Wet and Wildby Sandra Hill
“Sandra Hill writes stories that tickle the funnybone and touch the heart. Her books are always fresh, romantic, inventive, and hilarious.”
No one does love quite like USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Sandra Hill, the number one name in Viking romance. Wet & Wild is yet another sexy, sultry/b>/b>/b>
“Sandra Hill writes stories that tickle the funnybone and touch the heart. Her books are always fresh, romantic, inventive, and hilarious.”
No one does love quite like USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Sandra Hill, the number one name in Viking romance. Wet & Wild is yet another sexy, sultry, ingeniously conceived, and exceedingly funny love story that asks the question: What do you get when you cross a Viking with a Navy SEAL? The answer is outrageous, hilarious, sizzling hot, and uniquely, delightfully Hill, as she offers humor, passion, time travel romance…and, of course, a handsome, brave, and sexy Norseman warrior-turned-Navy SEAL who’s the answer to every woman’s dreams. Bestselling author Christine Feehan hits the nail squarely on its head when she says, “Sandra Hill always delivers smart, sexy, laugh-out-loud action.”
- HarperCollins Publishers
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- Product dimensions:
- 4.24(w) x 6.78(h) x 1.06(d)
Read an Excerpt
Wet & Wild
By Sandra Hill
Copyright © 2004
All right reserved.
Ragnor Magnusson was in the midst of swiving the most
beautiful woman in all the Norselands, and he was bored.
In, out, in, out, in, out, ho, hum. He barely stifled a yawn.
On the other hand, Inga Sigundottir, young widow of a Norman
jarl and daughter of the Danish King Svein Forkbeard, said,
"Oooh, Oooh! You are soooo good, Ragnor, but must you go so
fast? I want this to last forever."
Of course I am good. But fast, you greedy wench? Forever?
Hah! I have been plowing the field betwixt your thighs for an
hour at least. Bloody well reach your peak already, m'lady.
That is what he thought, but what he did was slow his strokes
to a snail's pace.
Inga's eyes rolled back in her head.
No surprise to Ragnor. He was an expert at the bedsport when
he chose to be. After all, he was a Viking.
Then, whilst Inga moaned and writhed beneath him, even as he
did his in-and-out exercise, he scratched his buttock,
wondering idly if there were fleas in the royal linens. Then
he squeezed one of her nipples, knowing it was expected of
him, thus producing more moans and writhing. Then he pondered
whether there might be any roast boar left from the evening
meal down in the castle kitchen. Yea, a slice of boar on a
piece of manchet bread, washed down with a horn of ale, would
go over nicelyabout now, even though it was well past
midnight. But, alas and alak, he had work yet to
complete ... bed work.
For a brief moment, Ragnor entertained the notion that he
might be getting old. He was only seven and twenty. That was
too young to lose the enthusiasm for coupling? Wasn't it?
But then, he'd lost enthusiasm for just about everything these
days ... a-Viking, trading, running the royal estates at
Norstead, even fighting. That last was particularly alarming.
He was born and raised to be a warrior. If not soldiering,
It had all started when his comrade in arms, Skorri Leifsson,
died last year in battle. Ragnor had held his best friend in
his arms while sword dew flowed steadily from the neck wound
delivered by a Saxon blade. Nay, truth be told, Ragnor's low
spirits had begun long before Skorri's death. There had been
a hole in his heart and in his life since the death of his
father Magnus Ericsson and nine siblings in a ship wreck more
than ten years past. Before that, he'd lost his beloved
uncles Geirolf and Jorund Ericsson, Geirolf's wife and twin
daughters, and his grandparents Lord Eric Trygvasson and Lady
Asgar. So many deaths!
"Why did you stop?" Inga asked peevishly.
With a jolt, Ragnor pulled himself back to the present. He
smiled down at Inga, her blonde hair spread prettily about the
pillow, her blue eyes staring up at him with a mixture of
concern and arousal and impatience. She wrapped her long legs
about his hips, not about to let him escape. Her lips were
red and swollen from his earlier kisses.
His manpart was buried in her sheath. He may have lost the
"enthusiasm," but his cock had not. In fact, it twitched.
She smiled up at him, as if he'd just paid her a compliment.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. It was not her fault he'd
lost the "enthusiasm." She deserved better.
Lifting her legs over his shoulders, he began to pound at her
then. Short, hammering strokes that brought her to her peak,
and then beyond.
Inga nigh screamed with pleasure.
Seconds before he reached his own peak, he withdrew and
spilled his seed upon her stomach with a long sigh of
"Noooooo!" Inga shrieked and grabbed his wilting staff in both
hands, trying to jam him back into her body.
"Huh?" His eyes bulged at the agony as she squeezed him hard
and pulled. Every man knew ... and every woman of experience
should know ... that a sensitive organ, such as a cock, deserved
better treatment after being the instrument of milady's
pleasure. Quickly, he pried himself out of her vice grip. If
he hadn't been wilting afore, he would be now. The pain was
On her knees, she now whacked him about the head with her
pillow. "By your leave, milady, have you gone demented?" he
asked in between whacks. Sex affected people in odd ways
betimes-once Ubbi the Ugly claimed he broke out in boils
afterward, but perchance that stemmed from another cause.
Ragnor had ne'er heard of it turning a woman demented, though.
Some men, yea, but that was usually from lack thereof.
She still reached for him, trying to pull him back inside of
her ... which was ridiculous, really. Trying to put a wilted
lily back in a slick pod was like ... well, putting an egg back
in the chicken. Impossible.
He laughed, which made her even more angry. Baring her
perfectly white teeth at him, she snarled, "You bastard! You
cur! You lying, cod-sucking, too-charming son of a whore!"
Have a caution, Inga. Your true character is showing. "I
never lied to you," he proclaimed indignantly as he grabbed
her in his arms and lifted her, feet dangling off the rush
floor. "Stop squirming, Inga, and tell me what this is all
Tears welled in her eyes. "Why? Why would you not give me
your seed? Am I not beautiful enough? Was I not pleasing in
the bed furs? By the gods, my father will thrash me for
failing. And he will thrash you, too, for compromising me."
"I don't think so." Ragnor was referring to the thrashing, as
well as the compromising. But then he went stiff with
alertness. Setting Inga down, he backed up a bit. "Your
father ... he sent you to my bed furs?"
"Of course," she wailed, swiping at the tears which now
overflowed and ran in rivulets down her cheeks. "Dost think I
would dare such scandalous behavior without his blessing?"
Hah! 'Twas not me who made your virtue forfeit. Ragnor had
heard of her "scandalous behavior" with several other men; she
was no untried virgin. Understanding dawned slowly. It had
been a trap, set by the wily Danish king, ruler of all
Jutland. Ragnor was not a king in his own land, but he was of
noble birth ... a chieftain of wealthy estates left by his
grandsire in Vestfold, the rich southern region of Hordaland.
Forkbeard schemed to join their families in wedlock ... lock
being the key word. He wanted to ensnare yet another Norse
family into his spider web of intrigues.
But Ragnor was no fool. Ever since he lay with his first maid
at age thirteen, he had tried to be careful not to breed babes
hither and yon, and as far as he knew, he'd been successful.
He had been taught a harsh lesson about the perils of virility
by his father who beg at thirteen children. Children who gave
him no end of trouble, himself included.
Ragnor grinned and gave himself an inward pat on the back for
his near escape.
"You dare to find mirth in me?" Inga narrowed her eyes at him
and looked as if she might punch him in his mirthsome mouth.
"Not in you, sweetling. Do not take it personal."
"And why not? Would it be such a horrendous thing if your
seed took root in my womb?"
Yea, it would. "I do not wish to wed ... yet."
Not ever. "For years and years."
"If your father were here, he would force you to marry ... to
carry on his line."
If my father were here, he would not need me to carry on his
line. He would have any one of my six half-brothers to do the
deed. "My father would understand my reluctance," he
But would he? Ragnor mused. Or would he tell me that family
is everything, and it is time for me to start my own?
"Well, if you will not wed with me, you had best do me a
favor," Inga declared. "You owe me that at least."
Ragnor had to laugh at her turnabout. They were both standing
there, stark naked. She no doubt wanted to couple with him
Torolf, where are you when I need you? Where that thought
came from, Ragnor did not know. His brother had been dead
these many years ... the last time he'd seen him, they'd both
been rogues to the bone and both sixteen years old-born a
mere sennight apart to the same father but different mothers
in different locales. Often folks mistook them for twins so
identical was them appearance, except his hair was black and
eyes blue, while Torolf's was blonde and his eyes brown.
Their mischievous personalities had been the same, too. He
recalled more than one occasion when the two of them had taken
one lusty lass into the bed furs betwixt them. That's what
Inga needed now. Two men to satisfy her needs. Torolf would
be "up" for the game ... he just knew he would, his brother's
preference oft times being for blonde-haired women, while he
preferred the rarer red. He liked his women to have a brain,
as well, whilst Torolf had claimed it took no brain to spread
one's thighs. By the gods, you can make me smile, Torolf,
even when you are in far-off Valhalla.
He glanced at Inga, standing afore him in all her blonde,
naked glory, a pensive expression on her face. Nay, his
brother would not have said her "Nay." Nor would he.
Inga stamped her small foot in the rushes to mark her
For the love of Frey! She does want me to swive her again.
Can I? He glanced down betwixt his legs. Turned out the lily
was not dead after all. Turned out he did not need his
brother after all.
Still, he thought, I miss you, Torolf. Even after all these
"About that favor, Ragnor," she said sweetly.
Yea, she wants me again. Oh, well! A Viking's work is never
But then, Inga surprised the spit out of him.
"Dost think there is any leftover boar down in the kitchen?
Could you bring a little late night repast for me to sup on?"
He laughed. What else could he do when his lady friend was
more interested in meat than ... well, meat?
Excerpted from Wet & Wild
by Sandra Hill
Copyright © 2004 by Sandra Hill .
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than ten years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Okay, I admit, this book had me laughing so hard that I had tears running down my cheeks. That said, it was not a well written or interesting story. Nor, were the characters very likable. I'm glad I checked this book out at the library instead of paying for it. Would've been a waste of money.
How what. Imposter u locked me out. Stoppit
I really wasn¿t expecting much from this read, but if you give it a chance, it¿s a really good read!
When I pick up one of Sandra Hill's books, I know without a doubt that I will be entertained. Alison is a strong female lead that has a likeable personality. She has been through alot, but still moves forward(cautiously). Ragnor is strong, passionate, intelligent, as so, so funny. I loved the romance and humor that went hand in hand through the whole story. I have enjoyed the whole viking series. When these strong guys love, they really love. Hot, hot, hot.
In the latest installment of her Viking II Series, best selling author Sandra Hill may have given us her best rip-roaring, knee-slapping, tears-streaking-down-the-face belly laughter yet. Ragnor Magnusson, the ultimate alpha male hero of Wet & Wild, is bothered, bedeviled, and bewildered when he finds himself swept a thousand years into the future in a 21st century America in the middle of a Navy Seals Training exercise. Well, what can a Viking do but do his best to stay alive and survive near drownings, losing all his hair, wearing small clothes, all that running punishment, and sand in every orifice. But when this hero comes face to face with his destiny, Alison ¿GI Jane¿ MacLean, sister to the ¿enemy¿ Master Chief, a Navy ¿dock-whore,¿ and his superior officer, he¿s too ecstatic to have regained his enthusiasm for the ¿bedsport¿ to care about all that torture. ........... The attraction between Alison and Ragnor is hot and heavy. Their ¿bedsport¿ will steam up the pages and your glasses if you wear them. The supporting characters and their interactions make this story a delight to read over and over again. Ragnors' fellow Navy Seal trainees are supportive, incorrigible and hot, hot, hot, just makes a girl in a t-shirt want to douse herself under a spray of cold water. The byplay between Ian, the ¿enemy¿ Master Chief, and Ragnor will have you laughing out loud and rolling on the floor. I think Ragnor has found the perfect strategy to defeat the enemy, he¿ll just talk them to death, or maybe just into an asylum. ........... With a delightful story, memorable and engaging characters, snappy dialogue, and laugh out loud humor, Wet & Wild should come with a warning: ¿Read in public at your own risk because some people may just think you¿ve escaped the asylum when you hit the floor laughing.¿ If you enjoy Ms. Hill¿s brand of humor, or just delight in the renewing gift of laughter, Wet & Wild is a must read.
Ragnor¿ a wickedly delicious source of addiction, comes with its own recipe: 1 part Viking warrior, 1 part U.S. Navy SEAL, 1 part Greek God (well, in appearance anyway); add some wise-guyness, wicked sense of humor, total disregard for rules and regulations, natural inclination to always stir things up (be it tempers, hearts or senses), and top it all off with a certain ¿ enthusiasm, that¿s back with a vengeance. Ten long and devastating years after loosing almost his entire family, Ragnor, a born and raised Viking warrior, finds himself in the middle of unfamiliar war games, in a strange land, surrounded by enemies unlike any he¿s ever known before. Following his instinct of survival he plays along, searching for explanations for the baffling situation he¿s in. Somehow he also believes that he has found his Destiny. Unfortunately, his Destiny outranks him, is completely forbidden to him and thinks he needs to see a shrink. Ragnor might be alone (or is he?) and confused in this new world, but he¿s certain that he will have what is his. What a treat it is to read a book you can¿t put down until you¿ve read it cover-to-cover, and laughed out loud most of the time (earning constant stares from everyone in your home). I think that¿s a Sandra Hill trademark, but ¿Wet & Wild¿ in particular, exceeded even those expectations. The book is hilarious, incredibly steamy and wonderfully written (I just couldn¿t put it down). I even loved the secondary characters, and wouldn¿t mind reading a few of their stories. Long live the Ericssons and the talent of Ms. Hill!
A thousand years ago, Ragnor's family except for himself and his sister, set out on a voyage, and never came back. Believing them dead, he went on with his life, but with only a partial heart. However, they were not killed, but sent forward to the present. When his 'twin' brother is struck in the head, something happens, sending Torolf Awol with amnesia, but no one realizes Torolf, or Max is not there, since his brother is there now, living his life, and totally confused. He does not understand why anyone would want to train to be made into a SEAL, or much of anything else. One thing he is clear on is that the 'chieftain's' sister is hot, and he wants her, whether he's consorting with superior officers or not. ........................ **** Loyal fans of Sandra Hill's time travel books and Viking sagas will undoubtedly be pleased to get both in one shot. The SEALs demonstrate an adeptness for poetic jordie calls that will keep you laughing or blushing one, as will the rest of the book. ****
Yea some one said that
She laughs then leans down to kiss him. "You know youre a really good kisser."
He raised an eyebrow. "Not anymore."
Ur bio here. I'll write mind soon
IT was ok. I read her other books first. I couldn't finish this book. I just read like part of it. Kind of got boring.
In San Diego SEAL Ensign Torolf Magnussen is injured saving his mates from what could have been a deadly incident. Physician Lieutenant Alison MacLean treats Torlf, who is given a month off to heal from his injuries............................. Meanwhile back in 1010 Jutland, Torolf¿s bored brother Ragnor drowns during a raid. However instead of dying, he arrives in the middle of a watery training exercise that his sibling was forced to skip due to the injuries........................... Everyone assumes that Ragnor is Torolf although no one can figure out how he healed so fast. However, when Ragnor sees Alison for the first time, he knows she is perfect for him although her brother Ian is the pain in charge of his training. Alison cannot believe that this SEAL desires her and is willing to take the wrath of her protective older brother to make her his mate.............................. Sandra Hill¿s time travel Viking tales are some of the weirdest wackiest novels on the market that are always entertaining fun to read. WET AND WILD is a terrific story that the audience will enjoy as Ragnor breaks all the modern day rules to persue what he believes is rightfully his. The support cast provides the leagues of depth to a wonderful modern day Viking naval romance that also implies another Viking transplant, hopefully sister Madrene driving Ian nuts........................ Harriet Klausner
Sucks on it and uses her toungue to tmake it better than usually.