xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: Jerrik: A Viking Warrior Romance (Viking Surrender Book 8) By Felicity Brandon #VikingRomance, #SpankingRomance, #BDSMRomance

Wednesday, 27 November 2019

Jerrik: A Viking Warrior Romance (Viking Surrender Book 8) By Felicity Brandon #VikingRomance, #SpankingRomance, #BDSMRomance

Jerrik: A Viking Warrior Romance (Viking Surrender Book 8) by [Brandon, Felicity]

 Felicity Brandon as she tells us about her book -


A horde of battle-hardened, ferocious Nordic warriors.

A Pictish village at the mercy of its enemies.

A harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides.

Delivered into Viking hands, claimed and conquered, each bride must accept that she belongs to her new master. But, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also surrender their hearts?

The Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will not go to safeguard the woman he loves.

Nine provocatively sensual tales of suspense, seduction and adventure told against the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland.

Journey together with indomitable heroes and intrepid heroines, as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion can transform into enduring devotion.

Dare to Enter our World
The steamily seductive Viking Surrender series (first released as the 'Vikings' boxed set) has hit Amazon with brand-new epilogues... so you can find out 'what happens next' for all nine couples.
If you're yet to explore this gorgeous set of shared-world romances, filled with scorching scenes of sexy sizzle and supreme alpha hotness, you've a real treat in store.
For a limited time, all the titles are on sale, and you can devour them in Kindle Unlimited. 

Happy Reading... your Viking warrior book boyfriends await 


Brigid: The last thing I need is a husband, especially some Viking brute commanding my surrender.

Jerrik: Fight all you want, little Pict. You will yield to my desire...

Forced into a union she didn't seek, Brigid is terrified and aroused by Jerrik's masterful behaviour and carnal demands. 
But, when he saves her son from the ferocious ocean, Brigid realises he may be the hero she needs, as well as the man she craves.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as he approached the small, Pictish house, but the closer he got, Jerrik could just make out the delicate figure of someone outside the entrance. The fading light made it difficult to ascertain the person's identity at first, but upon closer inspection, Jerrik was sure it was the face of his new wife that met him.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, closing the remaining distance between them with one long stride. Fleetingly, he was grateful for the linguistic skills he'd acquired on his many travels. Previous conquests had afforded him the opportunity to learn most of the Pictish tongue, and that was sure to make this new adventure all the easier.
"I was wondering where you had disappeared to."
Two large eyes blinked up at him. "I'm sorry," she replied with a sigh, scuttling backwards at his sudden proximity. "l had to return to tend to my business here."
Jerrik paused at that. Business? What business did his little spouse have that meant she had to flee from their wedding feast? He'd barely concluded his second ale when he'd lost sight of her, and now, some hours later, he found her skulking around outside the house they were to share.
Determined to lay the foundation of this marriage from day one, he loomed over her with a narrowing gaze. "And what business is this you speak of, wife?"
Jerrik's tone was intentionally curt, and he smiled at the way Brigid flinched. He wanted her to know who was in charge now they were wed. Jerrik wasn't certain of the way of the Picts, but in Norse, it was men who were the masters of their wives and homes-he would expect no less than capitulation from his new bride.
"What is so vital that it lures you from my side on our wedding night? On this illustrious night for not only you, but the whole of your village?"
The brunette let out a huff, her arms folding across her chest. "Illustrious?" she repeated with a sceptical tone. "Who told you such things? I did not seek this union, Jerrik. I do not need a husband!"
Her tone caught Jerrik by surprise, his eyebrow arching in response to what sounded rather like petulance. "Oh, is that correct?" he murmured, towering over her. "l had no idea my services were not required. I did not hear a peep of protest from you earlier in the day when your self-appointed female leader made the arrangements with my jarl."
He thought her face blanched at that, but it was impossible to be sure in the shadows.
"1 did not want to upset her," she mumbled by means of reply. "Eithne means well, I think. She wanted to protect the whole village, but she presumes too much."
"Hmmm," His dark tone vibrated the short distance between them. "And yet it is done now. The vows are said, and the promises made, and now I have come as your husband to take what is rightfully mine."
Jerrik's shaft hardened as he said the words aloud, and he had to fight the wave of hot arousal that washed over him.
"I can't."
Brigid's words were so quiet that he barely even heard them on the growing evening breeze. Leaning down closer to her face, Jerrik tilted his head to take in what he could of her expression. She didn't seem fearful. He had seen terror in all of its many forms—the petrified pleas of the woman he had taken by force in the past and the final horrified expressions of the hundreds of men he had slayed—Hel, Jerrik could practically recognise its scent, and Brigid wasn't exhibiting those signs to him. She wasn't afraid, yet she seemed so resolute on the subject.
Taking a deep breath, he assessed her responses. This was his wife, and he was going to have her, but he didn't want to have to compel her. Better that she comply with his passion, and perhaps in time, Brigid could even learn to love him in her own way? He had heard of such things happening between a bonded pair, though in truth, Jerrik had never given the idea much credence.
"What obstructs you from giving yourself to me?" he demanded in an uncharacteristically soft tone. "Tell me now, and let us deal with the matter. I was assured that you were no maid, but if that is the case, I can go easy on you this first time we mate."
Brigid gulped at his words. Her gaze travelled up and down the length of his body as though she was acting on reflex, before her own expression softened. "It's not that," she murmured, her gaze lowering to his tunic.
"Then what?" His tone was harder now, his impatience showing in his timbre despite Jenik's every effort.
"It is not what I am, but what I have," she began in a hoarse whisper.
He shook his head at her. Was the woman intentionally talking in Pictish riddles?
"Tell me plainly, Brigid," he commanded, "Or else prepare to find yourself over my shoulder and inside this dwelling, It is time we consummate this marriage."
Her small palms were raised in an instant, her eyes as large as conkers. "Please, no!" she gasped as Jerrik's body pressed closer. "If you do that, you'll wake him, and he only just settled a short while ago."
"Tell me plainly, Brigid,• he commanded. "Or else prepare to find yourself over my shoulder and inside this dwelling. It is time we consummate this marriage."
Her small palms were raised in an instant, her eyes as large as conkers. "Please, no!' she gasped as Jerrik's body pressed closer. "If you do that, you'll wake him, and he only just settled a short while ago."
Jerrik halted abruptly at Brigid's explanation. What in Odin's name was going on here?
"Who will I wake?" he enquired.
Brigid pulled in a deep breath. "My son: she murmured. "You'll wake my son, Bram.·

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Felicity is a #1 international bestselling, and award winning writer of dark, spanking romance. Head in the clouds, you can usually find her either plotting her next book, hitting the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music. She lives to write though, and is happiest creating desire and kink at her keyboard.
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