I'm a creature of habit. I have breakfast at the same time every day, follow my writing schedule religiously, and go to bed before ten on weekdays. Wild adventures are for my heroines, not me. Nothing is allowed to mess with my schedule, even when I move halfway around the world, to Greece, and buy a mountain guesthouse.

Except the caretaker that comes with said guesthouse makes some valiant efforts. He and his friend—ex?—give me a story crazy enough to be in my next book. Hell, parts of it were in my last book. How's this possible?

Hold on. They're talking berserkers and Odin and... Valkyries?

Okay, being a Valkyrie could possibly mess with my schedule. And so could falling in love with two immortals.