A gently used post from Lust Bites 🙂

Once upon a time, Kate was bored and fed up writing about baggage-laden bisexual Regency Rakes. She wondered what to write. What was the stupidest idea her over-active imagination had come up with recently? Ah, yes-futuristic intergalactic vikings who loved women, loved them so much they were prepared to do almost anything to keep their females happy-even share them with other men to make sure they were primed and ready and keen to make babies.

Kate was keen on this idea because she realized she could make the whole world up and no one would be able to tell her that grandfather clocks didn’t exist in 1815 or that debutantes weren’t called that in the Regency period. If she wanted 2 suns and purple sand and unbelievably sexy men, she could simply make it so, just like Captain Jean Luc Picard.

Cue gratuitous picture of Captain Picard who isn’t a viking at all but is very definitely a space traveler like Douglass Fraser in PLANET MAIL, the first book of the series who crash lands her United Parcel Planetary space ship on Planet Valhalla and sets up a whole series of books in which wise cracking cynical Earth women get to take advantage of gorgeous hunky sex mad vikings. A match made in heaven, or in the heavens maybe.

Of course, these wouldn’t be those unpleasant vikings we learned about at school. These were more fashioned on the Hollywood version as embodied by Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis-a film which made a very powerful impression on my young mind. I’m not sure why, because when I saw again it as an adult I laughed myself silly, but I had a degree in history by then and thought I was so educated 🙂

Anyway so that’s how I got my crazy idea about writing about intergalactic vikings who love sex- the’Star Trek meet Tony Curtis’ chronicles. Strangely enough, for such a light-hearted enterprise, the first book, PLANET MAIL, did really well, helped by a fabulous cover.

And here, with no further introduction, is a small excerpt from SECURED MAIL which comes out on July 30th from Ellora’s Cave in e-book form, and maybe, much later as a print book. Sven, our hero, is finding out that on Valhalla, the female, aka Earth woman Thea Cooper rules

Thea persuaded the restaurant to give them a discreet table at the back of the room. Despite her caution, since they’d sat down, every single server in the place had managed to pass their table. It was Sven’s fault. Dressed in black leather he was the finest eye candy she had ever seen. To his credit, he made no effort to acknowledge the constant stream of servers who offered him water, cocktails and dinner menus, his attention remained on her.
After considerable thought, Thea ordered two large pizzas, a salad and a side of garlic bread. She hoped that would be enough to satisfy her dinner companion who sat quietly sipping his beer. His long legs stretched so far out under the table, his booted foot nudged hers.
She propped her elbows on the red and white checked table top and smiled brightly at him.
“So tell me, where were you born?”
“On Valhalla.”
She kept smiling. “Where exactly?”
“Why do you wish to know?”
Her smile slipped a little. “Because I’m making conversation. That’s what we do here on Earth while we’re waiting for our food to arrive.”
He put down his beer. “I was born in a small village called Iron Fist.”
“And how did you meet King Marcus?”
“I met him when I was selected to be one of his bodyguards.”
“How old were you then?”
“Old enough to fight.”
Thea sent up a prayer to the heavens for patience. “Old enough to miss your family?”
He looked away from her, his mouth set in a thin line. “Old enough to have seen them all die.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That’s none of my business.”
He shrugged and returned his gaze to hers. “It is a common enough tale on Valhalla. My family contained several females.”
She stared at him. “Is that supposed to make sense to me?”
“On my planet, women are rare and highly prized. Other villages and tribes regularly raid their neighbors to secure females for themselves.”
“That’s terrible.”
He shrugged. “That’s life. The desire to procreate, to have a child is deeply embedded in most societies, yes?”
“I suppose it is, although most of the planets in our galaxy are trying to keep their populations down these days to preserve quality of life.”
His expression was wry. “I believe the queen would call that ironic. We worship fertile women and other civilizations try and stop their females from breeding. My queen tells me that women on your planet are not always well treated by their men.”
Thea paused as the server put the garlic bread on the table between them.
“Statistically, there are more women than men on this planet. Most of the men seem to think that gives them the right to mess around with a woman and then move onto the next one.”
Sven picked up a piece of garlic bread and swallowed it whole.
“You sound bitter, Ms. Cooper.”
She nibbled at the corner of her bread. “Please call me Thea, we’re not at work now.”
He took more bread. “But you said this was a business meeting.”
She glared at him. “I know I did but that doesn’t mean you can’t call me by my first name. As long as you don’t do it at work, I’m fine with it.”
He nodded and his lips gleamed with garlic butter. She wanted to lean across the small space and lick them clean. “Then you must call me Sven.”