Tag Archives: Avelynn

Let's Make a Deal!

New Historical Fiction by Marissa Campbell
New Historical Fiction by Marissa Campbell

I am thrilled to announce that Avelynn will be published in the fall of 2015 by St. Martin’s Press imprint Thomas Dunne Books. Gratitude and much love and respect to my wonderful agent, Margaret Bail, of  Inklings Literary Agency.

As a reminder, here’s a little ditty all about Avelynn. Can’t wait to see it on the shelves!

Avelynn wants equality. She wants love, respect, and the freedom to choose her life and follow her pagan faith. Unfortunately, she lives in Anglo-Saxon England.

It is the year 869, and Somerset has flourished under twenty years of peace. But with the whisper of war against the Vikings threatening their security, Avelynn’s father makes an uncompromising decision forcing her into a betrothal with Demas, a man who only covets her wealth and status.

As tension mounts between her unwavering convictions and Demas’s ambitions, Avelynn stumbles into a passionate affair with Alrik the Bloodaxe, a Viking warlord. In a summer of awakening passion, Avelynn finds the love and respect she craves, while Demas’s tactics to possess her become more desperate and increasingly brutal.

Avelynn challenges the country’s most powerful men, disregards the Christian church, leads an army into battle, and faces Alrik on the battlefield. Passion and desire come at a high cost and through her inexorable choices and actions, Avelynn risks losing everything she values most.

Set within the social and political turmoil of Alfred the Great’s England, Avelynn brings the Dark Ages to light and illuminates one woman’s passionate struggle to fight for what she believes in.

Join me for a wonderful journey into ninth century England and on the road to publishing!

In gratitude,

Marissa xo

 

Vikings are Sexy!

Raven's Blood by Marissa Campbell
Raven’s Blood by Marissa Campbell

A little Viking foreplay … a peak from Raven’s Blood … Enjoy 😀

By the time the wine was finished, I was feeling warm and languid. “You’ve been to Francia and Ireland … but where is home?”

“I am from Västergarn, Gotland, an island off the eastern coast of Sweden. My Grandfather is Jarl there.” He leaned against the log, the fire between us. “And you are from England.”

“I live a day’s ride from here. It was quite the adventure to meet you this evening.” I proceeded to tell him about Ealhswith and her daring plan to help me with my deception.

“I am forever in her debt.” He poked the fire with a stick, sending a procession of hot, orange embers floating upwards. “I hadn’t thought of the means necessary for you to meet me. I was focused solely on what it took to make my way back to you.”

It hadn’t occurred to me there would be challenges for him either, but I felt rather pleased with the notion that he had gone to some length to see me again. “What could possibly stop a Viking from getting what he wants?”

The distance between us evaporated, and he pulled me onto his lap, my skirt rucked up to my waist, his intentions hard and clear beneath me.

“Nothing,” he said and proved it.

Bennet and Associates

 

Bennet and Associates, writing by Marissa Campbell
Bennet and Associates, writing by Marissa Campbell

It could have been the way her voice poured over him like cream, or the way Mr. Bennet lapped it up, all but purring and rubbing against her calves, but Tom froze. Three HB number 2 pencils gripped in his left hand, a package of White 96 Bright, 20-lb. Bond paper in his right. He had stepped into the stationary closet to retrieve them, but when his boss walked in the break room with her, he had been unable to leave.

This is my response to the writing prompt … “An employee overhears a conversation between co-workers and is not happy with what he hears.” I had  a lot of fun with this one. 🙂 Please be warned there are a few swear words in the following paragraphs, so if you are sensitive please feel free to enjoy another post.

He peered through the small crack in the door, pushing up his glasses with the back of his left hand. They were sitting at the table now, steaming coffee in front of them, “Bennet and Associates” in white capital letters on the smooth black surfaces of each mug.

“I’ll be making the announcement about the Vice Presidency this week,” Bennet said.

She leaned toward him, her posture, her smile directed only at him. “Perhaps, I can sway the decision?”

Tom watched her red painted toenails leave the confines of her black stiletto and travel up and under Bennet’s pant leg.

“I think we can discuss this in more detail tonight, over dinner,” Bennet said.

She slipped her foot back into the shoe and stood, resting a French manicured hand on Bennet’s shoulder.  “I’d like that.” Her fingernails trailed along the back of his neck as she walked away.

Tom pressed his back against the shelves, his breath shallow and fast, his heart clawing at his breast. Her shadow passed. He gripped the pencils tight, the edges pressing into his palm.

He chanced another look. Bennet stood and adjusted his grey woolen trousers, a hungry smile fixed on his foolish face. She was just using him, the slut. Couldn’t Bennet see that?

Tom had been in line for that promotion, working his ass off, and for what? For that upstart little bitch to steal it from him? He had worked here eighteen years. Eighteen goddamn years. And her? One. One fucking year.

He pressed his back against the shelves as Bennet passed, then slipped out of the closet. He walked over to the table and looked down at the coffee mugs. He put the paper down, placing the pencils carefully on top so that they didn’t roll, then ran a finger over the bright red lip stick, a perfect imprint of her filthy mouth.

An image flashed in his mind. Those bright toenails severed, her swollen lips wrapped around the barrel of his gun. He smiled and adjusted his grey woolen trousers. There was so much to do before dinner.