Introduction
Ashe Barker is here to talk about her Viking erotic romance "Her Rogue Viking." But before we start, she gave some information about herself and her writing that I thought I'd share here.
I have always
been fascinated by Vikings. Strong, sexy warriors, ruthless, dominant and
determined – what’s not to like? It was only a matter of time before I wove a
story around these fierce raiders who rampaged through Scotland and England for
over three centuries, eventually settling and leaving their indelible mark on
our history.
A Viking raid was
indeed a ferocious affair. They relied on what would nowadays probably be
termed ‘shock and awe’ swooping in from the sea on their fast dragon ships to
attack with vicious and deadly effect. The Nordic raiders would be gone almost
as swiftly as they arrived, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The
modern equivalent would be a helicopter attack on a sleepy rural village by
SWAT teams armed with automatic weapons– the local people would hardly know
what hit them.
I have employed a
certain amount of poetic license, but I was determined to recreate the Viking
era to the best of my ability – their homes, their clothing, what they ate, how
they lived. I hope readers will be as entranced as I am by these creative and charismatic
raiders, and perhaps forgive them their more outrageous little foibles.
Now, on to the rogue...
Ulfric resumed his sensual journey between her clenching buttocks,
pausing when he reached the tight rosette of her rear hole. He circled that
with one fingertip as she gasped and buried her face in the front of his
woollen tunic.
“Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head quickly, though he had no illusions regarding her
opinion of such intimacies. He resumed his lazy play, pressing gently on that
pursed ring of muscle until she pleaded with him to stop.
“Sir? Ulfric? I have never… please, not there.”
“No, of course not there, not this time. But soon…”
He moved on, now slipping his fingers lower to explore between her
soft folds. Her soft and very moist folds.
Yes! He had known it. The Celtic wench might well be embarrassed and
apprehensive, her mind recoiling in aghast horror at his bold and intrusive
touch but her body was eager enough. She even parted her thighs for him,
perhaps not realising what she was doing.
Still reaching around her, Ulfric spread her lower lips from behind
and slid his fingers along the length of her slit. He stroked gently, back and
forth, smearing the copious moisture on his fingers, then bringing it back to
her puckered anus. This time when he pressed, the tip of his finger entered
her. She squeaked, and he withdrew. It was enough.
He reached around and beneath her with his other hand, this time
seeking her most sensitive little bud. He found it, already swelling and
deliciously plump, and started to draw his fingers back and forth across the
very tip. His touch was slow, lazy almost, but he knew exactly where to
concentrate the sensation for the most devastating effect. This was her first
time, he was sure of it. He would make sure she did not forget what he could do
to her if he chose. If she earned it.
Fiona groaned, writhing against his hand. He did not believe she was
even aware of her actions as he built the pressure, his unerring caress drawing
out a response he was quite certain she had no idea might be lurking.
“Ulfric, what is happening? What are you doing?”
“Am I hurting you?”
“I do not know,” she answered, her tone one of pure dejection. “It
feels… strange.”
“Is it unpleasant?”
“No,” she conceded miserably.
“And do you wish me to stop?” He had no intention of doing so, but
was interested in her answer even so.
She did not offer a response at once, but wriggled her hips as she
sought to angle her clit for better access, more friction. Ulfric rolled the
sensitive nubbin between his finger and thumb before he repeated his question.
“Fiona, do you wish me to stop?” He squeezed softly.
“Oh, sweet Lord…”
“Fiona?” Another squeeze, firmer now.
“No. No, do not stop…” The words were wrung from her, a desperate,
anguished moan as her first climax coiled and unfurled deep within her. She
grasped his tunic with her still-bound hands and hung on to him as though
afraid he might even now slip away.
“Do not fight me, little one.”
“I… I am not. I want… I need…”
“Let it go.” He rubbed her clit harder now, and using his spare hand
slipped the tip of his finger back into her rear hole.
“Oh! Oh, I cannot… Ulfric, please…”
“Let it happen,” he repeated. “Let me have your release. Now.”
He was rewarded by her long, drawn-out moan of ecstasy as her body
contracted and convulsed. He was tempted to sink his finger deeper into her
arse, but resisted. He wanted her to be aware of every inch he would drive
inside her tight channel when he finally took her, so for now he concentrated
on drawing out her quivering response with his deft fingers playing her
engorged clit.
At last she was still, silent again, and lying limp in his arms. He
withdrew his finger from her arse and released her clit, then bent his head to
kiss the top of her head.
“Any more bruises, little Celt?”
Blurb:
Though Fiona puts up a brave fight
when her village is raided by Vikings, she ends up being carried off over the
broad shoulders of Ulfric Freysson, the leader of the Norsemen. The stern,
ruggedly handsome warrior quickly makes it clear that she belongs to him now,
and her best efforts to escape merely earn Fiona a painful, humiliating
switching on her bare bottom.
Her captor’s bold dominance sets
Fiona’s passion ablaze, and when he brings her to his bed she cannot help
begging for him to claim her completely. As Ulfric begins training her to
please him in any way he demands, Fiona finds herself falling in love with her
new master, but she soon realizes that there are those among his people who
still see her as an enemy. When her life is threatened by a member of his own
family, will he stand ready to protect her no matter the cost?
Publisher’s Note: Her Rogue Viking includes spankings and
sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
About the Author:
USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of
fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the
hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure –
research.
Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and
realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a
bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.
Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors
and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey
tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days - her time is
divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring
for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises. And
a very grumpy cockatiel.
At the last count Ashe had over forty titles on general release with
publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She
writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s
books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but
offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex
characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes
too.
Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps
thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a
lot more from her.
Ashe loves to
hear from readers. Here are her social media links:
Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com
Wow, that was one super hot excerpt! Love the sound of this. Thank you Kathryn and Ashe :)
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Roz
Thank you for having me (and Ulfric)
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