Product Description

A modern woman and a god from ancient legend? Surely an epic love mismatch...or maybe it's the "myth match" of the century? The irrepressible Katie MacAlister brings us heroes who are more than mere mortals in two sparkling new novellas of the Otherworld.

STAG PARTY

Dane Hearne -- also known as the Irish fertility god Cernunnos -- must choose a bride quickly. His long-time goddess has run off with a salsa dancer, and Dane must be married by Beltane, just a week away, or become a mortal -- and die. When he meets American travel writer Megan St. Clair, he knows he's found his soul mate. But while Dane is a sexy Irish hunk with his fair share of blarney, can he convince Megan to marry him in just one week?

NORSE TRULY

Alrik Sigurdsson is cursed to sail his Viking ship along the same stretch of Scandinavian coastline forever. So when lovely American Brynna Lund skids her car off the road into the ocean, he and his men are happy for the diversion of rescuing her. Then Alrik discovers that Brynna is the only woman who can break the curse. Is it any wonder that he's determined to keep her...forever?

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #320884 in Books
• Published on: 2007-09-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 368 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9781416524939
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

Review
"Wickedly witty, wildly inventive, and fiendishly fun."

-- Booklist

Review
"MacAlister combines adventure, thrills, passion, and outlandish humor....A superstar."

-- Romantic Times

"Wickedly witty, wildly inventive, and fiendishly fun."

-- Booklist

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Stag Party

One

My lord, do you not think..."

"Eh? What's that? Speak up, Stewart, you're positively mumbling."

Stewart the steward (we have many a good laugh over that) looked pointedly at the stone statue in front of me. "My lord -- "

I held up my free hand. "Please, not you, too. It's bad enough having 'Most gracious lord this' and 'Oh worshipful lord that' coming from the druids, but you've known me for...phew, how many years now? Three hundred? Four?"

"Five hundred and twelve," the little man answered, wincing as I scratched my belly and sighed with relief. "I've always called you my lord. If not that, what do you wish me to call you?"

"Didn't we go through this last year? It's Hearne. Dane Hearne. Know it, use it, love it."

"Aye, my...Mr. Hearne. But...eh...is that not a bit sacrilegious?"

"Not in the least. It's the name I was born with. Well...in a manner of speaking. People didn't much go in for surnames back then, but that's what it would have been if they had. Nowadays, people hardly ever use my proper name. I almost forgot what it was myself until a few months ago, when I ran across an interesting online article about me."

"No, not your name. Er...that." He nodded to the statue in front of us.

I looked with dissatisfaction at it. "Sacrilegious because the artist depicted Taranis as standing astride the world in a position of power when we know him to be a cowardly little wimp, you mean?"

Stewart closed his eyes a moment. "No, my lo -- sir. I meant the fact that you're urinating on it. Taranis is, after all, your overlord, head of all the Irish gods."

"On the contrary, I find it remarkably stress-relieving. It expresses my true inner feelings about that bastard." I punctuated the word I had written on the statue with an exclamation point before zipping up. I stretched and glanced around the yard. "So, what's been happening while I've been gone? Buildings look good. I see you've had the verge mown. The druids seem to be multiplying, though. Did you speak to them, as I asked? And why the blazes did Taranis wait until now to have me summoned?"

Stewart was a short man. Proud, and of noble birth -- if on the wrong side of the blanket -- but lacking in the general region of height. He trotted alongside me as I strolled around the grounds, eyeing the large square tower that made up one of two habitable parts of the castle. The tower looked as solid as ever. There was a hint of moss growing on the north side, but other than that, it looked good. Remarkable, really, considering it was older than Stewart.

"Er...I have no idea. I was told there was a delay. As for the druids, I tried, Mr. Hearne."

"Dane. Surely after all those long centuries of employment, you can call me Dane?"

His little round face looked vaguely shocked. "I couldn't do that, sir. It wouldn't be fitting. You are, after all, Cernunnos."

"Stewart, Stewart, still living in the twelfth century." I shook my head as I strode past the carriage house where the druids were housed, counting no fewer than three new faces in the group that was dancing around a willow tree.

"I was born in the sixteenth, sir -- "

"Doesn't matter." I waved a hand at the splotches of yellow that cascaded over the crumbled stones that made up the ruined part of the castle. "Those yellow blobs there, those flowers. Just look at them!"

"Daffodils, sir."

We marched past the flower-splattered mossy ruins, following the narrow trail down to the rocky beach that dropped abruptly into the sea. "Whatever they are, they're positively bursting with life force! It's spring, man, the time of birth and rejuvenation and life! The time to celebrate being alive, not fussing around with archaic ideas and outmoded methods of speech. Live in the here and now, that's my motto, and it's never let me down. Where's Fidencia?"

"Er...she's not here, sir." Stewart skidded down the last of the path, and kept from falling by clutching the root of an uprooted tree that had washed ashore a few years ago.

I hopped over the tree and walked to the water's edge, breathing deeply of the fresh salt air. My position might be tied to shady woodland areas, but it was the sea I loved best. The relentless roar of the waves, the sharp tang of salty air, the piercing cry of gulls and terns as they etched great arcs into the sky -- ah, yes, it was the sea that I returned to each time I was born, and it was the loss of the sea I mourned each winter when I died.

The sea air brushed away a few of the mental cobwebs that always remained after rebirth, and I turned from the view of my beloved sea to glance at Stewart. He was looking distinctly uncomfortable, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. "What's the matter with you?" I asked, feeling a momentary spike of concern. Stewart had been with me so many centuries, I couldn't imagine how I would cope without him. Had someone wooed him away from my employment while I was gone?

"It's Lady Fidencia."

"What about her? Don't tell me that she's broken that thing we started a couple of years ago. What was it?"

"A credit limit?"

"Don't tell me she blasted through that credit limit and bankrupted me again? I distinctly remember you telling me she couldn't do that anymore."

"No, sir, she has not exceeded the limit you put on her credit card -- at least I don't believe she has; I haven't seen the statements for this month yet. It's something of a different nature that I believe will interest you."

I turned back to the sea, allowing its ebb and flow to soak into my soul. "I sincerely doubt that. Fidencia is so caught up in herself, she never has time for anyone else, let alone her lord and master. What's she done now? Started another artists' colony? Gone to those monks in Nepal to learn meditation again? Decided to breed more pygmy goats?"

"Alas, she hasn't, sir. She's...er..."

"Spit it out, man," I told him, not taking my eyes from the breathtaking expanse before me. It amused me to try to find the point on the horizon where the steel gray of the sea merged into the gray of the sky.

"She's gone to South America, married another god who is now a Brazilian salsa dancer, and is going to be expecting a Happy Event sometime in the near future," he said in a rush.

My blood seemed to turn to fire in my veins. I turned slowly to look at the steward. He had backed away a few steps as if he was about to bolt. "She what?"

He jerked at the bellow, the birds above us scattering with harsh cries of protest. I was on him in two steps, the blood pounding so loudly in my ears that it blocked the sound of the sea. The pressure in my head built until it burst forth, another roar of anger sounding against the crash of the waves. "She married someone? She can't marry someone, she's supposed to marry me in a week! She's gone and impregnated herself with some other man's child? She can't do that! I forbid her to be pregnant! I forbid her to be married!"

"You're...strangling me...sir..." Stewart's raspy voice pierced the roar in my ears. My eyes focused on his face, turning red as I held him by his neck two feet off the ground.

"Blast! My apologies, Stewart." I set him down carefully, straightening his tie and jacket, and watching him closely to make sure he wasn't going to swoon. "You all right?"

"Yes, sir," he squeaked, tugging at his tie. He eyed my forehead with a look of great caution. "You seem to be manifesting. Shall I fetch the swords?"

I waved away the offer. "No, no, there's no need for me to work off anger through fencing anymore. There was a new yoga instructor in my department. I spent the entire time I was dead working on anger management skills. Just let me get control again, and then you can tell me what the hell Fidencia is up to now."

Stewart looked away as I turned back to the sea, driving all thoughts from my mind but the calming rhythm of the waves. A few minutes later I was myself again, and tapped him on the shoulder before starting back toward the tower. "I think this is going to require a drink."

"Several, I would imagine."

"Take it from the beginning," I said as we walked into my study at the top of the tower. I poured brandy into a couple of glasses, sliding one toward him before moving to the window overlooking the rocky beach. The uneven stone surface that made up the entire tower was cool to the touch -- it always was, no matter how hot the day. I gripped the stone windowsill, my eyes on the gray sea below.

"It was just after you left for the Underworld that she called from Rio de Janeiro. She said that she had fallen in love with Dionysus."

"Dionysus?" The named seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Better known as Bacchus, sir. Lord of wine and celebration. Evidently Dionysus joined a twelve-step program, has gone on the wagon, and became a salsa dancer at a hotel, which is where Lady Fidencia met him. She called soon after you died to say that she was in love, was going to marry him and go to Rio to live la vida loca."

I cast a frown over my shoulder at him. "She's living what?"

He made a little gesture that had his brandy splashing in his glass. "La vida loca. I looked it up on the Internet. Evidently it's from a popular song. It means living the crazy life."

"Life here wasn't crazy enough for her?" I asked, indignant at the thought that she felt the life I offered was lacking in any way. "She doesn't think being surrounded by neo-druids for half the year and hyperactive fitness instructors and televangelists for the other half isn't crazy? She'd have to be insane not to find that crazy!"

Stewart shrugged and sipped his brandy.

"This isn't good." I jerked the chair out from behind my desk and slumped into it. "Beltane is a week away. You know what that means -- Taranis will be chomping at the bit to get a replacement for me in here. Well, I'm not going to let that happen. Get Fidencia on the phone. Maybe this is some sort of ploy to get her credit limit raised."

Stewart rose to do as I requested, but the look on his face had me worried.

He moved to the desk in the alcove that used to be a fireplace, but which was ...

Customer Reviews

You can judge THIS book by it's cover...
There are some late night cartoon network type guffaws here, pure Katie MacAlister "puniness", and light romance. If that's what you're looking for, you will not be disappointed. Both novellas read like the cover of the book itself; buff, dumb, sex crazed dudes, perky heroines, vain and silly gods/goddesses.

Since I did get what I paid for (a little fun, easy reading), 3 stars would be more in keeping with my personal point system, but for some reason the author switched genres mid-guffaw, and tried a touch of grim reality. I'm perfectly fine with comic characters dodging flying Acme safes and anvils, but the rather cavalier treatment of Ovarian Cancer, and it's flippant use to create a sterile heroine in her first selection, "Stag Party", effectively stopped the joke.

After being turned off by the first novella, the second reads like forced and mediocre fluff.

Not a keeper, but there are a few good quips you might want to remember in an "Aren't I witty?" contest.

PG-13 for mild sexual content

Could Not Stop Laughing
My best friend lent me this book (even though she knew that I didn't normally read romance novels) because she said it was unbelievably funny. When I read it, I laughed so hard that I kept dropping the book. My husband, who was often in the same room as me, had to stop working on his college homework because he couldn't concentrate with me laughing so much. He is reading it now, and he thinks it is just as funny as I did. Overall, I thought this book was creative, light, and a lot of fun. Note: This book has has a lot of adult content, always presented in a humorous way.

Not her usual good work
I have to agree with the other reviews. I am a HUGE Katie Mac fan and she is on my auto buy list, but I can seem to finish this set of stories. I mildly enjoyed Stag Party, but I had to seriously make myself finish Norse Truly.
If you must read this wait for the used copies.