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Manhood is about more than who’s on top.
Wulfstan, a noble and fearsome Saxon warrior, has spent most of his life hiding the fact that he would love to be cherished by someone stronger than himself. Not some slight, beautiful nobody of a harper who pushes him up against a wall and kisses him.
In the aftermath, Wulfstan isn’t sure what he regrets most—that he only punched the churl in the face, or that he really wanted to give in.
Leofgar is determined to prove he’s as much of a man as any Saxon. But now he’s got a bigger problem than a bloody nose. The lord who’s given him shelter from the killing cold is eyeing him like a wolf eyes a wounded hare.
When Wulfstan accidentally kills a friend who is about to blurt his secret, he flees in panic and meets Leofgar, who is on the run from his lord’s lust. Together, pursued by a mother’s curse, they battle guilt, outlaws, and the powers of the underworld, armed only with music…and love that must overcome murderous shame to survive.
Contains accurate depictions of Vikings, Dark Ages magic, kickass musicians, trope subversions and men who don’t know their place.
347 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 25, 2014










The day’s voices had fallen silent, and now the town was filled with the whispering of the sea.
The turf was soft beneath them and smelled of ancient heather and dust—long-ago vanished summers in a time of giants.
The grave was a black stroke on a green page behind him, as though God had drawn a line to end the tale of Anna.
The jangle of Fealo’s harness was like a dropped plate on a flagged floor as he tossed his head up and snorted, the only sound in a world struck dumb.
“Are you so very perfect yourself, son, that you must make yourself the right hand of God’s judgment?”
“I know all the songs tell us how terrible it is to be alone, without place or protector, a wanderer in the wilderness. I can recite the lament of the lordless with every syllable dripping with woe. It isn’t to be alone that I fear, it is to be caged. Bound to some man who thinks that because he feeds you he thus owns you.That his are the words that come out of your mouth, and his are your thoughts— that you exist only to praise and serve him. How can a man of pride bear that? How can any real man be content as another’s servant?”
Can a man have the heart of one thing and the outer appearance of another, without becoming that which he appears to be?