Hot Vikings ebook Bundle
Hot Vikings ebook Bundle
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 367+ 5-Star Reviews
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Synopsis
Synopsis
The Hot Vikings Series
1- The Jürgensen Vikings
In the fury of the North, love battles old feuds.
Can the Jürgensen Vikings find love amidst the chaos of old wars and new alliances?
The Jürgensen Vikings series unfolds the epic tales of five Viking warriors: Sören, Abjörn, Erik, Ryker, and Dittmer. Each story delves deep into their battles, betrayals, and the unexpected romances that bloom in the heat of conflict. As they navigate through ancient curses and rivalries, these warriors must decide if they can let love lead them to new futures or if old enmities will dictate their fates.
2-The King's Raiders
In the King's name, they raid; for love, they stay.
The King's Raiders: once bound by duty, now torn by love.
The King's Raiders series takes you on a journey with Thyra, Revna, Coline, Bodil, and Ailsa. As elite warriors under the king's command, they've pledged their swords and lives to his cause. However, as they raid across the land, they encounter not only foes but potential lovers who challenge their loyalties and desires. Torn between duty and passion, the raiders must decide which calls are stronger.
3- The Viking Settlers
New lands, ancient hearts.
In the untamed wilds, the Viking Settlers seek new beginnings, but can they escape the shadows of their past?
The Viking Settlers series brings us into the world of Gunnar, Lars, Birgen, Sten, and Pier. Striking out to foreign shores, each man battles not just for survival but for a chance at a life filled with purpose and, perhaps, passion. But as they carve out homes in these new lands, they find that they must also defend their hearts against unexpected desires that threaten to change everything.
Binge 15 Steamy Historical Viking Novellas by Peyton Lawson!
Each ebook includes 5 novellas
- The Jürgensen Vikings - Volume 1
- The Kings Raiders - Volume 2
- The Viking Settlers - Volume 3
⚒️ Excerpt from Sören: Healed by a Highland Witch ⚒️
Firtha's fingers spread wide, searching for something else to throw. It was like throwing a flower at a boulder. He didn't even duck when the dishes shattered next to him.
Her breath left her in a gasp as he covered the distance between them in a single stride, pinning her arms to her side.
"Let me go!"
"I will," he said, staring into her eyes. "First, tell me why ye be angry."
She stopped, confused. "Why?" She searched his eyes for deceit but found none. Despite herself, Firtha felt tears welling up.
"Am I so hideous? So horrible? I see yer body wanting mine, but..." She struggled free from his grasp.
He set her down so quickly she had to grab his arm to keep from falling. "Ye be beautiful." His eyes revealed his belief in his words.
"Then why dinna ye desire me?" she cried, her frustration and pent-up emotions spilling out.
He stared at her. "For one thing, ye be a Volva."
"A what?" Her Danish had improved, but she hadn't heard that word before.
"A...seer. A healer. Someone who..."
"A witch?" The old hurt resurfaced. The accusations of deviltry, the whispers that had followed her mother. Being called a witch by villagers was bearable, but from him, it wounded her deeply.
"I do not know that word." He spread his hands. "In my country, a Volva is revered, sacred. To take you would be to..." He looked confused. "It would be to rise myself to..."
"Wait." She realized what he was trying to say. "Are you saying that... I'm too good for you?"
He crossed his arms. "You be a Volva. Ye should be the consort of kings."
"But that..." Firtha searched for the right word. "Madness. I am just...me!"
"If they caught you harbouring me," he indicated the village or perhaps the Lord, "they would kill you. The snows are melting. There have been two visitors here already. Others will come. We cannot be caught. If I am distracted, I cannot protect you."
Slapping his face made her arm ring up to her shoulder. He didn't move. "Listen to me. We have been in this cabin for nearly two months. In all that time, there have been two lovelorn women come for a dose of powder. And as far as kings go... I DINNA WANT KINGS!"
Slowly, he understood what she was saying. When he reached for her, she knew she would lose the fight against her arousal. His hand wrapped behind her head, and he pulled her to him, bending down to press his lips against hers, his other hand behind her back.
By every god there ever was, she wanted this. She grabbed the fur he wore around his shoulders and pulled, closing the last inch between them, and pressed, pushing him away.
Keep Reading if you Like:
- Strong Protective Warriors
- Badass Sword Maidens
- Action-Packed Adventures
What readers are saying:
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I love a good Viking romance, and this is one, sweet but with some drama. First book I've read by Peyton Lawson, but look forward to more from this author." - Reviewer
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I haven't read many Viking stories - one or two before this. But I'm glad I picked this book up because I loved this story. It was a short, quick read, but I felt fully immersed in the culture of it. Great world-building. I loved the characters. I recommend it and am looking forward to reading book two. 5 stars." - Reviewer
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Full List of Books Included
Full List of Books Included
1- Sören: Healed by a Highland Witch
2- Abjörn: Lured by an English Rose
3- Erik: Humbled by the Runemaster
4- Ryker: Bested by the Valkyrie
5- Dittmer: Enchanted by the Goddess
6- Thyra: Befriended by the King's Raiders
7- Revna: Charmed by a Brother in Arms
8- Coline: Worshipped by a Viking
9- Bodil: Sworn to Protect
10- Ailsa: Tracking the King's Raiders
11-Gunnar: Rescued by a Danish Maid
12-Lars: Challenged by the Maiden
13-Birgen: Felled by a Sword Maiden
14-Sten: Forgiven by the Warrior
15-Pier: Allied with the Norse
Look Inside
Look Inside
The vessel crested the waves teetering on the liquid precipice, suspended in a blackened sky.
Traces of white light, great fingers of fire wreathed the small ship in Thor’s flames before it nosed down and plunged down the wall of water. The five men in the ship raced to the back of the craft. Two of them flung themselves out into the surf, holding the stern to keep the bow up. The boat’s bottom smacked the waves, a vicious crack that rivalled the echoing thunder. The three men in the hull pulled their brothers back into the ship.
All five brothers broke to the oars, wading through ankle-high water on the deck. The ship was wallowing in the surf, and the storm raged on around them.
Abjörn stood, his sharp eyes seeing through the gloom in an almost uncanny way. He thrust his arm and yelled, but the sounds were lost in the teeth of the squall. His brothers understood, though. He had spotted land.
Tired cheers erupted. Hope set them moving with a lighter step though exhausted. The coast was unfamiliar, and the only certainty was that they had been blown off course. Where the Danish settlement was on the foreign shore was a good question. Still, at the moment, any shore was an excellent place to put in until they could empty the boat and wait out the storm.
Five giant Danes, each with arms enlarged with muscles built from rowing, set to the benches again and began to pull against the swell of the waves. After reaching the edge of the shore, the waves started to help, and powerful arms and chests tore the floundering boat through the last of the waves.
As soon as Sören felt the boat slide onto the sand, he jumped out, braving the crashing waves and pelting rain. He ran to the rocky shore, pulling the thick rope behind him and securing it to a tree that danced under the fierce winds.
His brothers jumped out, and between them, they managed to beach their craft and pulled furs and hides from the bottom for shelter as the fury of Thor ground itself against the foreign lands so far from home. Whether this was Scotland or somewhere else altogether remained to be seen. Right now, it did not matter, so long as they had a place to wait out the storm.
They ate to survive; a bit of cheese, some hard smoked meats. There would be enough to tide them over until the storm passed. The brothers huddled together under the tree line, staying as dry as the gods decreed, and waited.
The storm didn’t last long. At midnight, the sky relented, and Odin called a halt to Thor’s madness. The stars reappeared, a million fiery eyes curious to see the damage wreaked on fragile men.
In silence, they worked to bail the seawater from the bowels of the craft, anxious to meet the morning tide. They talked little, though still found time to laugh when the youngest stumbled and had to be fished out of the waves. An hour past dawn, the tide would be at its highest, and they could slip away from the shores and follow the coast to the new colony and begin to carve a life there.
The ship was put to rights under a baleful moon, a gibbous reminder of Hel and her kingdom of the unglorified dead. Exhausted and hurting from their battle with the sea, the brothers fell to the bottom of the craft and slept a few precious hours before the sun broke the horizon and they could sail once more.
As his brothers lay under their wet furs, breathing even and dreaming of glory, Sören woke with the discomforting feeling that all was not well. He rose and sat on the rowing bench, but the only sounds were the slow susurrus of the sea as it caressed the shore in apology for its temper tantrum.
Sören rose and slipped over the side of the boat and climbed up the beach. He headed for the trees, loosening his britches as he walked, needing to relieve himself. He’d gotten halfway to the thick trees and had only loosened his belt when he heard a sound.
In the darkness, something moved. A motion to his left caught his eye, a reflection in the pale moonlight. Another. These were not the sounds of nature, not wolves daring the sands and the smell of men. These were men, and as he turned, trying to act as though he were blind and stupid. He could see them.
The Viking longship had often made land on these shores enough for the locals to fear the dragon’s prow. The Danes prided themselves that no village was a match for a raiding party, and so that was true. Still, he and his four brothers did not constitute a raiding party, and the Scots who surprised them had numbers and stealth on their side.
Not wanting to raise the alarm too obviously, Sören strolled casually to the prow and leaned on it as though he hadn’t a care in the world. However, his heart was racing, the battle rage already coming upon him. He turned, acting casually, and set his shoulder to the boat. Sören shoved it as hard as he could, bellowing a war cry to wake his brothers, calling for them to dig in and help push the reluctant craft into the water.
Four heads rose from the inside of the ship as the villagers broke cover. They came at the vessel waving axes and hay forks and the occasional rusted sword, family heirlooms ill-maintained.
Sören gave the last heave as the four men in the boat readied their weapons, and the light, quick craft found her sea legs and began to draw out with the tide.
“ROW!” he screamed at his brothers, “There are too many, ROW!”
He splashed into the water after the ship. He only needed to reach and heave himself over into the protection of the wooden walls and help man the oars sent into the waves.
He did not get the chance.
Something hard and heavy hit him in the back of his head like a falling anvil. He heard his older brother calling his name, and then he only remembered floating, giving back to the sea. His last thought was for his brothers and their safety. That and standing in judgment before Odin.
Was being killed by a rock while running away worthy of Valhalla?
He waited in the sudden darkness for the Valkyrie and prayed for a quick release to her arms.