Chapter 3: When Mary met Viking Warlord John Hartley, a Serialised Tennis Novel
John Hartley, a member of the Yorkist White Rose glass-making militia of the Viking county of Yorkshire, stepped onto the Wimbledon tennis court, to face opponent, V. S. Leger Goold, a typical Romeo & Juliet Irish stereotype, destined to fulfil the prophecy of a tragic Shakespeare Monte Carlo life script.
I took one look at Hartley, and a Scandinavian clergyman rush of Church of England Temple at Uppsala, took over all my senses and I immediately knew that he was the reincarnation of Thor, the muscular thunderous Berserker of my Viking-Casanova hybrid fantasy. I had always wanted a man to dominate me, and my fellow Wimbledon villagers, just weren’t up to the job.
My Viking Mesoamerican Mayan Heart Man, Sir John Hartley, was in my line of sight. The 1,100 spectators made me well aware that other women might want him for themselves, so I made certain he’d be mine as soon as he left the court. I seduced him with my look of love and blood red lips. He responded by holding my gaze. I approached the head of the Scandinavian priesthood, and told him to impress me with the longship, he had anchored in Chelsea Basin (harbour in London). He was up to the challenge. He didn’t disappoint.
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