About to Blow – Valkyrie’s Vow, Book One
For a thousand years, Mist has shepherded battle-slain warriors to their choice of Valhalla or Asgard. It’s the task she was charged with upon her own death, the mission she chose when becoming Valkyrie. Never before has she fallen for one of those warriors. But then, never has she felt emotions like those evoked by Kurt Stone.
As an undercover cop, Kurt expected a shortened life. He didn’t expect an afterlife spent jumping from realm to realm, screwing a tattooed hottie who makes his blood boil. He should be choosing his next destination, but he’d rather spend eternity indulging in Mist’s delectable body.
The vicious betrayal that led to her death has made Mist reluctant to trust, let alone love. If Kurt can help her face ancient demons, they both might find their idea of Heaven…together.
Reader Advisory: A cute chick at a club shows Mist a very good time on the dance floor. Valkyries are nondiscriminatory that way.
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An Excerpt From: ABOUT TO BLOW
Copyright © MARI FREEMAN, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
Someone moved in behind her and pressed against her backside. Mist didn’t miss a beat or bother to open her eyes. She raised her hands above the crowd, stretching her long form without a care as to who was grinding against her ass. She wanted to shake off some of the stress of the last few months. Her schedule had been a bitch. A warm body pressed against hers felt good. Really good.
The beat changed to something seriously sensual and that body pressed closer. Mist felt the brush of breasts on her back.
A chick. Nice.
The ’ludes had settled in. Nicer.
The girl slid her arm around Mist’s waist, splayed a hand on her stomach and pulled backward, hard, as if fucking her from behind in the middle of the club. Mist was getting hot. It’d been ages since she’d had a woman. Hell, it’d been ages since she’d had time for anyone. But who could keep up with time?
Maybe this town wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be when she’d landed here. That delicate hand snaked over her exposed belly and down the front of her leather skirt. It was short—extremely short—making it easy for the girl to reach underneath.
Mist leaned back, finally taking a glance over her shoulder to check out her bold dance partner. The hot chick’s eyes were closed. Her face looked like a pretty porcelain mask, with overly made-up eyes and bright cherry-red lips. A tight braid held back long red tresses. She was dressed a little too much like a schoolgirl for Mist’s taste but she wasn’t in the mood to be choosy. Especially since the girl’s fingers had found Mist’s clit.
She thrust her hips forward, helping the girl out as Mist let her fingers do their own walking, gripping the hottie’s muscular thighs as her arousal gained momentum. Mist was wet. Her pulse pumped in her clit. The beat changed to a sporadic tempo far too elusive to attempt to follow. Mist felt her legs weaken, her muscles contracting.
They were attracting little attention since the dance floor was packed, but one tall-dark-and-handsome strode by, glanced down and decided to watch the show.
Mist enjoyed an audience. She watched his face as he watched Hottie’s fingers dance over her pussy. He licked his lips and looked up to Mist’s face. She liked his eyes. Dark, dark brown. Maybe black. It was hard to tell in the club lighting. He wore long sideburns, trimmed and neat, sexy; they mimicked the square outline of his jaw. Both his ears were pierced and sported silver skulls. Leather cuffs wrapped each wrist, accentuating thick forearms.
The throbbing percussion of the music was like a caress, the ’lude had her all relaxed and Mr. Yummy was still watching her. As Hottie continued working her clit, Mist let her gaze lower. The man’s shoulders were broad and clad in a tight black shirt. His jeans were loose, except around the tops of his very thick thighs.
He was sex on toast as far as Mist was concerned. She could have fucked both of them right there and then.
One of the many advantages of being a Valkyrie—no moral limitations holding one back.
A golden cross suddenly shimmered into being on Mr. Yummy’s forehead.
“No!” Mist let her head fall back against Hottie’s shoulder. The relaxing high she’d been enjoying washed away as if she’d snorted a line. “Damn it! No.”
He was marked.
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