The Awakening – Embrace beyond Passion
– The second in the “Tales of Freya” collection of sensual short stories set in the Viking age –
Liberation begins in the mind …
Ingrid leads a quiet, joyless life with a husband who is oblivious to her needs. Every time the dragon boats carry him away, she resigns herself to the solitude of her modest hilltop farm by the fjord. But her uneventful world is shaken to the core when the shadows of her house reveal a secret that sets her passions afire.
“Sarah Dahl brings a crisp, contemporary voice to an ages-old world of battle, bloodshed and primal indulgences.” – J.D. Lexx
“Her sensual Viking romance series (Tales of Freya) will drag you into a world history just can’t seem to forget, and everyone still finds fascinating. With her unique writing style and in-depth knowledge of this bygone era, she brings the world of clashing swords, dashing warriors, and strong, independent shield maidens to life.” – Elaine Coetzee
Ingrid felt Rikard’s eyes on her, piercing through the dark. Her heart strained against her chest, thudding nervously, knowing she wouldn’t manage a polite conversation. His presence paralysed her. His dark voice derailed her every thought. She stared into the flames, wringing her hands as if to warm them.
Before she knew it, his hands covered hers. She winced as if bitten, eyes wide from the unexpected touch. How dare he …. But being an able warrior, he must have scanned the room for onlookers before reaching out. He knew he was safe.
“Ice-cold,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Oh, by the gods, how could he? Even though they had known each other since childhood, they had never exchanged more than a few polite words at the market. She remembered how the air had crackled between them after his return from his longest trip. His eyes had lingered on her, and her flush deepened so much she thought everyone around them would notice. As far as she knew, he wasn’t tied to a farm, a wife, or family. He lived on the earl’s estate, waiting to join the next raid.
As if that made a difference.
Strong, calloused fingers began to gently massage her, while Rikard kept his eyes on the fire. Breathless, she was unable to retrieve her hands. His palms radiated badly needed life into her stiff fingers, burning marks onto her skin where he stroked. She knew she’d be staring at the invisible pattern later, when she was alone.
“What brought you here?” His head did not move to look at her.
“I … I wanted to —”
He chuckled and his eyes met hers, silencing her. Little bright dots danced in their coal blackness.
She stared into their depths, fighting the tingles of pleasure his touch sent through her body. “I thought you were … with the others ….”