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The photograph depicts a sense of

danger and intrigue, in that the

stereoview device is looking

like a weapon and the gold

gloves look ominous. The

positions are accurately

depicting the foreboding

sense one gets reading

about Lady Malice’s

business of meddling

into affairs of

the

Heart.

When the case she

is requested to take on

involves breaking up her own

marriage: Watch out, folks!

This book I had the delight

and honor reading is called,

“The Viking and the Courtesan.”

Shehanne has done it again.

It is quite exciting and uniquely

plotted where a woman who has

a certain lifestyle stands a chance of

losing it all over another pretty

woman’s interest in her husband.

Lady Malice has her business to

carry her through destitute times,

where she is hired to bring in a

woman of the evening to besmirch

and defame the marriage of one

who needs “proof” of this to

get a divorce. Aptly named,

“Strictly Business” keeps

her in fashionable gowns

and Madame Faro’s shoes,

~ * Silver shoes with

pearl-encrusted

buckles, perhaps? * ~

I won’t reveal immediately the

unseemly circumstances, but

must proceed to entreat you

to set aside your distate for

unfaithfulness and hope

for the best! Shoes are her

passion which isn’t at

all distasteful. One parlour

subject matter for women of

breeding and social standing

should help you to rally and

cheer on Lady Malice’s behalf.

A twist revealed on the book cover,

should appeal to adventurous readers

who wish they could travel back in time.

But. . . would you wish to visit or stay

in the ancient year of 898 A.D.?

Incredulously, such a plotline

is designed to transport you

there, becoming attracted

to Sinarr, whose nickname

appropriately is “Sin.”

Imagine a Thor-like

ruggedly handsome,

physically fit man.

He is the proud owner of two

Viking ships, the Raven

and the Reindeer.

Horrors, dear Malice

is found amongst nuns,

when rousing from a foggy

recollection of kissing her

husband, Cyril, in one time frame

only to find her becoming a “bed slave”

in another more rough, primitive time.

She is meant to become a “wedge”

between Sinarr’s betrothed,

“Snotra” and marriage.

Snotra has humiliated Sinarr,

having twice taken another man’s

name in marriage, only to be

finally available (deaths).  Sin

wants her to suffer and wait,

while he pretends to bed her,

taking advantage of Malice’s

1800’s knowledge of romance,

or practical lack of. . .

(A side note: don’t you love these

Viking, vividly rich character names?)

Will Malice once transported back

to correct period in time, miss

wild, passionate Sinarr?

Will she find her love in the

arms of her dear husband again?

There are many humorous situations

with nuns wishing to become

“bed slaves,” while one who

is heavy is called Gentle and

the head nun is Mother Bede.

Finally, Lady Malice finds herself

in not only a quandary about which

time and place she wants to exist in,

she also realizes she is in the ~

“Family Way.”

How embarassing and who

will she choose to be the father?

The story flows along with telltale

items and household details which

are distinctly recognizable for

each historical period.

Both pigs and bed slaves

in Viking cottages create

a funny and fume-filled setting.

The 19th century tea pots, cracked

windowpanes and rustling satin gowns

would hardly seem to be a contest

as to which would be preferable!

Shehanne Moore’s exciting,

romantic historical novel

has just the change of

pace style to keep you

reading as quickly as

you are able, to find out the

surprising and yet, satisfying ending

for Lady Malice Mallender.

Cyril’s story ends as quite modern

in its libertarian point of view.

Sinarr’s story concludes with as

much force and vigor as

Thor’s famous hammer

may thrust. . .

Or so, we hope!

This book is rated

five diamonds out

of five diamonds.

:::::::::::

Photo is taken by reocochran,

 

 

Items depicting an era which

Lady Malice started her

adventures out in.

We used to call

postcard viewing device

a “stereoptican.” My

research found out we had

mislabeled this wooden antique.

EXTRACT……

“Well, I…I do want a divorce but only because…  I mean only so…”

“You can marry her for her money?”

“Malice…I am vexed you think so little of me that I would do that and set the law on you into the bargain…”

Her heart began to pound so loudly it drowned the strains of the Haydn minuet drifting through the open doors. After all these years. Years in which she had waited. Abandoned hope in. Lived like a drudge at times on a penurious income. She had him at a disadvantage. She reached inside her reticule.

“So you can live in a state you should like to become accustomed to? Ruining her as you have me?”

“Well, the thing is, the thing was, I had no choice regarding the law. That woman you sent to do whatever she was meant to do, she let you down badly.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure that your other ladies aren’t so workshy. Why, your business came highly recommended.”

She unfolded the square of gauze. His expression as she placed the square on her head then arranged it over her face was worth a king’s ransom.  “That woman was me.”

Every scrap of color drained from his face. Not that there had been a great deal to start with. There never was. It was one of his many attractions, what gave him that boyish look at the age of thirty.

“You?”

“Yes Cyril.”

“Y-you mean… Well, Malice.” Give him his dues, his recovery was excellent. But then it had every reason to be.  “May I say how very—”

“You may say nothing. But I will say I think we will agree there will be no divorce. How can there be when we are so very happy, so joyous together?”

“I don’t—”

“That I am having your child?”

“What?”

Was it any wonder his eyes widened? Widened so the wonder was they didn’t pop clean out his head and ping about the paving slabs? She tilted her chin. If there was ever a doubt she shouldn’t do this, that moment was past. What was he going to do? Have it all over London his wife ran a marriage wrecking business? That he was a cad who stole from the woman he had abandoned? Hardly. No, the man was a leech she would do well to stay married to. And one who would support her from now on.

“Yes, husband dearest. From that night, the one that was so special to both of us.”

“That’s a damned lie. That night you disappeared. Vanished right before my eyes. I shut them for a second. One second only and poof.” He snapped his fingers. Indeed, his face had contorted with such rage, the only wonder was  he didn’t snap more with his fingers, he didn’t snap her neck.  “If it was so damned special how come I don’t remember the first damned thing about it?”