Sunday, October 3, 2021

A Nun for the Viking Warrior by Lucy Morris - Book Blitz


A Nun For The Viking Warrior

Forced to wed the warrior

Falling for the man…

Noblewoman Amée Évreaux had pledged her life to God, until her father promised her in marriage to thundering Norseman, Jorund Jötunnson. After escaping her overbearing father, Amée vows never to fall under another man’s thumb, but her resistance to being Jorund’s wife turns to desire as she gets to know her intriguing new husband. For beneath his fierce exterior she’s glimpsed an unexpectedly pure heart. If only she can penetrate the fortress that surrounds it…


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NB: Jorund breaks into Amée’s nunnery, claiming the Frankish lady as his bride.

Abbess Berthild frowned at the trembling double doors as years of dust was shaken from its weathered hinges. ‘It will hold… At least until morning. Once their tempers have cooled, I’m sure they will be more reasonable in the light of a new day. There is a treaty now. They can no longer behave like animals!’

‘What’s going on?’ whispered one of the novices.

Sister Gabriel was helpfully quick to explain Amée’s impending doom. ‘His name is Jorund Jӧtunnson and he has come to take our poor Amée! He looks like the devil himself. As tall as a mountain and as broad as the sea!’ She made the holy sign with a quivering hand. Amée couldn’t blame her for being afraid. They’d all—in one way or another—seen the fury of the Norse as they’d burned through Francia. Bringing death and despair to all who stood in their path.

Was that why they were here?

Surely not. It was well known the nunnery had nothing of value, and why had the warrior asked for her specifically?

She tried to remain optimistic for the sake of her sisters. But each bang on the door was another blow to her equanimity. Would her own defences eventually crumble? She clutched the blanket tighter as her heart thundered louder and louder in her chest like a runaway horse.

Sister Gabriel continued—oblivious to Amée’s crisis of confidence. ‘He is one of Jarl Rollo’s men. He says Amée has been promised to him! Abbess Berthild has refused him entry until he can provide proof of this from our King.’

Everyone’s eyes turned towards Amée.

She looked up at the abbess. ‘Maybe I should go out and speak with him? It would be wrong to put you and the others at risk. Besides, maybe it’s a misunderstanding.’ How she prayed it was a misunderstanding! Otherwise, the future she’d worked so hard for would be lost. She smiled brightly. ‘Princess Gisla will know the truth of it…’


‘And he can’t possibly refuse to speak with his overlord’s wife…’


Her voice trailed off with each continued knock to the door. ‘She will understand and sort this whole mess out.’


‘She considers me a friend. I was her companion for many years at court.’


‘All will be well. I’m sure of it. A few calm, reasonable words with the…’


‘…the man, and he’ll understand.’


The abbess sniffed. ‘Absolutely not.’

The doors creaked and groaned.

Wide-eyed with horror, the sisters and novices of the nunnery watched as the oak began to bow under the strain. For many of the sisters, this was not the first time a Norseman had broken into their home. But with the recent treaty—which granted land and Princess Gisla’s hand in marriage to Jarl Rollo in return for protection against raids—they’d prayed those days of torment were behind them.

Apparently not.

With a deafening crack, both the hinges and the thick oak bar gave way. The double doors splitting and then falling to the ground like overripe figs.

The women lurched back in fright and a few of the serfs ran into the shadows seeking a place to hide. Several Norse warriors dressed in leathers burst into the cloister. Dropping the tree trunk they’d used as a hastily cut battering ram, they drew their swords and approached slowly with predatory intent, glistening with sweat and barely concealed rage.

‘Where is Amée Évreux?’ shouted the giant at the head of the group. He was the tallest man she had ever seen. She had to look up at most people, but he may as well have been sat on a horse for the way her neck had to bend backwards to see him clearly as he approached. He was battle-scarred, with a half-head of dark blond hair thickly coiled on top and braided down his back. The sides of his head were closely shorn, as was his face, revealing a strong jaw.

But it was his piercing blue eyes that cut down all her optimism and hope. They were as sharp and as deadly as the sword in his hand. There would be no negotiation, no reasoning or bargaining, with this man. Her knees became soft and she stumbled back a step.

‘Enough games!’ He snarled, his teeth almost wolf-like as shadows danced across his menacing face. ‘If I will not have your hospitality, I will have what I came for!’


Author Bio –

As a little girl, Lucy Morris was obsessed with myths and legends. She regularly escaped into the adventures of her imagination, with characters who were strong and fierce. Now fully grown she finds she can't forget the stories plaguing her mind and has to write them down. A book by Lucy Morris will sweep you away on a historical adventure filled with vivid characters haunted by their pasts. Her books will have you flying through her pages, desperate to reach her characters passionately romantic happily ever after.

She lives in Essex, UK, with her husband, two young children, and two cats. She has a massively sweet tooth and loves gin, bubbly and Irn-Bru. A member of the UK Romantic Novelists' Association, she was delighted in 2020 to accept a two-book deal with Harlequin after submitting her story to the Warriors Wanted submission blitz for Viking, Medieval, and Highlander romances.

Writing for Harlequin Historical is a dream come true for her and she hopes you enjoy her books!


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