- Title: Kiss of Pride
- Author: Sandra Hill
- Series: Deadly Angels, Book 1
- Genre(s): Contemporary, PNR
- Publisher: Avon, April 2012
- Source: Public library ($4.74 ebook)
- Length: 309 pages
- Trope(s): Vikings!
- Quick blurb: Vikings! Vampires! Angels! Time Travel! Satan’s Minions Host a Sin Cruise! Home Improvement!
- Quick review: An utterly goofy and stupidly entertaining read.
- Grade: A-
“Oh my God! It has a halo.”
He jerked to a sitting position and glanced down to his cockstand, which resembled a fat standing candle sitting in a circle of light. Breathing a sigh of relief…he said, “That’s not a halo. It’s just the moon hitting off that round mirror over there and reflecting back here.”
“If you say so.” She was clearly unconvinced. “I think it’s kind of cute, that you would have a halo around your penis.”
Cute? A man does not want his cock to be cute. “It is not a halo.”
She leaned forward to study it closer. “Let’s see if you taste holy.”
HOLY CRAP, this was fun. ALL CAPS FUN, I TELL YOU.
This was the only thing that showed up when I searched my public library’s ebook collection for “Viking,” and I am not ashamed to admit that I fully expected to hate it. Silly me. This book was exactly what I needed to restore my faith in Romancelandia after my ill-advised adventure into the Old-Skool Archives.
Glancing downward, he realized that he was naked. Not even his trusted sword Death Flame was at hand.
Author Sandra Hill is apparently the reigning Queen of Vikings, and Kiss of Pride is the first book in her current series. I am not a PNR reader, so there might have been worldbuilding weirdness or plot holes that I missed, but whatever — I was having TOO MUCH FUN TO NOTICE.
“Near-sex?” he repeated.
Trond explained, in detail.
Holy lutefisk! “And we’re permitted to do that?”
It would take an entire chapter to explain how Vikings and vampires and angels and time travel all smush up together coherently, but Hill somehow manages to make it work. And amongst all the one-liners and fantasy nonsense, she layers in some thought-provoking religious and moral discussions on the nature of sin and redemption. Yes, really.
“I am hoping that my punishment for near-sex will not be nearly as great as full-blown swiving.”
And even with a mostly celibate hero, the sexy times — especially the “no-touching near-sex” scene — were hot. Capital-H Hot.
“If you do that, mayhap I will put you on all fours, like a mare, pressing your face to the floor, and kiss your arse cheeks, afore licking your woman-channel down to your pleasure bud.”
“What?” she shrieked.
Ooops. I might have gone too far. “Sorry. Forget I said that.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll never forget that. Now shut your eyes and stop interrupting, or we’ll be here all night.”
Also, I cried. But only once.
“Let me see if I understand. You’ve been given permission to marry me, and I’ll become immortal, sort of, but it would be as if I were an appendage to you, sort of. Is that right?”
“Sort of,” he said. “So, will you marry me?”
“That is the lamest marriage proposal I have ever heard.”
ANYWAY, the second book in the series was only 99c, so of course I had to buy it, and DUDE! It’s going to be goooood:
Trond has been a gladiator, a cowboy, a ditch digger . . . even a sheik. But now he’s the baddest of them all: a kick-ass Navy SEAL kicking butts of terrorist immortals…
Oh, yeah. I am THERE, and I will have my packets of Holy Water Wipes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Our hero….
…Vikar Sigurdsson hadn’t had sex in a hundred years, and he was not in the greatest of moods. The last time had resulted in two hundred years being added to his penance, and it hadn’t even been good sex.
… By thunder! My brain is a melting puddle of running sex-sap.
…Down, thickening! Down!
…“You excite me,” he explained, pointing to his teeth.
…“Sweetling, there isn’t a religion in the world, in any age, that can stop a man from spilling his seed with great joy.”
…“So, my cockstand is waving at your strawberry fluff. Proceed.”
…“Do not tempt me, wench. If I kiss you, I will not stop there. I will be swiving you continuously ’til your eyeballs roll back in your head and we mark every room in this castle like randy dogs.”
…”If I had to ‘take care’ of tweaking the Twinkie”—he glanced downward at the huge bulge in his underwear—“every time it popped up, I’d have permanent tendonitis in my right hand.”
…An enthusiasm was the Viking male word for an erection. His erection was very enthusiastic.
…Vikar had an “enthusiasm” that had been building for, oh, a hundred years. The “thickening” might very well drag on the floor if he were not so tall, he thought with a Viking bridegroom’s right to overexaggeration on his wedding night. The skalds could no doubt write a saga about it. Or not.
Our heroine…
…“If I want to sin, I’ll sin. Keep all your woo-woo cleansing crap to yourself.”
…She told him to do something to himself that he knew for a fact was physically impossible.
…That’s all she needed. Not only did Lucipires have her in their cross-hairs, drug dealers might be gunning for her, too, and now her boss would be in cahoots with her vampire angel host. Could her life get any better than this?
…She was damn well going to have sex, or someone was going to pay.
…“Show me later. Naked.”
…“Is your heart fluttering, Alex?” “You’re an idiot,” she said.
…“You bastard. You sonofabitch. You ignorant asshole! Don’t you dare tell me to settle down. I am not having sex with you two morons.”
…“A blue steeler? For me?”
…“Have I told you lately how much I love your fierceness?” “Have I told you lately that you talk too much?”
…“Oh please, do not regulate your excitement. Please, jump my bones.”
The worldbuilding….
…“We prefer to think of ourselves as beer-drinking Vikings. We Northmen do love our mead, but a Rolling Rock or Bud will do in a pinch.”
…”Did you show her the Viking S-spot?”
…“I rarely eat hot wings. They stain my fangs.”
…”I remember the time Olga the Big fixed her attentions on Ivak. When he declined her favors, she tried to spear his manparts with a boat oar.”
…“You think lisps are bad? You do not want to see vampires eating corn on the cob.”
…Pensively, he and Trond took bites of their hard pretzels, and chomped, loudly. It was like eating sennights-old manchet bread covered with salt, they’d long ago concluded. Not much taste, but a good way to soak up the beer.
…“Trond!” he shouted out. “Did I tell you there is a barrel of honeyed mead direct from the Norselands hidden in the dungeon behind those boxes of toilet paper?” Before Vikar could finish his sentence, there was a mad scramble of all the vangels for the castle back door.
