In 898 AD she wasn’t just from another land.

Wrecking a marriage is generally no problem for the divorce obtaining, Lady Malice Mallender. But she faces a dilemma when she’s asked to ruin her own. Just how businesslike should she remain when the marriage was never consummated and kissing her husband leads to Sin--a handsome Viking who wants her for a bed slave in name only?

She came from another time.

Viking raider Sin Gudrunsson wants one thing. To marry his childhood sweetheart. Only she’s left him before, so he needs to keep her on her toes, and a bed slave, in name only, seems just the thing. Until he meets Malice.

One kiss is all it takes to flash between two worlds

But when one kiss is no longer enough, which will it be?  Regency London? Or Viking Norway? Will Malice learn what governs the flashes? Can Sin?

Where worlds collide can love melt the iciest heart

The Viking and The Courtesan

A minor point at such a moment. Why was it, that every time she jumped in time, she landed where she shouldn’t be? A convent? A storm? Now this? 


 The word came out horribly garbled. If only it wouldn’t. But really, how many shocks was a woman expected to suffer? Being shunted back and forward to Viking times? Being enjoyed half to death there. Again she tried dragging her palm from the door handle, although really, what was it to her that he preferred men? Preferred anything it seemed to her? 


Or was this the reason—not that she knew a lot about it—the reason he hadn’t been able to commit to her? Commit to any damned woman? Commit? For a second she thought she was going to do what rhymed with the word. Vomit. 


“Well . . . well, look at you Malice. Look at your clothes.” 


Her clothes? At least she was wearing some. Unlike him and his lover. 


CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN