This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Thor’s Hammer © 2006 by Missy Lyons
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Thor’s Hammer
By Missy Lyons
Dedications:
This
story is dedicated to all those people who have been so supportive in
my
early career. My friends, my family, and my fans.
My husband and my daughter both deserve thanks. If they were not understanding, I would never have had the opportunity and they did sacrifice time with me so that I could spend many hours writing. The writers I have met through Romance Divas and RWA and the tremendous amount of knowledge they shared with me and the guidance they provided. Also to my critique partners, Lianne, Kelly, Rachel, and the newest addition Chris, who all gave me personalized attention and helped when things got the roughest. Through the writer’s roadblocks and the hard times when the words did not flow or when life just got in the way.
Thor’s Hammer
Chapter One
Men
and Gods alike had grown lax with the passage of time. Centuries had
passed and in the age of modern man, people paid more attention to
their computers and their cell phones than the fairy tales they were
told as children. Or at least men thought they were only fairy tales.
The
sad fact was the stories were all true. The Gods had not died, just
because people stopped believing. The power of Gods was still envied
by a few but no longer worshipped by the masses. Even the few that
still believed, no longer lived in fear of the Gods.
Thor
was arrogant and cocky enough to ignore that nights warning, a
crimson moon. Thor was up to his usual tricks, and carried on as he
would normally. The God spent his life living up to his reputation as
the playboy of the Viking Gods. Time had not changed his lusty bad
boy behavior. Who was he to turn down pleasures of the flesh?
Especially when women threw themselves at him. What woman wouldn’t
throw themselves at the red-haired giant? Too powerful to be mistaken
as a man, he was a giant among men towering over them, thick and
powerful muscles contoured his lean hard body. His mere presence was
formidable, intimidating most men, and melting most women at the
knees. Thor had an air about him that was commanding. Men listened
when he spoke and women flocked to his irresistible charm.
Tonight
he had his lover wrapped in his arms, an arm thrown possessively over
her breast and her blonde hair tickling his chest. Normally he had
several lovers but tonight he had chosen to take only one. Thor first
saw her speaking to Loki, but the moment he saw her, she approached
him. She begged him so sweetly at the feast earlier that night that
he could not resist her soft curves or her mouth that dripped kisses
and licked and sucked every part of him. The wench was insatiable for
a mortal and the delicate woman had not disappointed him. As he
mistakenly thought she slept soundly, he slipped into a deep slumber
that left him undisturbed as his new lover crept away in the night.
He
awoke to a cold bed and very disappointed to find that she had
already left. The memories of last night had left him in a very
aroused and painful state. He was ready for more and the wench was
nowhere to be found.
“What
in Valhalla?” He looked over to his nightstand to find his golden
hammer missing, and a thunderous rage filled his body, clouding his
senses. Such raw power in the wrong hands could ruin the world as we
knew it. He smashed his fist into the wall, stone crumbled under his
knuckles, leaving a dusty residue on the floor. His voice thundered
out, shaking the walls to their very foundations. “That bitch! She
stole my hammer!”
There
was no getting out of it. Thor didn’t even know who she was, but
there was a chance that Loki may know. He had spoken to her that
night. Loki the God of Mischief, Thor should have expected the girl
was up to no good from the first. What else would she be doing in his
company? He would have to ask his friend Loki if he knew who she was,
because he sure as hell didn’t know.
It’s not like he spent the night talking with the wench.
He spent the night fucking her and that had not required much talking.
***