Bits 'n Bobs Author Blog
11/13/2014 0 Comments Thursday's Threads with Meggan ConnorToday's spotlight is on Meggan Connors and her Highland romance, Highland Deception. Heat Rating: Sensual Genre: Historical Romance Buy Links:http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J3D2JS6/ Blurb: When Kenneth Mackay, long-banished rogue and thief, returns to the Mackay holding at the request of his brother, he has no idea what he might find. He certainly doesn’t expect to be confronted with his twin’s imminent death, or with the plan his brother has concocted. Ten years before, Malcolm made a tragic mistake, and, to preserve the family name—and his own skin—he allowed Kenneth to take the fall. Now that he is dying without an heir, Malcolm plans to atone for his mistake: by giving Kenneth his life back. All Kenneth has to do is assume his brother’s identity. But complicating matters is the unexpected return of Lady Isobel Mackay, the daughter of an English marquess and the wife Malcolm didn’t want. Isobel barely knows the husband who abandoned her even before their marriage, and she’d long since given up hope on having a real marriage with him. Yet when she returns to the Mackay holding far earlier than expected, she finds her husband a changed man. Despite the hurt between them, Isobel’s heart responds to this man who cares for his entire clan as if there were family. Who, for the first time, cares about her as if she is, too. Falling in love with her husband had never been part of Isobel’s plan. But when their future is suddenly in peril, Isobel must find a way to save him—from himself and from the deception threatening to tear them apart. Excerpt She ignored Grant’s angry protests behind her and ran for her husband’s bedchamber. Slamming open the door, she stumbled inside. Malcolm lay in the great bed. Alone. Alone. She tried not to speculate about what meant. His breathing was shallow, as if he’d been running. As the door bounced back and closed, his sky-bright eyes shot up and met hers. No, not sky-bright. Darker, the color of the forget-me-nots that bloomed in the gardens in spring. The color of the night sky as it lightened with the first rays of dawn. “Milord.” She gasped for breath. Malcolm had never looked at her like he did now. This time, when he studied her, it was as if he didn’t dislike what he saw. Being honest with herself, Malcolm had never disliked her. After all, the term dislike implied a depth of feeling he almost certainly lacked. “Wife.” Isobel flinched. Grant was suddenly at her back. “Sir, I apologize. She’s faster than you’d think.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, as if to steer her from the room. She shook him off. “Indeed.” Malcolm smiled, and a charming dent in his cheek appeared. How had she not noticed that before? “We will leave at once.” Grant took her by the arm. She wrenched out of his grasp. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I have my audience.” She glanced around the room and saw no sign of Malcolm’s mistress. “Lady Mackay,” Grant began. Malcolm held up his hand. “‘Tis fine, Grant. I can always make time for my lady wife.” Isobel barked a hollow laugh, alleviating the ache, just a little. “Are you certain?” Grant’s eyes shifted from Isobel to Malcolm and back again. A wrinkle formed between his brows, and the muscle in his cheek worked as he ground his teeth together. He’d only ever done that when he was agitated or anxious. But there was no reason for that, as Malcolm had never truly cared enough to keep secrets from her in an attempt to spare her feelings. Nor had he ever forced others to do the same. Malcolm’s eyes met Grant’s, and something passed between the two men. Her husband gave Grant a clipped nod. “If you’ll excuse us, Grant.” Grant released his breath slowly. His eyes narrowed first at Malcolm, then at Isobel. Scowling, he bowed his head. “Mackay,” he said stiffly. He turned to Isobel. “Lady Mackay.” Isobel watched him go then waited until the door had closed behind him. “So, where is she?” Malcolm arched a dark brow. “Where is who?” “You know. Her.” He lifted a single shoulder, as if she didn’t have a right to know. “I doona ken.” The silence that fell between them was deafening, damning. Finally he said, “Your arrival was unexpected.” She breathed a mirthless laugh. “I have no doubt.” She expected him to look ashamed, but his expression didn’t hold even the slightest hint of remorse. She swallowed against the betrayal rising in the back of her throat and tried again. “Why are you abed?” “I’ve been ailing. Naught to fash yourself over.” She approached his great bed tentatively. “Ailing how? Has your cough worsened?” He glanced down at his coverlet and then brought his gaze back to her face. “For a time, aye. I believe I’m on the mend now.” Isobel pressed her hand to his forehead, then his cheek. His skin felt cool beneath her palm, if a little damp. His breath hitched, then he cleared his throat. “Satisfied? As you can see, I am on the mend.” “Perhaps,” she whispered. She ran her hand around to the back of his neck, then descended to his back. He wore a thin linen shirt, unsuitable for the cool nights of the Highlands in late fall. She placed her hands between his shoulder blades. He was thinner than she remembered, but there was no mistaking Malcolm’s unique strength. “Breathe,” she said, and then reminded herself to do the same.Malcolm. “I hardly think—” “If you want me to leave you be, you will appease my curiosity. Breathe.” Malcolm tilted his head up and studied her. She fought the desire to look at him for as long as she could before meeting his gaze. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Curiosity. “Breathe, milord.” Heat spread up her neck to her face, and, to keep her free hand from shaking, she clenched a fist. The warmth of his body seeped through his nightshirt, scalding her hand not with fever but with something else. The corners of his lips tilted upward before he smoothed his features. He paused for a moment too long, then held her gaze as he took an extended, deliberate breath. She shoved the raging emotions aside and forced herself to view him as a person who needed her help. She felt no hint of the cough that had been nagging him before she’d left. Swallowing hard, she slid her hand between the linen and his skin, against his chest. His heart rate kicked up. “Breathe.” She struggled to force the word out. I feel nothing. Nothing. He needs my help. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her hands, the steady beating of his heart. His skin scorched hers. Her mouth dried, her tongue thick and heavy. She removed her hand. “You seem to have mended nicely.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strangled. His gaze searched her face. “Aye.” Isobel cradled her hand against her chest and stepped back from the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet. “I will leave you now, sir.” Malcolm gave her a clipped nod. “Very well, my lady wife.” “I—I will be in my chambers should you require me.” He didn’t laugh, as he normally would have. “Then I shall find you there if I do. Or I will send for you.” She backed up a few paces, bumped into a trunk, and immediately turned her attention to her skirt, trying to smooth wrinkles undoubtedly permanent from long days of travel. It was better than looking at Malcolm. “By your leave.” Her eyes locked on the floor as she dipped into a hasty curtsy and fled. The moment the door closed behind her, she put her back against the cold, stone wall, cradling the hand that had touched him as if she had injured it. She’d touched his skin, felt the heat of his body, and the responding heat of hers. He hadn’t forced her hands away. He hadn’t mocked her. Instead, for the first time since their marriage, he’d called her wife. * * *
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Today’s treat is an interview with Gilda Macrory, the heroine in The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride. I caught her out picking berries, but she has agreed to chat for a bit. CMR: Thank you for letting me interrupt your berry-picking, Gilda! What a lovely name! Gilda: (smiles) I thank ye. It means ‘gift of God’. CMR: Oh, that is very nice. Can you tell me a bit about your life at Scaurness Castle? Gilda: (shrugs) Och, `tis not so much unlike another lass anywhere else. I have chores and two younger brothers to look after, though they plague me sore. And sometimes I care for my wee baby sister. CMR: But a castle is scarcely a crofter’s hut, right? Gilda: I see yer point, though there are many more people who work and live in a castle. It can be difficult to have a bit of privacy, even in such a large place. CMR: I suppose you need privacy from your brothers? Gilda: (fists a hand on one hip) Aye! They are a pair of wee louns! Always pulling pranks on me since our brother Niall left to foster. I am too old for such nonsense. Punishment doesnae work with them for long. CMR: What happens when they get caught? Gilda: They must first apologize, then they usually must clean my horse’s stall for a fortnight. At least it works off a wee bit of their energy for a few days. CMR: Let’s talk about you as a young child. What do you remember about your da, the laird, when he first came to Scaurness? Gilda: He isnae my true da, though he adopted me when he wed my ma. I was four summers at the time. The first time we met, I had disobeyed my Auntie Tavia and waded into the water at the beach looking for sea shells. The tide was coming in and I found myself stranded on a rock, the waves crashing about me. CMR: Oh, my! What happened? Gilda: Like a braw hero, he strode through the water to me and picked me up. I had also lost my shoes, and he tweaked my toes and called me a mermaid. CMR: Thank goodness he saw you. Were you friends after that? Gilda: I was four. He was kind and dinnae scold me. I think I loved him more than ma did at that point. CMR: Why is that? Gilda: Och, she had been told by the king to marry Ranald, but she had known him as a lad and dinnae like him then. But Auntie Tavia says they soon fell in love. They always act as though they like each other. CMR: Do you think you will marry for love? Gilda: (bites her lip) As the laird’s daughter, I shall marry to benefit the clan. I dinnae believe my da would ask me to marry a man I couldnae respect. Love him? I am not entirely certain what that means. CMR: Is there a lad at the castle you like? Or a laird’s son you have an eye for? Gilda: Nae, the lads at the castle are all boys playing at being men. However . . . (she stares off into the distance) CMR: However? Gilda: Och, I am sure it is nothing. Just a lad I met when picking berries yesterday. But, he flustered me. CMR: How? Gilda: He was afeared for me because he saw me cut a wolf loose from a trap and spoke a bit sharpish. Then he was kind when a storm blew up—I have been afeard of storms since I was a bairn. But he vexes me. CMR: (hides a smile) I am sure you will work it out. Do you know who he is? Gilda: Nae, though I was trespassing on Macraig land, so I suppose he is a Macraig. (Frowns) CMR: Oh, is that a problem? Gilda: Aye. The Macraigs and the Macrorys havenae been allied in many years. Though I dinnae know exactly the why of it. CMR: It is getting late. I will let you get back to your chores. Thank you for taking a moment to talk with me. I hope you are able to follow your heart. Gilda: I thank ye. I am duty-bound, but wish with all my heart to fall in love with the man I marry. (waves as she picks up her basket of berries) * * * CMR: To discover who Gilda marries and if she falls in love, pick up your copy of The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride! Available for pre-order now at Amazon for the introductory price of $2.99 http://www.amzn.com/B00P89UHME Release date: 11/11/14 Leave a comment for a chance to win one of three ebooks (kindle) of The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride. Winners announced here 11/12/14. If you read The Highlander's Reluctant Bride, you have already met Riona and Ranald. You will have met Gilda, also, but as Riona's 4 year old daughter. Ranald was sent to Scaurness Castle by the king as the old laird lay dying, his mission to protect it from marauding pirates and squabbling neighboring lairds. Along the way, he marries the old laird's daughter and adopts her child as his own. In The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride, the little mermaid he met 12 years earlier, has grown into a lovely young woman. It is now his duty to find a husband for her. As her da, he is not ready for this. Lady Caitriona, known as Riona, is Gilda's mother. As her daughter approaches marriageable age, she is caught between the memory of the child who defined her own life as a mother nearly 17 years ago, and the love for the young woman Gilda is becoming. She wants the best for her daughter and sympathizes with her romantic heart. But when secrets from Riona's past threaten Gilda's future, she must help forge the bond that will forgive past injustices. Ranald and Riona's story carries over into The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride in the form of a feud between the Macrory and Macraig clans. Though this book is a stand alone story, it does very well paired with The Highlander's Reluctant Bride, giving a bit more insight into Gilda's character and the fear Riona has of losing her child- again. With the release of The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride only weeks away, today is as good a time as any to introduce you to the characters who have been in the most recent Tuesday Teaser blogs. Gilda Macrory: At sixteen and the laird's daughter, she is aware she will marry soon to benefit her clan. But she is caught unawares by a young man who steals her heart. Though she knows he must belong to the neighboring Macraig clan who has been at odds with her clan for over fifteen years, she hopes to meet him again on the beach along the firth. Ryan Macraig: Just returned home after a 10 year absence, he wants only to rejoin his family and learn the ways of his clan, ready to someday step into the laird's shoes. Matrimony is not on his mind. Until he meets Gilda. He sees her leaving a tiny cottage on the beach, and though he knows she is a Macrory, he believes her to be the healer's granddaughter, not the daughter of the laird. Even so, he dares defy his father and the clan feud to see her again. 10/9/2014 0 Comments Thursday's Threads - with ME! :-) And many thanks to the Soul Mate Publishing authors in this group who post for the members every week. THE HIGHLANDER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE by Cathy MacRae Genre: Scottish historical romance Heat level: Sensual Book cover blurb: Determined to keep the Macrory clan’s holdings out of the clutches of marauding pirates, King Robert II sends his man, Lord Ranald Scott, to hold Scaurness Castle. There, Laird Macrory lays dying, awaiting word from his son who is missing on the battlefields of France. If the son is not found before the old laird dies, Ranald will take over as laird—and marry Laird Macrory’s headstrong daughter. Lady Caitriona sees no reason she cannot rule the clan in her brother’s stead, and is bitterly disappointed with the king’s decision to send a man to oversee the castle and people. Not only is Ranald Scott only distantly related to the Macrory clan, but he was her childhood nemesis. She has little trust or like for him. Her disappointment turns to panic when the king’s plan is completely revealed and she realizes she must wed Ranald. Pirates, treachery, and a 4-year-old girl stand between her and Ranald’s chance at happiness. What will it take for them to learn to trust each other and find the love they both deserve? * * * Excerpt: So, the king forced Eaden to wed,” she murmured. Her gaze caught Ranald’s. “What will he do to me?” Ranald noted Riona’s sudden pallor, her gray eyes widening until they were naught but huge silver orbs glowing against her skin. Now was as good a time as any to tell her what King Robert intended for her, but he could not force the words. “Ye are a laird’s daughter,” he reminded her. “And an heiress. Yer mother’s dower lands north of here are of great value to the king.” “And I am of little worth, aye?” Riona flared. “Nae. Ye are of great worth.” “But a pawn to the king.” Ranald sighed. This was not going as he planned. “We are all pawns in one way or another, Ree. The king willnae let ye stay on yer own. Ye are a ward of the crown, now.” “So, he’ll marry me off to some rebellious laird he wants to drag over to his side, using me and my lands to hold him?” “Nae. No’ so bad as all that.” “Mayhap to a wealthy laird who’s all but doddering in his cups, hoping I’ll no’ breed an heir before he dies, giving title of the land to the king and my next husband?” Ranald lifted an eyebrow. The lass was getting worked up over nothing. “Marriage, yes. Doddering auld man, no.” Riona snapped her head to one side, a glower on her face. “Then, who?” Ranald swallowed and offered a crooked smile. “Me.” * * * Amazon Buy Link: www.amzn.com/B00J1PNPPC/ Website: www.cathymacraeauthor.com Blog: www.cathymacraeauthor.com/bits-n-bobs/ Facebook: Cathy MacRae or Cathy MacRae Author email: cathymacrae@cathymacraeauthor.com I love to hear from readers! |
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