Greek, Roman and Norse gods and goddesses make an appearance in this anthology edited by Selena Kitt. Kitt, JM Snyder, JE Taylor, Dakota Trace, Ava Jones, Cherry Lee and others contribute to this e-book; a print version is coming soon, and will be available on Amazon.
Official book blurb: "From Greek to Roman to Norse and everything in between, you will be transported to faraway lands and immersed in the stories of mythical beings and sexy gods and goddesses in this fourteen story eXcessica anthology."
My contribution is "Black Bear Skin." An excerpt:
The last thing he remembered was the sweet hospitality of the woman on the little evergreen island. The way she bathed him. Her touch. Her kiss. The dewy, perfumed smell of her skin. Her final, loving gesture, draping the warm bear skin over his shoulders.
He awoke to something more wonderful than he’d ever prayed for. He lay across a warm bed. The mattress was stuffed with sweet-smelling fresh straw. His injured hand lay under his head. When Bergren pulled it out, he looked at the hand. He smiled, amazed to see that the hand was restored. He wiggled his five fingers.
This must be a dream, Bergren thought. I am dreaming of being in the woman’s cabin, as I lie in the snow.
As if in answer, a female voice giggled. No, it was a chorus of female voices, as pleasant as music. Bergren sat up.
He saw them now. They were tall, taller than men. Their chalk-white skin was flawless. Their golden hair fell down their backs in meticulous braids, not a hair out of its place. Their eyes were blue as jewels. The three women, who must surely have been sisters, were beautiful beyond words.
He saw that one of them carried a sword. Another held a bridle in her hand. At the other end of it stood a horse, larger than any horse Bergren had ever seen. A horse with shining wings of white and silver feathers.
Ah, so this was a dream. He lay in the snow dreaming of the Valkyries, the maidens who carry the souls of dead warriors from the battlefield.
Unless, Bergren thought, the evergreen island was all a dream. Perhaps I lost more than my fingers on the battlefield. Perhaps I am dead after all.
If this was death, he didn’t mind it at all. He was whole and warm, and the warrior-maidens were so lovely.