Silverwood Press, $0.99, ISBN 978-1393334637
Fantasy Romance, 2021 (Reissue)
Lee Savino’s Ægir was previously called The Sea Wolf and, from what I see on the inside page, previously published in some box set. It also has FREE BOOK stamped on it, probably not a good thing to have when the author is charging $0.99 for this baby.
This is a Viking romance in which Muireann, our heroine, uses the word “Nanny” and speaks like a modern day lady called Mary Ann, running around in furry costumes. Maybe it’s for the best that this is a woo-woo romance, because it’s not like it will stand up to scrutiny when it comes to historical authenticity.
Our heroine and her nanny are disgusted that the men of their time would think of marrying women off for political alliances without getting these women’s consent. What does her father, the chieftain, think he is? These bloody Viking misogynists are setting back feminism all the way to the dark ages… oh wait.
Anyway, Muireann is thinking of throwing herself off the rocks because the thought of marrying Dòmhnall, even if this would save her people from being slaughtered by enemies of her people, is just so icky. Never mind, since her nanny stops her from being a strong independent feminist cliff jumper, she is determined to go into the marriage mouthing off to her husband and telling him that a strong modern woman like her will not be violated by ugly brutish men.
She would, however, be more than happy to be violated by brutish ghost peen of hot men, because that’s the situation she finds herself in when she’s kidnapped by Sea Wolf, a mighty commander of a ghost ship and one “cursed to sail until he finds the one who can bring him home”.
Our heroine is terrified, because she has been kidnapped and… wait.
The warrior stepped back, his bright gaze roaming over me, leaving warmth in its wake. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than the one in the hearth. My heartbeat tripped over itself, but I did not want to run. I wanted to stay and touch him. Explore the ridges of his muscles and scars. Bathe in his honeyed scent, let it intoxicate me.
He was wild and more brutal than my intended bridegroom. Why did I feel this way?
Gentle fingers tugged my wild hair back from my face.
My nipples furled. Did he think me ugly or fair?
Did I care?
One, how do nipples furl—like a sail? Two, it’s official, Muireann is such a ho for hot men that manhandle her in a way that a strong proud woman of courage ought to be manhandled. Three, I don’t care.
Seriously. she’s ooh-oohing me-legs-opening the moment he looms over her, which makes me feel a tad relieved for Dòmhnall that he wouldn’t have ended up with a wife with such lack of self-restraint.
Ægir might not appreciate me clean as much as he did when I was covered in his seed, but I preferred to be less sticky. And if he wanted to spend the morning pleasuring me and spilling his seed over me again… well, I would not protest.
Perhaps her people were all slaughtered dead by now, but who cares? She’s getting her jollies and that’s all that matters.
Oh wait, we can’t have our heroine be accountable for her actions, so Seed Blaster and his crew slaughter Dumb Dom’s and our heroine is now free to take it up every feasible orifice, the end.
This is so stupid; I actually feel like a big part of my brain has atrophied by the time I reach the last page. What did those wise old coots say? Maybe not everything needs to be published?
