Places stayed. Hovingham – one free night. The Worsley Arms.
Easingwold – The George Hotel.
Places would stay again – 1
Places visited. Hovingham, Coxwold, Helmsley, Easingwold, York, Ampleforth Estates.
Places driven through by mistake…rather a lot. …
Places not stayed. The Old Vicarage Easingwold now closed.
Walks – Ampleforth Estates. York Walls
Hecklers spotted- One
Attractions visited – Railway Museum York
Attractions not visited. The Minster- there was a wedding on as in NOT just the ceremony….place closed.
Kippers spotted – On the menu
Pubs visited – The George Hotel, Easingwold, Yorkshire Terrier, Three Legged Mare, Guy Fawkes,York. Fauconberg Arms, Coxwold -where Malice spent her non wedding night with her her cousin/hubby in the Viking and The Coutesan backstory. The Malt and Shovel, Hovingham.
Faux Pubs – The Cricketers Arms, Hovingham.
Alcohol consumed – No telling.
Dundee mentions – one
Book character mentions- one
Pairs of shoes and boots worn – all of them.
‘Twice, the sight of him had almost caused her to expire. When she had walked into the church at Coxwold and seen him standing there with a carnation in his lapel—their wedding day—and then that night in his apartment. Very well. She lied. It was thrice. When she had knocked on the door of his room at the little inn across from the church.
Now, seeing him chucking wine down his throat as if the vineyard was about to run dry, casting his eye over some serving girl–her backside rather—and wagering what Lady Grace possessed, nausea rose in her gorge. When she considered a man who made her heart pound–a man who she should not be thinking of here–her heart also pounded wastefully. Whatever the problem with Cyril—and there were a good twenty dozen—you knew where you stood with him. That was nowhere at all.
She glided closer. She had come to speak with him, wife to husband. And she had chosen here to do it because it was public. Those who thought the sun shone from the backend of his brown velvet breeches had a lot to learn.
“My lord.”
Of course, she might have known Cyril would be more interested in looking at her breasts than her face. Maybe she should have ventured in here topless? Still, at least he was looking at her.
“Cyril. Husband.”
Now that jerked his chin up. If ever there was a way to bring a dog to heel, this was surely it.
“I knew I should find you here before me, my dearest. And involved in a wager too. My lords, you must excuse Cyril, especially when he does not possess the money to pay any debts. And, we are shortly to require every penny we own.”
“Malice?” He peered at her closely. “Malice? Is that you?”
“Most certainly it’s not Aunt Carter’s silver teapot, my dearest husband.”
“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?”
“‘Malice Mallender, the heroine of The Viking and the Courtesan, is not nearly as malicious as her name suggests. She is just trying to survive in the harsh world of 19th century London by running a business that breaks up people’s marriages. She’s also trying to distract herself from her unhappy personal life by obsessing about shoes. But one day, a lady enters her establishment who asks Malice to break up her own marriage.
Now, this is what I like about Malice: she quickly comes up with a plan not only to avoid the breakup of her marriage, but also to cement it for the future.
Just as she is about to seduce Cyril, her rakish husband, she is swept away to the Middle Ages, where she is abducted by the incredibly handsome viking Sin Gudrunsson.
The heroine is faced with some grim historic realities, such as being the property of a Viking, but she also eventually finds out that her captor is not as ruthless as he appears. Could he actually turn out to be the first man ever to find her attractive?
I really enjoyed reading about Malice’s adventures because she’s so wonderfully awkward. But then again, who wouldn’t act awkwardly when thrust into the midst of an unfamiliar Viking world? Only an idealized heroine, which Malice is not. Don’t get me wrong, she’s tough, and not in that token way that romance heroines sometimes have where they can take out eight desperadoes armed with nothing but a can opener.
Malice is tough because she has been forced to survive on her own in dire economic straits. She lives by her wits, whether in 19th century London or 8th century Norway.
Shehanne Moore portrays Malice’s personality so well that the reader unquestioningly accepts that the heroine will “swallow a crocodile” as she likes to say, if push comes to shove. Of course, she would rather use her guile and talk the crocodile into eating its Aunt Sally.
My overall impression of The Viking and the Courtesan is it’s like the Outlander on crack, and I mean that in a good way. While I enjoyed reading Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, I sometimes found the pacing a little slow.
In contrast, Viking and Courtesan moves the plot forward at a dizzying speed, and it kept me compulsively turning the pages wondering what will befall the unfortunate Malice next, and unexpectedly for such a dramatic tale, enjoying many laughs along the way. It’s a must-read for all fans of historical fiction.
Enchanted by romance on page and screen, I have always tried to write my own numerous versions of the perfect fairytale. No matter whether the story takes place in Ancient Rome or on one of the moons of Jupiter, romance always beguiles and charms us with its fairy tale magic. My first inspiration to sit down and write came from watching the movie The Princess Bride.
This was a “modern” fairy tale with plenty of action, humour, and of course, true love. I resolved that my stories should have the same light-hearted, fun, and romantic spirit.
As for real life… I believe I may have already found the man of my dreams, but I still haven’t found the dog of my dreams. Currently, I am obsessed with greyhounds, but I live in an apartment that doesn’t allow pets. I guess this means my perfect dog is still a fantasy, and I hope it is a story yet to be told…
I usually live on the west coast of Canada, but I’m currently in Oxford, UK, not actually attending the university but absorbing all the smartness that emanates from its general vicinity.
Lady Malice :Not a great deal. I’m not from Viking times.
Lady Malice: What is this? Twenty questions? Calculating how many pairs of shoes I can have from a hundred guineas is much more my forte.
Sin : Do let me help you out here, sweeting and let you get back to counting your shoes. Elves represent the souls of the dead that still reside in the world. The dark elves are those in purgatory, the fair elves are those souls who are immortal .
Lady Malice : Elves wear such hideous shoes.
Almost as bad as Viking ones.
Sin : I’m going to ignore that.
Also at the start of the winter…the date was later moved to All Soul’s Day… we hold a feast, and a sacrifice for a good season. An animal sacrifice. Midwinter is the time of ghosts and spirits, and more importantly of placating them after all. It’s nothing personal.
Sin : And we wear masks…. Animal masks…
Lady Malice : Sin, you scared them. They probably thought they were going to be the sacrifice or something….. Well, never let it be said, we didn’t come bearing gifts for their Halloween party.
Masks.
A very special recipe…..Just the the thing to make them come back out of hiding.
Or maybe not……….
Blod Kaker
(Filled Cake)
5 egg yolks
2 cups sugar
2 cups flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. cold water
Beat egg yolks very thoroughly, until pale and thick. Fold in other ingredients. Bake in buttered cake pan for 1/2 hour. Cut in 3 layers. Moisten with sherry or lemon juice and water. Fill with fruit, chocolate, or custard. Cover with heavy coating of unsweetened whipped cream.
And of course because they are my favourite things after you my dearest, some Halloween shoes for them to put their little paws into …
Enough. Now, history has portrayed Vikings as violent, piratical, pillaging heathens who took to the sea in their droves to wreak mayhem on the tribes of Europe.
Today we bring them in from the cold and show that Hagar the horrible wasn’t so horrible after all, that Vikings are greatly misunderstood and a lot of the stuff said about them stems from early Christian misunderstandings about paganism. Are we ready dudes?
Right dudes. Enough. These things are things I did explore in my new book. Obviously the hero is a raider AND obviously no heroine worth her salt is just going to accept this. But there were a number of misconceptions that he puts her right on.
In fact there is no proof Vikings had horns. Well… Certainly not horned helmets. Putting aside the fact that no helmet with horns has ever been found, just consider will you, the difficulties of fighting, or moving about a very cramped long ship where space was at a premium and you slept where you sat, with the equivalent of a ram’s horns stuck on your head? It would give a whole new meaning to counting sheep.
Now my heroine might say that for the life of her she can’t understand why, but the fact was some Saxon women did. So when it came to raping and pillaging, of course that went on. These were barbaric times. However some Saxon women did find the Vikings attractive. Why?
Vikings were actually clean. Combs, tweezers, razors are frequently found in excavation sites. And they liked to bathe. Often houses had their own bath house if there was a heated spring nearby. As Malice finds out they also had soap, usually made from chestnuts. Not only were the Vikings cleaner than their Saxon counterparts, there was another reason some women liked them.
Yes. Apparently it didn’t just take the pressure off Saxon men to do that but the church preached that desire was a sin.
Okay. So the Vikings did raid. The problem was the way in which property was inherited. Unless you had a nice big brother, you were going to be left out in the cold. So, the younger sons turned to raiding, like my hero has. Also the big brothers didn’t just have a patch of land. They had acres, banjoing their baby brothers off the park. The Vikings were mainly famers though. Many settled in the lands they’d raided.
Which in turn brings us to
When they returned to their homes they laid their swords at the door. A wife’s word was law in Viking households. SO? Bloodthirsty and nothing else? I don’t think so. Also a number of Christian women married Vikings who had no objection to their religion despite pillaging churches..yes.
Totally abhorrent. But so did the Saxons. While re-inventing the Vikings, we need to set them in the context of their time.
But I’m reckoning over the piece Hagar wasn’t so horrible after all
Right dudes, Enough. Today, we are indeed going to sound it for a secondary character and welcome Gentle, from The Viking and The Courtesan. Gentle is a Saxon lady whose husband dumped her in a convent in order to get his mitts on her money and she is a sort of cook. She and the heroine Malice, initially loathe one another on sight and cross swords on several occasions but do forge a friendship. So, without further ado, let’s welcome her and hear a bit about…..
Ccooking up a feast in Viking Norway.
Hello Shehanne, it’s so nice of you really to ask me here. I’m a very plain cook.
In fact, so plain, I don’t mind what I throw in the pot.
See, from what I see round here, the Vikings ain’t fussy either. Lady Poshluggs- that’s Malice by the way, just don’t tell her I still call her that–turned up her nose at reindeer stew, when it was a delicacy it took me all day to burn..sorry prepare.
The amount of cabbage and turnip I gets asked to boil is no-one’s business. And nuts, if I eats another nut, I will go just that. Though at least they do like their ale and mead. And so do I.
Now, where was I? Oh yes. Having another tankard. I gets to do a lot of filling of them in the book. And not just other peoples’ neither when the occasional back is turned, although that Snotra has got eyes in the back of her head as well as the front I can tell you. She’s got a tongue like a whip too which is why I can’t linger.
Now, you didn’t seem to like my Reindeer Stew recipe. Or my eels. So here’s my Viking soup recipe.
½ kg of trout, salmon, cod or another fish.
10-12 cups of water
Salt
One cup of milk
3-5 cups of herb such as the top shoots of stinging nettles, young dandelion leaves, ashweed, wild chervil, cress, wild marjorum, dill, plantain, angelica, wild onions, caraway greenery, parsley, thyme, … or whatever the season has to offer.
Clean the fish, wash and cut into small pieces.
The slices of fish must be cooked until they are tender. This takes 20-30 minutes.
Put the cooked fish slices on a dish and bone them.
Put the fish back in the soup. Add the milk and chopped herbs.
The soup should now cook for about 20-30 minutes adding salt as desired. Then it is ready to be served. Fish soup can be served with flatbread.
A little dab of butter in the soup tastes good!
Although, with a little MEAT in it now…..
And now, my Creme Bastarde recipe.
4 hamster ….sorry, forgive me my transgressions, that should have read, egg whites, beaten as much as Snotra likes to beat everyone in sight.
2 cups cream
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup milk
pinch salt
2 tsp sugar
Beat the egg whites until just frothy. Mix into cream and bring to a boil slowly, stirring continuously. Simmer for about five more minutes, stirring continuously. Add the honey, the salt. Keep stirring. Then pour through a strainer. Add the rest of the milk and the sugar and then beat it for a couple of minutes. Allow to cool. You know something you would be better buying a tin of custard, a tin opener. I’m sure Creme Custarde is what it should have said and it gives you more time with the mead you see…..
Extract.
“Gentle.” His voice rumbled so close to Malice’s spine, it stiffened. “I thought I told you to go indoors?”
“But you also told me she’s got a handmaiden, Drottin. She won’t want me. Isn’t there something else I can do? Plough the fields? Build walls? Or cook…”
“Gentle…”
The huffed breath didn’t just say no. It said if she didn’t shut up she wouldn’t be anything. How was that? The man was made of ice. And it was hardening?
“And take Mother Bede with you, till I decide what to do with her.”
“But—”
“Sir, I can plough.” Malice couldn’t. Only think what it would do to her hands. Only think what it would do to her back. Only think of that moment when he held her on the Raven more. What if she liked it? Being his bed slave? What if she didn’t want to go home? What if Snotra set about her with the meat mallet?
I have had villains is all my books–sometimes more than one. Until now the record for the most cardboardy has been held by Lady Margaret. Lady Fury’s mother in law but even she had her reasons for acting as she did. Snotra, my new villain is –hands up– the most obvious villain I’ve written. She’s pushy, driven, money-orientated, insulting, nasty, bossy, argumentative, greedy and determined to have her own way and the hero at all costs.
I had such fun writing her, I didn’t even try to disguise her. So I think to be true to that second quote card about villains up above, we should hear her side of things…
Dudes, let’s let Snotra answer all right.
Snotra: Rats? I am being interviewed by rats?
Dudes… settle down okay?
Snotra: You have rat poison. Yes?
Snotra:That woman, that one who my betrothed brought back from England, Malice and her fat ragbag friend, Gentle. Oh, very well, you don’t think these women were villains and I did not see what they were up to, playing me off against Sinarr, talking about me behind my back, stealing my beloved? Obviously you don’t. Well, do you know Shehanne asked that fav villain question the other day on facebook and it was Moriarty, Cruella Deville and Raoul Silva from Skyfall who topped the list. Why was my name not there? Because I am a very nice person. Now would you like some Viking mead? I ‘meade’ it specially.
Snotra:Well, I could say Sinarr and I had known each other since we were children and the way had been hard for me, having no money. But the fact is Shehanne needed a device, a device to show the hero and the heroine’s otherwise questionable actions – him in taking a bed slave, her in conniving behind my back to get back to her own time and all that happened afterwards– in a sympathetic light. When she first wrote me she wrote me nice. But then she saw the problem she had created. The hero of the book had brought home a bed slave. It made him, not me, look bad.
Then you should swop them for horns. I have just the pair with poison tipped pins… Anyway, that is why Shehanne
decided that I should have twice chosen money over my betrothed, why I should call Malice and Gentle names and all these other things, including trying to burn them. We villains are very nice people but these authors need us. And what they need is us NOT to be nice. Behind the scenes Malice and I are the very best of friends….
Next question?
Snotra : Shehanne says it here,
To that I would add,
1 Your villain should NOT drive the plot. We should leave that to the flaws of the heroine and hero. Believe me, Malice and Sinarr had so many, I quite lost count. A villain is only so-oh bad. It might even be that they can come good….. Especially in ridding the world of rodents.
Snotra. You see.
Snotra : Apart from asking you to drink from my poisoned chalice, you mean you can’t guess?
Snotra :
Extract. The Viking and the Courtesan.
“My apologies for getting right in your way, mistress.”
No doubt Gentle would have far rather said something else but the thought of being turfed out into the rain presently battering the thatched roof and spitting on the roaring fire so the flames sizzled, probably prevented her.
“It’s all right, Gentle. You are so fat we all know you can’t help it. How you never sank the Raven on the way here is a miracle of Odin. We know it was so you could come here and be my giant house-slave that you were spared.”
“Snotra…”
“Oh, don’t frown, Sinarr, you of all people are not going to dispute it.” Give Snotra her due, she knew how to keep the crowd in her orbit by flicking her gaze over the opposition. “She’s a cart-horse. Do you know, Ari, that is why he never chose her for his bed slave? If she was in his bed she’d break it. Here. Drink up. Enjoy. You might as well savour all this house has to offer.”
In 898 AD she wasn’t just from another land.
Wrecking a marriage is generally no problem for the divorce obtaining, Lady Malice Mallender. But she faces a dilemma when she’s asked to ruin her own. Just how businesslike should she remain when the marriage was never consummated and kissing her husband leads to Sin–a handsome Viking who wants her for a bed slave in name only?
She came from another time.
Viking raider Sin Gudrunsson wants one thing. To marry his childhood sweetheart. Only she’s left him before, so he needs to keep her on her toes, and a bed slave, in name only, seems just the thing. Until he meets Malice.
One kiss is all it takes to flash between two worlds
But when one kiss is no longer enough, which will it be? Regency London? Or Viking Norway? Will Malice learn what governs the flashes? Can Sin?
Where worlds collide can love melt the iciest heart?
Delirious as a blowtorch and begotten in the luminosity of love — This is the infamous out-of-orbit literary journal that delivers storytelling fit for a gathering around fire. Home to unpredictable fiction, revealing personal essays, bitter social assessments, subversive hymns, underwater obscenities, uplifting bad news, veiled confessions, hints of the erotic... And maybe even some dicey advice.
"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.
She glided closer. She had come to speak with him, wife to husband. And she had chosen here to do it because it was public. Those who thought the sun shone from the backend of his brown velvet breeches had a lot to learn. 
shehanne moore 
