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See below for the first installment from our current free story, Tight in Second, offered at our newsletter. This story is a Sequel to Alpha Romeos. Alpha Romeos is currently available in both print and ebook. |
~ You've Heard of the Valkyries?~
Trapped in his small cellblock orbiting earth, Colin McKendrick backed away from the blond giant who had
suddenly appeared in the middle of his room, standing between him and the narrow steel door that opened out
onto the deep vacuum of space. “No way!” Colin shouted, taking another step backward and pointing a finger at
his unexpected visitor. “No! How did you find me? Who the hell gave you my name?”
The big man’s expression was apologetic but determined. His thick hair hung in a long braid to the middle of his
back. Not that Colin could see his back. But he’d seen that bright golden mane before. And he’d seen that man
before, too—though only fleetingly. It was Thor, the ancient and legendary god of war.
“Andarta,” Thor answered.
Colin growled at the goddess’s name. “That figures. Who needs help this time?” he demanded, pushing both
hands back through his dark hair, the tiresome curls snagging on his fingers.
Thor pulled a bottle of Glenlivit from under his arm—obviously a peace offering—and twisted the cap. “Andarta
said you might be able to help me vith a little salvage job.”
“Salvage,” Colin echoed, licking his lips as he watched Thor toss the cap aside. It made a soft whirring sound as
it rolled across the polished metal floor.
“Dat’s right,” Thor said encouragingly, giving the bottle a slight jiggle and extending it toward him. The enticing
scent of fine whiskey wafted beneath Colin’s nose, making his mouth water.
It had been a long time since he’d seen a full bottle of whiskey. Too long for his taste. In fact, the last time he’d
seen that much alcohol was when Andarta had come to him, hoping to enlist his aid to save her half-sisters.
That was about five or six years ago by his reckoning. The saucy minx had gotten him drunk and, next thing he
knew, he was off on a quest with two men from a parallel reality or a parallel universe or some damn thing.
And that hangover hadn’t helped!
Although, it had been good to get out of his cramped cellblock.
And the rescue mission had been a success. But it hadn’t been easy—at least not for Colin. It had been more
like hell on earth. He’d found himself surrounded by Andarta’s gorgeous sisters—all of whom needed sexual
release in the worst possible way—and that bloody little vicious bitch of a goddess had fixed it so that he could
“get it up”…but couldn’t come.
What could be worse than that?
The days and nights and hours that had followed were probably the most trying of his life, despite the fact that
he’d made three new friends in Dye, Warrik, and Warrik’s sword, Bash—who turned out to be one of Andarta’s
sisters trapped within the steel confines of a blade.
But he wasn’t going through that again. No fucking way. Not for all the friends and all the scotch in Scotland. It
was a wonder his equipment hadn’t been permanently damaged. It was a wonder his balls weren’t unalterably
blue!
“You vere the Warlock dat helped rescue Andarta’s sisters, aye?”
“I was there in the obsidian vault when you went hurtling through the wall to deal with that…thing that was
holding the girls prisoner.”
“Aye. You broke the curses and released the girls, opening the portal so dat we could get to dat monster and
save the universe.”
When Thor jiggled the bottle under his nose again, Colin reached out and closed his long fingers around the
smooth, glass neck. He eyed the golden god as he lifted the small round mouth to his lips and took a long swig
of the amber liquor. Liquid fire smoldered through his system—a smooth, rich burn that almost made him smile,
when he hadn’t smiled in years.
Somehow, the way Thor put it made the whole episode sound so…worthwhile. Noble, even. Heroic! Yet all he,
Warrik and Dye had done was satisfy five lusty wenches cursed into eternal celibacy by some sort of space
looney. In doing so, that intergalactic spook had tied the hands of the three most powerful gods in the galaxy—
gods who were also protectors of the universe, as it turned out. Only after the curses were broken, were Thor,
Donar and Andarta finally free to fight the thing and send it packing back to its own space-turf.
Colin took another swallow and grimaced. “I didna know what I was getting into when I signed on to
that…expedition.”
“Den you von’t help?”
Colin arched one dark brow. “Is it going to be anything like the last rescue mission?” he asked.
“Almost certainly.” The god’s massive shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Dat’s why I came looking for you and your
friends.”
“Have you talked to Warrik and Dye, yet?”
“I’m going dere next.”
“Well, maybe they can help,” Colin grunted. “I’ll have to pass this time.”
A shrewd look fell over Thor’s face. “I can offer you better terms, dis time.”
Colin snorted out a wry laugh. “Meaning I’d be allowed to come, this time? Strangely enough, I find myself
tempted.”
“Dat was my intention,” Thor chuckled.
Colin sighed as he shook his head. There was an additional reason he was avoiding another rescue orgy. And
she was a damn good reason, too, despite the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him. “The fact is that my
heart—as well as my cock and balls—belong to someone else.”
Thor’s expression turned grim. “It’s a very serious matter. I vouldn’t ask othervise. You know dat?”
“Aye. I know that,” Colin muttered. “Before I got involved in that mission to rescue Andarta’s sisters, I often
wondered where the gods were and what the hell they were doing—why they didna help out more here on
Earth. I didna realize you guys were busy protecting the universe from outside forces.”
“It’s gotten worse over the last t’ousand centuries,” Thor pointed out solemnly. “Dere are some strange ones
out dere.”
Colin gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m willing to help…in any other way I can.”
Thor jerked his square chin toward the steel door. “You’ll come vith me to talk to the others?”
“Just let me grab my coat,” Colin answered as he strode across the room and pulled on his black jacket. A warm
smile hovered on his lips when he caught sight of the tear in the leather cuff—a lasting reminder of his first run-
in with Bash, now Warrik’s wife. “So who needs rescuing this time?” he asked.
“You’ve heard of the Valkyries?”
Colin gave him a nod. “They’re the Nordic maidens who conduct the souls of dead heroes to Valhalla.”
“Vell, dey’re missing.”
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madison hayes
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