Postcards from Asgard
Amalia Dillin
Ordinarily, Gwen likes goats, even makes her living by milking them, but these two are some kind of devil-spawn, and one of them is pawing the ground, horns aimed at her guts. The fact that they were followed by a blonde farmhand with a much too charming smile isn’t all that much of an improvement, either.
But Thjalfi makes himself useful. He's lean and smart, with a warmth in his pale blue eyes that makes her shiver, and she can't deny that he has a way with her horses. He seems to have a way with her, too.
There's just one problem: Thjalfi's a slave, a bondservant to the god of thunder, Thor, and no matter how far they fall in love, he can't stay.
But this so-called god who owns him? He’s about to learn just how far a Midwestern girl will go to free the boy she loves.
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