Postcards from Asgard — Amalia Dillin

Ordinarily, Gwen likes goats, even makes her living by milking them, but these two are some kind of devil-spawn, and one of them is pawing the ground, horns aimed at her guts. The fact that they were followed by a blonde farmhand with a much too charming smile isn't all that much of an improvement, either. But Thjalfi makes himself useful. He's lean and smart, with a warmth in his pale blue eyes that makes her shiver, and she can't deny that he has a way with her horses. He seems to have a way with her, too. There's just one problem: Thjalfi's a slave, a bondservant to the god of thunder, Thor, and no matter how far they fall in love, he can't stay. But this so-called god who owns him? He's about to learn just how far a Midwestern girl will go to free the boy she loves.