Thorn Rose (PUBLISHED)
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"Forgive me God for I have sinned. I allowed a Northman's lip to touch my own, to touch me neck and travel the length of the sensitive skin. My blood writhers, yearning for his touch. A quenching urge for desire and O'Lord, my eager flesh burns with raging fire."
When the powerful Jarl, a ruthless and merciless Viking, takes a sudden interest in Faylin, a nun he captured on a raid, she vows not to let his wiles distract her from what is truly important - her faith. His very presence is what fuels the fire within her, allowing the hatred to fester.
He destroyed her world and she watched it burn to the ground, crumbling and descending, shattering into pieces of hopelessness right before her eyes.
Though what happens when she starts to realize that beneath the Northman's toughened shield lays a forbearing soul, lost within the darkness and the shadows of his own façade?
Stricken by this realization, the possibility of humanity under such a barbaric character, Faylin finds herself torn between her fears of eternal damnation and desire, struggling to keep her sanity as she dances on that very thin line between love and hate.
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Highest Achievements:
Thorn Rose: #1 in Historical Fiction!!! (21/11/2015)
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historicalfiction
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It must have been a goddess. That he was sure of. In the middle of those dark ashes, a body was laid down, wrapped in a cape that must have been green before but which was now covered in brown because of the ashes. Her face was strikingly pale, of a rare whiteness, but it was also dirtied by the ashes, hiding her cheeks and forehead. But despite those ashes and these dark smudges, one thing was absolutely certain: she was divine. She had a beautiful face with a straight, small nose, lips that were plump even if they were dry and a bit blue from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but her lashes seemed to be long and thick, resting on her cheeks like she was sleeping peacefuly. But all of those traits were not what attracted the Jarl. What did was the streak of hair that rested on her forehead, which had leaked from her hood. Its color was so unique and uncommon for a girl from this country that Tharn remained fixated on it. It was impossible to decide if this girl was a red-head or a blond. It seemed like the gods had not been able to chose in-between those two hair colors and had to give her the tone in between those two: gold. What a waste for such a heavenly creature to be dead, Tharn thought. Well, was he sure she was dead? After kneeling down, he bent over her, placing his fingers on her throat to check if her heart was still beating and placing his cheek in front of her mouth to see if he could feel a breath against his skin. As faint as it was, a light breeze touched him and a slow beat came under his fingers. She was barely alive, but she still was. A sigh of relief escaped him without him controlling it. He had no idea why he was so glad she was alive, but he was sure of one thing : she was coming back with him, and she would be his.Complete
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