peasant among the rabble, he cannot deny his feelings. There's more than one way to breech a maidenhead, and if teaching her the ways of a woman's pleasure with a carved ivory dildo is what it takes to make her his, then he's more than happy to challenge the wrath of a god…
Here's an excerpt from Death Blow:
Once again he picked her up, turned her around, and brought them face to face. His eyes glittered like chips of frozen loch ice, deep blue and fathomless, and his lips thinned to a stubborn, grim line. "Lie to me and you will regret every breath you take for the rest of your life. I ask again, who are you?"
She lifted her chin and met his stare. "I am the lady Nyssa, heiress to Castle Carleah, daughter of Rán and Rurari. Do not test me, Viking, for not only am I of warrior size, I have the strength of my jötunn mother."
His gaze flickered from her shorn hair to the coarse garb 'borrowed' from a sleeping priest, to the tattered leggings, and her shoddy boots. "Though you be tall, you have naught the height for the daughter of a giantess."
Nyssa sneered. "How many jötunn goddesses know you?"
His jaw worked back and forth. He tightened his grip on her arms and she bit back a protest. "You will cease answering a question with a question."
She did not bother to hide her grin. "Pray tell, what question did you ask?"
"By Odin, you are insolent," he murmured so softly she had to strain to hear him. All at once the fierce frown he wore lifted and his lips curved.
Dread slithered across her nape.
"I have heard of a mark stamped on the lady Nyssa."
Her throat and face heated. "I have such a mark."
I will see it." He carried her to the cave's wall and pushed her back against the cold stone.
"Nay." She could barely think for the shame scalding her flesh and the musk-laden male scent of him filling her nose. "′Tis not your right to view."
"If you are who you say you are, then you are my betrothed, and I have such a right. Show me the mark. I tell you this once and once only." He dropped his hold on her and crossed his arms.
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt.
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Enjoy the holiday season!