It’s a risk of a lifetime loving a man you’re supposed to hate…
Betrayed by a brother she hardly trusted before the bloodthirsty Viking, Jarl Randvior Sigurdsson, attacks her home, Noelle Sinclair is conveniently bartered as a means to save her cowardly sibling’s skin. Forced to leave her homeland and accompany the petulant Viking to the untamed wilderness of central Norway, Noelle is ever-aware of the burgeoning dangers around her—including her weakening resolve to resist Randvior.
Should Noelle surrender to his resplendent charms and seduction, or fight with every ounce of strength she possesses to get home?
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I want to thank Ms. Rand for coming on the blog and writing a guest post for us.
Is historic romance harder to write than contemporary?
I’m not an expert on contemporary romances, although I’ve read many, and am busy writing my first one now. Writing what you know is safe. For me, contemporaries are easier to read—there’s a smoother rhythm to them. I’m familiar with the environment, language, and culture. It’s like wearing my favorite pair of slippers.
Historicals are different. Authors are pushed outside their comfort zones. Research is always the first step. One of the hardest things is setting aside your own perspective/judgment so you can craft the world through the eyes of your characters. The most difficult thing I’ve encountered is the content standards romance writers are expected to meet (i.e., no depraved acts). As a contemporary writer, I think it’s easier to color within the lines. As a historical writer, who loves Vikings, it’s a challenge. Vikings pillage. You get the idea.
Historical fiction readers are smart critics. They don’t just want to be entertained—they want hard facts.
The internet, television, magazines/newspapers, and popular places provide limitless research opportunities for contemporary authors. In comparison, historical sources can be limited. And in some cases, information gaps exist. It’s the historical fiction writer’s job to convincingly fill in those gaps.
There’s no right answer. All writers are creative geniuses, and no matter what genre they prefer, finishing the story is always the hardest thing to do.
She covered her face, blocking Randvior’s eyes from her own. She was only guessing—which never served anyone very well. She whirled, retreating full speed, heading directly for the cabin. She collided with a soldier. Noelle shoved him away in a huff, and tripped over her own feet as she stumbled through the door. She slammed it shut, barricading herself inside.
Confinement was the only escape at her disposal. But that only lasted a few minutes. Randvior tried to open the door. She braced her legs, hoped to keep the rest of the world locked out until they reached Norway. Randvior twisted the knob and pushed, but she stayed stubbornly locked in position. He banged on the planks and demanded she open the door. If she refused any longer, he’d probably just kick it down. She braced herself for what might happen when he came in and reluctantly stepped aside.
“What happened out there? Did you see a ghost?” he asked, entering the room.
“I would consider myself most fortunate if it was only an apparition taunting me.” She sat on the bed and wringed her hands nervously. “My conscience troubles me.” She raised her eyes to meet his.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. She couldn’t keep herself from sneaking admiring looks at his body. Only flesh and bone, she reminded herself, he’s only flesh and bone. His fine looks did little to relieve her; she was so helplessly riddled with guilt, she didn’t know what to do with herself any more.
He closed the door and moved closer. “Remember the things I told you in England?”
“I remember too much.”
What she really wanted were assurances for her future. She wanted him to vow he would care for her life as loyally as he would his own kinswoman’s. If he wouldn’t make her his wife, he should choose someone else. She needed a husband to protect her interests now. Even an inexperienced adolescent or an old man would do. As long as he had a pulse and a respectable name, she’d accept it. This was the only bargaining chip she had left.
Violetta Rand holds a bachelor's degree in Environmental Policy and a master's degree in Environmental Management. Serving as an environmental scientist in the state of Alaska for over seven years, she enjoys the privilege of traveling to remote places few people have the opportunity to see.
Violetta has been "in love" with writing since childhood. Struck with an entrepreneurial spirit at a young age, at five, she wrote short stories illustrated by her best friend and sold them in her neighborhood. The only thing she loves more than writing is her wonderful relationship with her husband, Jeff. She enjoys outdoor activities, reading whatever she can get her hands on, music, and losing herself in the ancient worlds she enjoys bringing to life in the pages of her stories.