Wolf of the Nordic Seas (Valiant Vikings Book 2) by Jennifer Ivy Walker

If you enjoy your Vikings accompanied by interfering supernatural creatures with agendas, and fate turning up uninvited, Wolf of the Nordic Seas wastes no time delivering exactly that. Scroll down to read my five star review! 

Wolf of the Nordic Seas
 (Valiant Vikings Book 2) 
By Jennifer Ivy Walker

Book Title: Wolf of the Nordic Seas

Series: (Valiant Vikings Book 2) 

Author Name: Jennifer Ivy Walker

Publication Date: 

Publisher: Green Mermaid Publications

Print Length: 357 Pages

Genre: Historical Romance / Norse Mythology / Fantasy

Named after the Norse God of the Sea, Njörd grew up sailing, swimming, and fishing the fjords of Norway. Endowed with extraordinary senses, speed, and strength, he became known as Wolf of the Nordic Seas, leading lucrative Viking raids from the Baltic shores to the Black and Caspian Seas. When a Viking völva foretells his future through a seidr vision, Njörd learns that his fate and his mate—the siren with the sea goddess eyes—lie on the alabaster coast of Normandy in the distant Land of the White Chalk Cliffs.

Elfi Thorfinnsdóttir is a skilled shieldmaiden who seeks vengeance against the ruthless Frankish count who killed her brother and abducted her father in an attempt to seize her clifftop castle. But rather that submit to the count’s relentless demand for her hand in marriage, Elfi allies with Richard the Fearless—the Viking Duke of Normandy— and the Danish Jarl of Ribe known as the Wolf of the Nordic Seas.

As Elfi and Njörd discover startling secrets about their respective pasts, they find that the three Norns have entwined the threads of their fates not just as political allies, but as mates destined to fulfill a divine prophecy.

Wolf of the Nordic Seas— book 2 of the Valiant Vikings series set in tenth century Normandy— is a sizzling, scintillating blend of historical fiction, Norse mythology, paranormal fantasy, and steamy Viking romance!

I opened Wolf of the Nordic Seas expecting some Vikings, a bit of romance, and perhaps the odd battle. What I got instead was elves plotting, wolves doing decidedly un-wolf-like things, and fate stomping about like it owns the place. Subtle, this book is not—and honestly, that’s half the fun.

Right from the start, the story makes it very clear that the mortal world is only part of what’s going on. Humans may think they’re making decisions, but the gods, the Norns, and various supernatural beings are hovering just out of sight, tugging threads and nudging events along. Every time you think, “Ah, this feels settled,” along comes a prophecy or vision to remind you that absolutely nothing is settled.

The elves are where things really start to spiral in the best possible way. The clash between the Ljósálfar and the Dökkálfar adds a whole extra layer of chaos, and it’s hard not to enjoy how unapologetically mythic it all is. These aren’t polite, distant creatures—they’re ambitious, dangerous, and deeply invested in using the human world as their battleground. Every appearance comes with the sense that someone, somewhere, has just made things much worse.

Then there are the wolves. Not just wolves, of course—this is Norse mythology, so naturally they come with teeth, loyalty, and a tendency to blur the line between man and beast. Every time they enter the story, you know things are about to get intense, possibly violent, and definitely unforgettable.

And yes, there’s a lot of romance too, threaded through all this divine chaos. The gods have mate-fated the protagonists, which works out nicely, seeing as eternity would be rather awkward if the attraction didn’t go both ways. The passion is real, occasionally inconvenient, and adds just enough heat to remind you that mortals are just as capable of questionable decisions as the gods who meddle in their lives.

By the end, Wolf of the Nordic Seas feels like a full-throttle dive into Norse myth, complete with gods who won’t mind their business, creatures who refuse to stay in their lanes, and humans doing their best to survive in the middle of it all. If you enjoy fantasy that leans into its mythology with confidence and a wink, this one is an absolute ride.

This book is utterly amazing and so much fun. You can find your copy over on Amazon, and get this, it is free to read with #KindleUnlimited.

Jennifer Ivy Walker

Jennifer Ivy Walker is an award-winning author of medieval Celtic, Nordic, and paranormal romance, as well as contemporary romance, historical fantasy, and WWII romantic suspense.

A former high school teacher and college professor of French with an MA in French literature, her novels encompass a love for French language, literature, history, and culture, including Celtic myths and legends, Norse mythology, Viking sagas, and Nordic lore.

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Book Review: Quillan Creek and the Little War: Time Stones Book I by Ian Hunter

 

Quillan Creek and the Little War: 
Time Stones Book I 
By Ian Hunter

Jessie Mason lives with her nose in the pages of history. But she is about to discover that the past is a dangerous place where she doesn't belong, and knowledge alone is not going to save her.

In Jessie’s troubled life her aunt is the only constant and comfort she has. But when she inexplicably disappears, and Jessie uncovers her mother's Time Stone, that unhappy life turns unreal and terrifying.

She is summoned to a world in crisis, 250 years in her past, to three unlikely companions, and the aged Onondaga shaman, Nishkamich, who promises an education in the powers of the stones which they each possess.

Over one glorious summer, Jessie reluctantly settles to village life and the developing bond with her prickly friends, until they are forced to accept that their stones are being hunted through history.

But in the depths of winter, their friendship, their wits, and the very limits of their endurance, will be tested by an unforgiving Nature as war finally erupts around them.

Oh brilliant, a quiet read before bed, I thought. Next thing I know people are falling through time, soldiers are charging about, and I’m emotionally attached to four teenagers clutching suspiciously powerful stones while history itself starts wobbling. This book does not ease you in gently; it grabs you by the collar and drops you straight into the wilderness with a firm “good luck”.

Jessie barely has time to process where she is before everything goes wrong again. One minute modern life, the next she’s staring at a world that looks familiar but feels completely wild and alive. And just as you start to catch your breath, in tumble the others from entirely different times, equally confused and absolutely not prepared for any of this. I spent a good portion of the opening chapters mentally yelling, “Just stay together and don’t touch anything else magical!”

The group dynamic is gloriously messy at first. Nobody fully trusts anyone, everyone’s frightened, and cultural misunderstandings pop up left and right. But slowly, through danger and necessity, they begin to click. Not in a grand heroic speech sort of way, but in the small moments: shared watches in the dark, hesitant questions, split-second decisions to protect one another. Before you know it, you’re fiercely protective of all of them.

Hovering over it all is the weary, wise shaman who clearly knows far more than he has time to explain. Every time he appears you get that sinking feeling of “this is important, pay attention”, because the threat hunting those stones is not messing about. There’s a constant sense that something nasty is drawing closer, and that these kids are very much underqualified for the job fate has handed them.

It’s tense, heartfelt, occasionally brutal, and surprisingly funny in places thanks to the sheer absurdity of their situation. You get sweeping forests, sudden violence, ancient magic, and teenagers trying very hard not to make everything worse. I laughed, I worried, and I absolutely muttered “oh no, don’t do that” more than once.

In short, this is time travel with teeth, adventure with heart, and a band of unlikely allies you can’t help rooting for. If you enjoy stories where history collides with magic and ordinary people are forced to become brave very quickly, you’ll be grinning, gasping, and turning pages far too late into the night.

***

You can grab your copy of this book over on Amazon. And get this, if you have #KindleUnlimited you can read for free - can't say fairer than that!

Oh, and incase you are not convinced to buy this book from my review, then check out what other people have said about it:

"...the kind of book that one would forgo sleep to finish." 

The Coffee Pot Book Club

"...fantastical and riveting." 

booklife 

"...an exciting adventure for readers with unforgettable companions." 

The Book Commentary 

***

Ian Hunter

Books have been an important part of my life as long as I can remember, and at 54 years old, that’s a lot of books. My earliest memories of reading are CS Lewis’, “The Horse and His Boy” – by far the best of the Narnia books, the Adventures series by Willard Price, and “Goalkeepers are Different” by sports journalist Brian Glanville. An eclectic mix. My first English teacher was surprised to hear that I was reading, Le Carré, Ken Follett, Nevil Shute and “All the Presidents’ Men” by Woodward and Bernstein at the age of 12. I was simply picking up the books my father had finished.

School syllabus threw up the usual suspects – Shakespeare, Chaucer, Dickens, Hardy, “To Kill a Mockingbird” – which I have reread often, and others I don’t immediately recall. By “A” level study, my then English teachers were pulling their hair out at my “perverse waste of talent” – I still have the report card! But I did manage a pass.

During a 35 year career, briefly in Banking and then in IT, I managed to find time, with unfailing family support, to study another lifelong passion, graduating with an Open University Bachelors’ degree in History in 2002. This fascination with all things historical inspired me to begin the Time Stones series. There is so much to our human past, and so many differing views on what is the greatest, and often the saddest, most tragic story. I decided I wanted to write about it; to shine a small light on those, sometimes pivotal stories, which are less frequently mentioned.

In 1995, my wife, Michelle, and I moved from England to southern Germany, where we still live, with our two children, one cat, and, when she pays us a visit, one chocolate labrador. I have been fortunate that I could satisfy another wish, to travel as widely as possible and see as much of our world as I can. Destinations usually include places of historic and archaeological interest, mixed with a large helping of sun, sea and sand for my wife’s peace of mind.

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Gradarius Roman: Equestrian Series by A.M. Swink

Gradarius

Roman Equestrian Series

By A.M. Swink

WAR IS ON THE HORIZON

Sworn enemies turned lovers, Decimus and Luciana face new challenges that put their love to the test. Decimus, haunted by his past, struggles with his feelings in the present. Luciana, when confronted with her old friend Boudicca's struggles, questions which of her loyalties is more important: her loyalty to Decimus, or her loyalty to her people? When sent to investigate a Roman traitor in Decimus's legion, both will have to decide which side of the coming battle they'll be on.

Rome and Britannia are hurtling toward a reckoning. Will Decimus and Luciana find a way forward together before war tears them apart?

Excerpt

‘Wedge! On me!’ Decimus beckoned with his gladius. Shields linked up on either side of his as the men fell into formation. Plancus, holding the cohort standard aloft, walked behind him. To his right, Vulso took up a rallying yell: ‘Gemina!’ The rest of the men added their voices, turning heads as they marched. They engulfed their beleaguered comrades on the right flank, investing the Romans with fresh energy.

Decimus didn’t stop until his gladius crashed against an enemy sword. He quickly brought his shield up, blocking the brute’s parry. He sought his next thrust. The large Briton overcorrected, throwing his sword up to steady himself. Decimus snaked forward, plunging his blade deep in his enemy’s armpit. The warrior howled as Decimus twisted the gladius away. His skin parted with a horrible sucking noise, dark blood spouting from the wound. As the man tumbled away, Decimus’s eyes widened in recognition. It was the wiry fellow from the Silure capital, the friend of the warrior who’d nearly revealed Decimus’s true identity.

An icy finger of dread pierced his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut. Mithras god, he silently prayed, please don’t let Luciana be here. The very thought of facing the woman he loved on a battlefield was enough to make his stomach churn.

As the warrior staggered off, clutching his haemorrhaging wound, Decimus lifted his eyes. He glimpsed two men bearing the old crone Luciana had called the Ancient One. The trio surveyed the scene from the safety of the treeline. The woman’s wrinkled old face gazed expressionlessly at the violence. Her long white hair melded with her shroud, enveloping her in an otherworldly cocoon. Just before her, Taraghlan the druid waved his staff about, chanting angry curses.

Then these sights were lost to him as another warrior charged, poised to strike. The smaller, lither figure rushed up in a blue whirl, his long ponytail flying behind him. He lifted his sword high and knocked the butt against Decimus’s helmet, momentarily stunning him. Decimus came to before he planted his face against the warrior’s woad-painted chest, the aroma of sweat heavy in his nostrils. He lifted his shield, catching the warrior on the chin. The Briton yowled as he stepped back, sword arm brushing Decimus’s shoulder. The blade harmlessly grazed his cuirass and kerchief, nicking only the leather ties securing his helmet, before falling away. 

Decimus retracted behind his shield, awaiting the warrior’s next attack. When the screaming Silure charged at him, Decimus jabbed it up at just the right moment. The shield’s iron boss crushed the Silure’s nose. The man swung his weapon wildly over Decimus’s shield rim, his war cry petering into a whine. Decimus curtly knocked the blade aside with his gladius and pressed forward. The warrior toppled onto his back. Pausing only to stab the man’s groin, Decimus stepped back into the protection of the wedge.

He didn’t see the threat hurtling towards him until it was too late.

‘Sir!’

Decimus turned to see Morcant nearly upon him, dark eyes feverishly bright. The chieftain charged, sword whirling aloft. He was too close when Decimus finally saw him, swinging towards his unguarded neck before he could react. Just as Morcant’s blade sang for his throat, Vulso’s shield punched its way between them. 

Decimus stumbled aside at the shove, his crested helmet toppling off in the grass. He recovered his balance and turned to see Morcant had nearly cleaved Vulso’s shield in twain, rendering it useless. As he wrestled his sword free of the twisted wood and metal, Vulso jabbed with his gladius. The short blade disappeared into Morcant’s shoulder, and he roared. He stepped back with such force that Vulso lost his grip on the hilt before he could recover his gladius.

Vulso fumbled frantically for his dagger. Decimus watched in growing horror as the chieftain rallied again for his next assault. He lurched towards them, knowing he was already too late.

‘Vulso! No!’

Vulso helplessly lifted his busted shield to repulse Morcant’s charge. The chieftain’s sword passed directly through its gaping tear and impaled Vulso through the throat.

Decimus watched Vulso’s head snap back. The pointed edge of Morcant’s blade emerged from the nape of his neck. His eyes rolled sightlessly towards the sky, his gaping mouth spewing blood.

‘Bastard!’ Decimus screamed, pummelling his shield into Morcant’s side. The chieftain backed up with the force of the blow and neatly recovered, turning his attention to the helmetless centurion.

Decimus crouched behind his shield, panting. His trembling hand gripped his gladius at the ready.

The Silure chieftain frowned slightly, taking in the distinctive scar along Decimus’s cheek. His eyes roved up to the recently stitched line over Decimus’s brow. His gaze widened with shock. ‘Leucus!’ He growled.

His low, rasping voice curdled Decimus’s blood. It was a shade from the mouth of Hades, calling him home. Gathering himself, Decimus thrust forward, lifting the tip of his gladius to Morcant.

The weapons rang with a deafening clang as they met, blades glinting in the sun. They fell away and met again, each man thrusting his shield at the other. The blackened stumps of Morcant’s fingers, curled round the gilded hilt of his sword, hauntingly reminded Decimus of their confrontation last winter. Here they were again, back to finish what they’d started so many months ago. This time, he knew, at least one of them would die.

If this book piques your interest then head over to your favourite bookstore.

A. M. Swink

A.M. Swink, the author of the award-winning Roman Equestrian series, grew up in Dayton, Ohio, obsessed with two things: books and horses. After a childhood of reading, writing, showing, and riding, she moved to Lexington, Kentucky to complete three degrees and work as a college professor of reading and writing.

She’s travelled extensively around Europe, exploring ancient sites and artefacts relating to the Iron Age and Roman era. She is fascinated by our connection to the past and the ancestral tether that draws us back into the mists of time.

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The Witch of Godstow Abbey (Murders in the Abbey, Book #2) by Lady Harriet & Dr. Peter Stephenson

The Witch of Godstow Abbey

(Murders in the Abbey, Book #2)

By Lady Harriet & Dr. Peter Stephenson

Publication Date: October 18th, 2025

Publisher: Historium Press

Pages: 246

Genre: Historical Mystery / Medieval Mystery

A widowed academic investigating strange historical practices gets drawn back in time and into the year 1299 in Oxford. Join a cast of compelling characters-nuns, novices and outsiders-as they battle the forces of darkness. Enter their struggle against evil, clandestine organizations. Join their life-threatening fight to protect each other, be willing to die for each other, and occasionally fall in love.

Will heroic love and righteous pursuit of justice triumph? Will the horror-inducing villain be found out and overthrown? Or will the courageous troop of those fighting for what is good be overpowered and taken captive?

Set in Oxford, England, in the year 1299, a struggle takes place between the sisters of the local convent and a strange, terrifying local evil society. They discover a secret organization of men who perform unspeakable deeds. The lives of several sisters are in danger.

Join Mother Alice, Sister Agnes and Isabel, along with Lady Beatrix and Lady Harriet, as they confront and do battle with an evil, secret society intent on attacking them, taking over the convent and sacrificing a young woman.

If you love stories that keep you turning pages while imparting fascinating accounts of the past, this latest mystery in the "Murders in the Abbey" series will tingle your spine.

Praise for The Witch of Godstow Abbey:

'Richly atmospheric and quietly gripping, "The Witch of Godstow Abbey" is a worthy addition to your bookshelf.'

~ Yarde Book Promotion, 5* Editorial Review

Excerpt

From Chapter 5 - A Summoning by the Abbess

“Sisters… Mother… there is a man without,” she stammered, her breath coming in quick gasps. “His robes—they mark him as a man of high station. He demands… he demands an audience with you, Mother… and with you, Sister Agnes.”

She scarce finished before a tall figure darkened the threshold, stepping into the chambers unbidden. Clad in the stark robes of a Dominican friar, he was a man of formidable presence—broad-shouldered, silver-gray hair, his face lined with purpose.

His long white tunic, bound at the waist with a simple belt, stood in stark contrast to the heavy black cappa that draped his form. With a slow, deliberate motion, he cast back his hood, revealing a tonsured pate.

His keen gaze swept the chamber, lingering on each woman in turn. The weight of the Church had arrived.

Then, in a voice that tolerated no contradiction, he spoke, addressing only Mother Alice.

"By order of His Holiness, Pope Boniface, Vicar of Christ and Supreme Pontiff, I am bid to speak with you at once regarding matters of grave concern to Holy Mother Church. I am his emissary, Friar Thomas de Glanville, a Dominican inquisitor in disciplina. (Inquisitor charged with matters of Church discipline.)

“Mother Alice de Gorges, this abbey stands at the pleasure of His Holiness. Should these whispers that have reached the ears of His Holiness bear truth, Holy Church may strip you of your charge, excommunicate you, and name you among the heretics.”

A silence fell over the chamber, heavy as the stones that framed its walls.

Doesn't this book sounds amazing? You can grab your copy at your favourite bookstore!

Lady Harriet

Lady Harriet holds the legal title “Lady of the Manor,” as defined under English law, and traces her ancestry to Charlemagne’s royal line.

A lifelong reader and devoted genealogist for nearly fifty years, Harriet has always had a passion for stories, whether they are buried in the past or found in the pages of a good book. She is the co-author of We Are Manx, a self-published family saga that explores her Manx heritage and the history of the Isle of Man in rich detail.

She’s also a photographer who prefers being behind the lens, a word lover addicted to word games, and a fan of wooden jigsaw puzzles. She has traveled extensively, with a deep appreciation for history, diverse cultures, and the unexpected joys that can be found away from home. Her career spanned volunteerism, real estate, and systems administration, but now she happily devotes her time to more creative pursuits.

As she puts it: “I’m old enough for Medicare, but not quite old enough to get a birthday card from King Charles—were I a Brit.”

The Witch of Godstow Abbey, written in partnership with Dr. Peter Stephenson, marks her first (but certainly not last) foray into historical fiction. With photography, she creates books of images; with storytelling, she creates images made of words.

Dr. Peter Stephenson

Dr. Peter Stephenson has written or contributed to over twenty books, all but one of which are non-fiction technical books. He has published over 1,000 papers in technical journals, technical trade journals, and peer-reviewed legal journals. One of his peer-reviewed papers has over 15,400 downloads.

In addition to writing, Dr. Stephenson has been playing blues and Americana music for 70 years. It is through that performing, and after earning a PhD from Oxford Brookes University, that he was given the appellation “Doc” by the owner of one of his performance venues.

Having visited Oxford several times and being employed by a UK company in nearby Malvern, it was only natural that he would set his tales in Oxfordshire. His academic experience in Oxford town sealed the deal and resulted in his first historical novel, The Whispering Dead of Rewley Abbey—Book 1 in the “Murders in the Abbey” series—which reached the Amazon Kindle bestseller list and won a Pencraft award for literary excellence in the winter of 2025. He now writes with his collaborator and writing partner, Lady Harriet.

Dr. Stephenson lives with two Savannah cats on a pond in Auburn Hills, Michigan. Starting a “new” career at the age of 80, Doc reckons that he has only about the next 20 years to finish the series and retire – again – perhaps this time to Oxford.

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