Page 30 of The Very Virile Viking

"Can I bring some guests with me?"

"Of course. How many, dear?"

"Ten."

There was a telling silence. Then Angela heard the strike of a lighter and the deep inhale of her grandmother's breath before she continued: "How many men? Women? Couples? I'll need to know so I can make sleeping arrangements."

"One man. Nine children."

Grandma started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"You. I'm trying to picture you with all those children. Where are they now?"

What would you say if I told you there was a six-foot-five-inch hunk in my bed this very moment… actually, two hunks? Angela really, really hated to admit the predicament she was in. With a groan, she confessed: "Here. In my condo."

"Angela! You truly amaze me. How long have they been there?"

"One day." So far .

"Amazing," her grandmother murmured. "What are the ages of the children?"

"The six boys are three to sixteen. And the three girls are fourteen months to fourteen years."

"A baby! Fourteen months is practically a baby. My goodness, dear, you have a baby with you? Oh, this is going to be such fun!"

Yeah, great fun!

"How long do you think they'll stay?"

"I was hoping for a day or two, but the way things have been going, I suspect it will be till next week, when the film crew arrives for the property inspection."

"And the man, Angela… what about him?"

Angela's grandmother was too perceptive, by far—even over the telephone. "His name is Magnus…

Magnus Ericsson. Darrell wants to put him in one of his movies, but he has to keep him under wraps for a bit. He doesn't want the press to get a whiff of him yet. Does that name ring a bell? Magnus Ericsson?"

"For heaven's sake, no. Should it?"

Whew! "Well, he claims you are the reason he is here. He says he saw you in a dream or a fog or some such thing, and you were conjuring him here with some prayer beads."

"Conjuring? Now, that's a strange way of saying it."

"Saying what? Do you have an explanation for this?"

"I do, Angela. At least, I think I do."

"Come on, Grandma. No secrets here. I can hear the self-satisfaction in your voice. What's your explanation?"

"God works in mysterious ways."

Three days in the New World, and almost barmy…

"I think I am in love," Torolf said with a long sigh.

"Now where would you have had the opportunity to meet a wench—uh, lady—in this new world, confined in this prison con-dough as we all are?" Magnus was just entering the den, where he banged his head for about the hundredth time on the low archway. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, followed by a crude expletive.