#HighlandMiracle #HistoricalRomance

 

Title: Highland Miracle

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Paranormal/Historical

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

 

Buy at Amazon:  

 

BLURB: Highland Miracle

 

HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean Michael Sterling, landed in the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t understand, assuming the role of Laird Sterling. 

ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches for a way out of her half brother’s house.

 

EXCERPT: Highland Miracle

 

"Look, Tia," Reagan said as she pointed toward a nearby hill.  

"What is it?" 

"A handsome stranger," Reagan giggled, instantly transfixed by the man. "Coming to dance around the May Pole?" Reagan looked a little more closely. "Oh, it's the Laird of Sterling Castle. Why is he on foot?"

"You are not thinking what I think," Tia said. "You dinnae know who he is. He looks like the laird but then he doesn't."

"How do I look?" Regan asked, ignoring Tia and smoothing her skirts then hoping she looked beautiful enough to snare this man. She wanted to sweep the laird off his feet. This might be her one and only chance.

She heard the celebration in the background and watched as all eyes rose to meet the Laird's. Her brother William's eyes were startled then guarded and thoughtful. Tia's were intrigued. Some of the others gazes were wary and distrustful. They were a superstitious lot here in the Highlands. But even as she watched the people around her, she could not fully keep her attention from the Laird who had never attended this celebration before. 

She felt a curious draw as she met his piercing gaze. She had only once before seen the man. He was an illusive creature, usually keeping inside the walls of his castle. Rumor had it the castle was haunted and the ghost was a woman who kept him from finding true love or happiness.

"Who do you think he is and where did he come from?" Tia asked peering intently at the man. "I really don't think it's the Laird. No one has spoken to the man in years. He is so withdrawn. A few months ago people were saying he had died."

The man possessed a calm air as if he knew and recognized all the people in front of him. His dark gaze was mysterious, and when he stopped walking, he stood as still as a rock, striking and in clothes she had never seen anyone wear before. She had thought then, though, it would not have mattered what he wore.

Reagan could not draw her eyes from his and felt her flesh grow warm. The way he stared at her was unnerving. Her heart thundered beneath her chest. It seemed as if she knew this man from some long ago time.

But that wasn't possible.

It was May Day. The very air was filled with such excitement, and now this man was here as if sent for her and her alone. In the meadow maids and youths already danced around the Maypole. A man with a bear had the animal dancing circles upon his hind feet, and a marionette show was in progress. A flutist played in honor of King James, a group of Highlanders played the bagpipes. Noise and confusion flourished. The day was bright, clear blue, and so very beautiful. 

She saw a strange gold dusting swirling and dancing in the air around her. Instantly, she felt compelled toward the stranger. For a moment she thought someone spoke to her, encouraging her onward.

Reagan was grateful she'd taken so much time with her clothes. Her hose were white silk, and her little leather slippers were blue decorated with glass stones. Next to her flesh she wore a soft silk shift and over it a binding corset and three different petticoats. The dress was blue brocade, with stomachers in velvet, low-cut bodices, and half sleeves with scores of blue lace. Her facemask was covered with feathers and plumes. Her golden hair was done in ringlets, tied through with blue satin ribbons.  When she'd looked at herself in the mirror, she had been quite pleased with the results. 

So lost in thought, she had lost track of the man. 

Until he stood next to her.

"A...hi," he said. "I'm Sean Michael Sterling." He stared at her with dark dangerous brown eyes as he crossed his arms on his chest.

#SciFiFantasySaturday #HighlandMiracle

 

Title: Highland Miracle

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Paranormal/Historical

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

 

Buy at Amazon:  

 

BLURB: Highland Miracle

 

HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean Michael Sterling, landed in the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t understand, assuming the role of Laird Sterling. 

ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches for a way out of her half brother’s house.

 

EXCERPT: Highland Miracle

 

"Look, Tia," Reagan said as she pointed toward a nearby hill.  

"What is it?" 

"A handsome stranger," Reagan giggled, instantly transfixed by the man. "Coming to dance around the May Pole?" Reagan looked a little more closely. "Oh, it's the Laird of Sterling Castle. Why is he on foot?"

"You are not thinking what I think," Tia said. "You dinnae know who he is. He looks like the laird but then he doesn't."

"How do I look?" Regan asked, ignoring Tia and smoothing her skirts then hoping she looked beautiful enough to snare this man. She wanted to sweep the laird off his feet. This might be her one and only chance.

She heard the celebration in the background and watched as all eyes rose to meet the Laird's. Her brother William's eyes were startled then guarded and thoughtful. Tia's were intrigued. Some of the others gazes were wary and distrustful. They were a superstitious lot here in the Highlands. But even as she watched the people around her, she could not fully keep her attention from the Laird who had never attended this celebration before. 

She felt a curious draw as she met his piercing gaze. She had only once before seen the man. He was an illusive creature, usually keeping inside the walls of his castle. Rumor had it the castle was haunted and the ghost was a woman who kept him from finding true love or happiness.

"Who do you think he is and where did he come from?" Tia asked peering intently at the man. "I really don't think it's the Laird. No one has spoken to the man in years. He is so withdrawn. A few months ago people were saying he had died."

The man possessed a calm air as if he knew and recognized all the people in front of him. His dark gaze was mysterious, and when he stopped walking, he stood as still as a rock, striking and in clothes she had never seen anyone wear before. She had thought then, though, it would not have mattered what he wore.

Reagan could not draw her eyes from his and felt her flesh grow warm. The way he stared at her was unnerving. Her heart thundered beneath her chest. It seemed as if she knew this man from some long ago time.

But that wasn't possible.

It was May Day. The very air was filled with such excitement, and now this man was here as if sent for her and her alone. In the meadow maids and youths already danced around the Maypole. A man with a bear had the animal dancing circles upon his hind feet, and a marionette show was in progress. A flutist played in honor of King James, a group of Highlanders played the bagpipes. Noise and confusion flourished. The day was bright, clear blue, and so very beautiful. 

She saw a strange gold dusting swirling and dancing in the air around her. Instantly, she felt compelled toward the stranger. For a moment she thought someone spoke to her, encouraging her onward.

Reagan was grateful she'd taken so much time with her clothes. Her hose were white silk, and her little leather slippers were blue decorated with glass stones. Next to her flesh she wore a soft silk shift and over it a binding corset and three different petticoats. The dress was blue brocade, with stomachers in velvet, low-cut bodices, and half sleeves with scores of blue lace. Her facemask was covered with feathers and plumes. Her golden hair was done in ringlets, tied through with blue satin ribbons.  When she'd looked at herself in the mirror, she had been quite pleased with the results. 

So lost in thought, she had lost track of the man. 

Until he stood next to her.

"A...hi," he said. "I'm Sean Michael Sterling." He stared at her with dark dangerous brown eyes as he crossed his arms on his chest.

#RomanceSunday 3

 

Legacy of Angels

Genie Gabriel

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

 

Buy at Amazon: Buy at Barnes & Noble: 

 

BLURB: Legacy of Angels

 

Claudia deGras was forced into prostitution by her mother at age twelve. In spite of the trauma and abuse, she dreams of a respectful life filled with joy, laughter and the love of one man. Ironically, that man is Patrick O'Shea, a priest facing demons of his own. Since seminary, he has suffered memory loss and darkness at the edges of his vision that extend into his soul. They are drawn together in a deeply emotional journey of healing that becomes a life-and-death challenge to outwit the twisted man-beast who has vowed revenge against all he thinks have wronged him.

"I'm not safe anywhere." Terror beat in Claudia deGras' heart, pulsed through her veins, shut down any rational thought. Get out of here!

 

EXCERPT: Legacy of Angels

 

She bolted toward the door, not daring to look back as the sound of heavy footsteps followed her.

 

The old brown sedan sitting in the driveway always had the keys in the ignition. Most of the time, it started without much protest.

 

Claudia flung open the door and cranked the key. The engine caught and roared as she shoved the accelerator to the floor. Two doors banged shut as the old Buick slid sideways on the gravel, then found traction on the pavement.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Patrick O'Shea on the wide bench seat beside her, his hand braced against the dashboard for balance, but his face reflected his normal serenity.

 

Could she trust him? Did she have a choice? And where was she going?

 

She eased her foot off the accelerator and settled the old sedan into a speed that wouldn't get them stopped by the police, though patrols were rare on this sparsely traveled road in Eastern Oregon. 

 

While she drove the highway in silence, the childhood memories of curses and shouting and fists landing heavy blows on her body receded, and her panicked mind calmed down. 

 

No one had harmed her today. In fact, over the last few weeks the O'Shea siblings, including Patrick, had rearranged their lives to protect her from the man-beast who stalked her. 

 

She shivered. 

 

The man-beast was the real danger.

 

"Take the next exit." Patrick's deep voice interrupted Claudia's thoughts. 

 

Patrick's wisdom and gentleness had provided a balm to Claudia's soul many times during the time she had been recovering from her physical wounds at his mother's rambling farmhouse. Today, she discovered the emotional fears were deeper than she imagined. Facing the man-beast again--even in her memory--pushed her into a panicked flight.

 

Now reason was returning and adrenaline ebbing, and Claudia floundered. Once again, Patrick's reassuring voice provided an anchor, so she followed his instructions. Down a paved road for several miles, flanked on either side by acres of rangeland turning dusty gold in the early summer heat. Then another turn onto a graveled road with no other traffic. Finally off any road entirely, bumping over the rangeland to come to a stop under a sheltering copse of trees near a lake.

 

After Claudia turned off the engine, Patrick opened the car door. "Come with me." 

 

He walked toward the lake, not looking back. 

 

Claudia watched him for long minutes. Was he simply going to leave her? 

 

The land sloped downward where Patrick now walked, making it seem like he was disappearing. When only the top of his head was still in view, panic seized Claudia once again. "Wait!" 

 

She jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind her, running to catch up with Patrick. She topped the knoll and stopped, her chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion and fright. 

 

Patrick stood looking up at her, the same serene expression on his face. Then he turned and continued walking to the water's edge. Hidden in the tall reeds was a raft that looked as if it would sink with the weight of the family of ducks swimming nearby. However, when Patrick climbed on, the craft barely dipped before stabilizing. He turned and reached out his hand in invitation. Cautious but curious, Claudia climbed aboard. 

 

Using a long pole, Patrick pushed them across the lake and under a rocky outcropping. He secured the raft to a sawed-off tree stump that served as a pier post for a make-shift dock and stepped off. "Be careful. It can be slippery." 

 

Intrigued, Claudia once again took Patrick's hand and climbed off the raft. They walked toward a sheer rock cliff topped by ruins of what could have been an ancient stone cathedral. However, as they reached the cliff, Patrick slipped through a notch in one of the rocks. Once inside, he retrieved a flashlight from a pocket in the rock wall and turned it on, revealing a narrow corridor. Claudia followed him down a winding pathway for what seemed like miles. Patrick walked without hesitation, turning down side tunnels until she felt totally disoriented. 

 

At last he stopped in front of a solid rock wall. Well, it appeared solid. Until he slid aside what must have been a doorway, revealing into a cavernous room.

 

"Where are we?" Claudia asked. 

 

Patrick turned with a half-smile. "Safe. That's what you wanted, right?"

#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #Ella'sPleasures

 

Title: Ella’s Pleasure

Twelve Dancing Princesses Book Seven

 

Author: Christine Young

Genre: Historical Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4

 

Buy at: Amazon,

Read First Chapter

 

 

TAGLINE: Ella's Pleasure

 

Ella Hepburn discovers passion and desire can overcome everything she's been taught to resist.

 

BLURB: Ella's Pleasure

 

A WHISPER OF PLEASURE

 

Ella Hepburn Is an auburn haired debutant from the harsh Scottish coastline—a wild innocent to be seduced and tamed. A spirited beauty, she captivated Drake Montgomerie's jaded heart—while succumbing to the smoldering desire she felt for her unyielding suitor.

 

A WHISPER OF DANGER

 

In Drake Montgomerie's glittering world of money and privilege, young Ella discovered passion and desire could overcome everything she'd been taught to resist—entangling Drake, the heir apparent, in a lethal coil of aristocratic family intrigue. But grave peril would only nurse the sparks of a love that knew no limits and a magnificent ecstasy that would not be denied.

 

 

 

EXCERPT: Ella's Pleasure

 

 

“Come, let’s take this path.” He settled one hand on the small of her back, directing her to the left. “I want to show you something.”

She gazed at him with wide eyes. “What? It’s getting late, I’m sure The Duchess will be looking for us.”

“Trust me, she won’t have to search for you. Between my men and Scarlett, they know exactly where we are. I mean to elude them for a few minutes of privacy.” He bent close to her and whispered. “I want to kiss you and there are just too many folks here.”

“Kiss me? I like your kisses.”

“I’m glad.” Lord, but he didn’t know what he’d do if she’d told him the opposite. “This way.” They were strolling deeper into the gardens where fewer people walked. Privacy was what he wanted; this was exactly where he meant to steal a real kiss from Ella Hepburn.

“What are those noises?” she stopped and looked at him, searching for the source of the sounds.

He ran one finger between his collar and neck attempting to figure out what to tell her. “They are people enjoying pleasure.”

The expression on her face outlined by the gaslights amazed him. “Is it what I’m thinking?”

“I don’t know. What do you believe you hear?” He laughed inside at the joy he felt about this inquisitive lady.

“Well, I don’t think they are just kissing.” Even in the half-light he watched the blush rise on her cheeks as she covered her mouth as if she understood what was going on all around her.

“Remember our conversation about love making?”

She nodded her eyes huge with wonder. “In public?”

“My darling girl, can you see them?”

“No, but I now know what they are doing.”

“Hush,” he said, guiding her to a spot just beneath a light. “I’m going to kiss you until your Auntie finds us and stops me from having my wicked way with you in those bushes.”

He turned Ella and looking into her eyes, his mouth descended to meet hers. His hands at the small of her back pulled her close. With a surprised gasp she delighted him by opening her mouth. His tongue invaded with a primal urgency, creating a mercuric heat within. Tasting her sweetness and the honeyed depth of her mouth, his groan emanated from deep within.

Ella responded by wrapping her hands around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. Slipping her tongue inside his mouth, she met him with courage and passion. Her tiny feminine cry of surrender gave him confidence she enjoyed him. His hands slipped lower to cover her derriere and pull her tight against his pulsing cock, wondering if she understood the intense desire emanating from him.

He accepted all of her; teeth, tongue, lips, pressed together in an age-old rhythm. Taking her inside himself was heaven on earth. For a moment he pulled away, needing to see her eyes. Her face, flushed with pleasure, enticed him and his mouth found hers once more. Never wanting this to end, his kiss became urgent, and she responded with so much passion he wanted to bury himself deep inside her warmth. For today and this moment the kiss would have to be enough.

A sudden sharp pain shot across his back. “Stop this, Drake Montgomerie.” Another whack hit him in the buttocks and another. “Stop. Unhand Miss Ella before I let my sword slip from its hiding place.”

 

 

KEYWORDS

 

Historical, Romance, Regency, England

 

SOCIAL LIINKS

 

http://christineyoungromancewriter.com/

http://christineyoung-romancewriter.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/Christine-Young-350132315013316/

https://twitter.com/achristay

https://www.pinterest.com/chrisy/

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FZQGXL4

 

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Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/ella-s-pleasure

 

Apple:  https://tools.applemediaservices.com/book/1536813932?country=us

#HighlandMagic #HistoricalRomance

 

Highland Magic

Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

 

Buy at Amazon: 

 

 

BLURB: Highland Magic

 

Throughout the Highlands she is known as Keely, the witch woman. She is a great healer-a woman whose dreams come true. Ian MacPherson is a man who puts honor, loyalty and duty above everything. Their lives are entwined when Ian is sent by the Scottish King to bring Keely to trial for witchcraft. He is attacked and left for dead, but Keely rescues him. When he wakes, he discovers he has no memory. As he remembers his lost past, Ian finds that his need to protect the woman who has saved his life eclipses his duty to his king and country. He is a man torn between honor and duty to his country and the woman he loves.

 

 

REVIEW: Highland Magic

4.0 out of 5 stars February 24, 2013 By  H. Murphy "H"

 

I have enjoyed this series. Strong alpha highlanders....what more could a girl want. The heroin is strong but sometimes just doesn't think....but that makes for the drama. Off to the third book.

 

 

Excerpt: Highland Magic

 

Scotland, Summer 1513:

 

For a moment the man's gaze met hers, bored into her heart, questioned. Blood curdling war cries rode the wings of death through the timeless night. Claymores clashed. Dark eyes the color of midnight flashed a challenge. The holy man's opponents hesitated then lunged once more.

 

Moonbeams reflected light from the gold chain he wore around his neck. Brown robes fell from massive shoulders. Three more enemies appeared from the trees. The priest fell to the ground, wounded by the broadside of his enemy's weapon. Motionless, he lay on her flower-strewn meadow, blood staining the grass and wildflowers, marring the colorful, summer landscape.

 

Keely Gray woke, heart pounding a rapid staccato. She pressed against her throbbing temples with sweat-slick palms, hoping to ease the horrific pain that always accompanied the dreams. Death--the scent of blood, fear and treachery still hung heavy in the darkened hut. The prickling sensation radiating from her spine to encompass her body was too familiar.

 

She listened and heard nothing.

 

A dark void impaled her. The usual night sounds stilled. She heard no hoot of owl, no chirp of crickets, no croak of frogs, nor could she hear the mournful sighing of the wind through the branches of the old oak trees.

 

Silence emptied her heart as well as her soul, leaving only an ever-present loneliness.

 

Keely wanted nothing more than to cuddle into her bed and pull the covers over her head. Despite the unspeakable agony deep in the pit of her stomach, she rose from her pallet. Her limbs trembling, she slipped a shapeless tunic over her head and soft-soled shoes onto her feet. As she swept past the front door, she grabbed her woolen cloak.

 

Light from a full moon illuminated the path. She could see, but she could also be seen, the moonlight both a curse and a blessing. Approaching the meadow she'd watched in her dreams, she slowed her pace and waited. Her fingers wound tightly around the amber pendant she always wore, her only keepsake from her mother.

 

The sounds and scents hovering on the wind would tell her if danger still lurked. Caution guided her. A vigilance she'd learned long ago held her motionless.

 

 A familiar dragging sound reassured her she wasn't alone. "Whipple?" she whispered.

 

A self-appointed guardian angel appeared as if from nowhere then nodded, though there was a wary cast to his faded blue eyes. "Aye, lass, I'm here. I heard ye leave your hut. I would not leave ye alone to face whatever dangerous mission awaited."

 

Keely waited for Whipple to close the distance between them before she spoke. "I would argue with you about your appearance here at this great hour, but I ken it would do no good. You should not be here. Your heart--"

 

Whipple spat. "My heart is fine."

 

She determinedly stepped forward, approaching the meadow of her dream, knowing she wouldn't like what she found.

 

"Have it your way, then." Given a choice, Keely wouldn't have come to this meadow. But she had to know the truth--had she seen the future or something happening at that very moment?

 

Whipple didn't reply. On his clubfoot, he followed her, his trailing leg sliding behind him with a soft swish. The hard thud of his crooked oak cane followed at a slightly skewed interval.

 

Together they crested the hill. Below her, she saw her dream. A priest lay on the ground, his head twisted at an odd angle. For a moment her heart stopped. She bit down on her lower lip while she studied the man.

#Connal'sEternalLove #Historical/ParanormalRoamnce

 

Title: Connal’s Eternal Love

            Sweet McKenna Book One

Author: Christine Young

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Book Heat Level:

 

Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble,Apple, Kobo, Google Play

 

Read first chapter

 

TAGLINE

 

Setting out to discover the wickedness that is calling to him, Connal McKenna, Laird of Clan Chattan, discovers his mate.

 

BLURB: Connal’s Eternal Love

 

 

 

A few days shy of All Hallows' Eve Connal McKenna, Laird of Clan Chattan stands on the parapets of his castle. Bonfires line the hillsides while his clan prepares for the upcoming festivities. Drawn by the whispering of the wind, Connal McKenna feels a strange restlessness in his soul. Setting out to discover the wickedness that is calling to him, he discovers his mate. With gentle words and sensuous kisses, the auburn-eyed highlander conquers his mate, the beautiful, defiant Wynnie Adair who he comes upon during an evening ride. She must ultimately put her trust in the only man who can save her from the ruthless plans of her father and succumb to his gentle coaxing.

 

 

EXCERPT: Connal’s Eternal Love

 

He heard the pounding of the hooves, a single horse, but racing down the darkened road, shadows hiding the horse and rider. Suddenly, the silhouetted form raced around the bend in the road, cape and brilliant hair flying behind. Moonlight caught the vibrant strands for a brief moment sending slivers of color to greet his gaze. Connal’s heartbeat stopped then slowly began to beat again, the brilliance or the color, shimmering a deep red catching all the meager light until the elements appeared on fire.

            Connal’s breath caught in his throat, captivated by the site as the woman drew closer. She didn’t seem to see them, continuing on her wild ride toward him. Yet to Connal, she seemed remarkably skilled for a woman, vulnerable as well. He only knew of one other woman who could ride that well and that heedlessly without injury. His sister.

            When the woman was too close to turn around and race in the opposite direction, “Hold!” Connal raised his sword, moonlight glinting off the steel. Behind him, his men did the same.

            She pulled on the reins to stop the stallion’s mad dash down the road before she would run into him. The horse reared its front legs rising high, pawing in the air as she clung to him, desperately hanging on.

            “No,” her whispered word did not escape Connal. The single word sounded and felt like a cry for help.

            Yet perhaps he was mistaken. As soon as the young woman controlled the horse, she dashed through the woods away from them. A moment of breathless silence followed before Connal regained his wits, pushing the cobwebs from his brain.

            “Stay here and wait for me,” he ordered then followed the woman into the trees, hell bent on catching up with her. He suddenly felt alive and whole, all instincts driving him forward to claim the prize that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

            He couldn’t see or hear her. Pulling to a stop he listened and the silence was foreboding, unnerving. The wind’s murmurs no longer sounded evil to him, just fearful. She must have done the same. With nothing to lose, he would wait for her to make her move and when she did, he would have her and discover what caused her frantic and wild race this evening. He would ascertain what motivated her to put herself in such danger.

            It did not take long. A few minutes later he heard the swish of movement through the bushes. He smiled; his keen hearing would pay off. She must not realize it, but she was slowly moving toward him. When she was close, he spurred his horse, capturing the reins of hers before she could flee again.

            “You are mine now.” And he understood his words were true despite the fact she would gainsay him at every turn. His heart beat stronger suddenly and his mind cleared.

            “No!” This time her cry was of alarm and horror. “Leave me alone.” She tried to push his hand away, swatting at him but to no avail. “I weel nay go back.”

            “I won’t hurt you, lass,” he said as her fist hit his jaw. Then needing to laugh, “I suppose I didn’t see that coming.”

            “I’ve heard that before,” she grit out, still pushing at his hands, struggling away from him. “You’ve no right.”

            “Which part? I won’t hurt you or I didn’t see it coming.”

            “Let me go.” She jerked on the reins to no avail.

            “Stop it.” He tried to grab her around the waist to lift her onto his horse, hoping to control her struggles and subdue her in the process yet he realized that would not be an easy feat.

            “Never,” she said, still hitting at him, her fingernails raking across his face, drawing rivulets of blood. This time she pushed so hard, she fell from her horse.

For a moment, she lay stunned on the ground, gasping for air. That tiny second gave him time to dismount and reach for her. He held her now, once again her arms and legs flying through the air, her efforts directed at him. He wanted to shake some sense into her and tell her she didn’t need to fight him. He meant her no harm, but he also understood she wouldn’t believe him.

He didn’t know what to tell her. She needed to stop this foolishness before one of them got hurt. At this moment, he suspected it would be him who took the brunt of her blows.

            “Let me go. You’ve no right.” Her words were short and pained. She was very nearly breathless, exhausted by her desperate thrashing.

The pounding on his chest weakened her until she fell limp in his arms, her head resting against his chest. He heard the long raspy attempts for air, felt the rapid beat of her heart against him. In her gasp for air, a sob rumbled forth. A moment of sympathy or perhaps it was empathy that filled his soul for this lass.

            “Now are you going to stop fighting me?” he asked, even as she pulled back, hitting him in the chest with her head then with one last and very weak punch she quit for the moment.

 

KEYWORDS

 

Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, Shapeshifters, Scotland, Highlands

 

 

Website: http://christineyoungromancewriter.com

 

Blogspot: http://christineyoung-romancewriter.blogspot.com

 

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Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/christine-young-5a991c21-1f11-47a0-ada5-6c2e6b689cbe

 

 

LINKS

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WHWBKSX

 

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/connals-eternal-love-christine-young/1138815900;jsessionid=A03E1A028BC9EC5E24A0E085926B79A4.prodny_store02-atgap12?ean=2940162219156

 

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/connals-eternal-love/id1554003307?itsct=books_toolbox&itscg=30200&ct=books_connal%27s_eternal_love&ls=1

 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/connal-s-eternal-love

 

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=A80cEAAAQBAJ

#TellTaleTuesday #HighlandHonor

 

Highland Honor

Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

 

Buy at Amazon: Barnes & Noble

 

BLURB: Highland Honor

 

Highland Honor

The first book in the Highland Series

 

Willfully stubborn, innocently courageous, Callie Whitcomb braves a journey through the treacherous highlands to the Macpherson castle. Callie flees from an unwanted marriage as well as her ruthless half brother. Naively she believes Colin MacPherson, the head of the clan, is loyal to her father and will give her sanctuary, protecting her from the vile plans that have been made for her.

 

As hard and as unyielding as the winter storms that sweep through the countryside, Colin is irresistibly drawn to the impetuous beauty who has magically appeared on his doorsteps. Despite his vows of revenge against her father, she stirs his passion as well as his sense of justice...but to love her would violate all his vows of revenge.

 

 

EXCERPT: Highland Honor

 

Scotland November 1512: 

 

A heavy frost sat on the frozen earth, and a full moon shone clearly between the heavy clouds dotting the sky. Lady Callie Whitcomb looked over her shoulder as she raced through the deepening gloom toward the lighted tavern ahead. Every shadow, every mournful sigh of the wind sweeping through the trees, every chilling animal sound filled her with terror. Fear for her life drove her to put all thoughts of danger aside. He would follow her, find her, and drag her home. 

 

Home. 

 

"Don't think of that now," she reminded herself fiercely, even while tears stung in the back of her throat and fear made her limbs tremble. "Don't ye dare think of home. It no longer exists." Nothing and no one could coax her back or make her believe there was naught but terror in the home where she'd been born. 

 

"I will never marry Lord Huntington. Never!" she whispered fiercely, the chill night air solemnly echoing her words. 

 

Her stepbrother, Archibald Covington III, made sure she could never return. 

 

"There ye be, lass! I've been waiting for you." 

 

The voice rose from nowhere and surprised her. Her heart froze, lurched, then began an erratic beat, while raw nerves snapped, sending a myriad of sensations racing down her spine. 

 

"Archibald--" she whispered, panic sweeping through her. "He's found me." All she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears. 

 

Before she could reach her destination, before she could find safe refuge from him, his men had found her. No! Not now. Not when she thought she had eluded them all. 

 

A wave of fear sweeping through her reminded her, that if caught, she would be taken back to Archibald and forced to marry Lord Huntington. 

 

"I'll help you down, lass." 

 

"No." 

 

Before she could react and spur her horse forward, callous, rough hands centered on her waist then pulled her from her mount. 

 

"No!" She cried out to no avail. Regaining her wits, she beat fiercely upon the man's broad chest, tearing at his face and his thick beard with her fingers. 

 

"Ach, lass! Hold still! I mean ye no harm. Stop this--" His voice was gruff and impatient. 

 

Fear for her life had spurred her haste. Terror she might see Huntington or Archibald with each turn of the road haunted every hour of her journey. Archibald had retainers everywhere. Messages would have been sent. A highlander could be bought. 

 

"Ruffian! Unhand me! Ye barbarous Scotsman." 

 

If Archibald had guessed what path she followed... 

 

"Verra well, ne'er let it be said that I dinna do a lass' bidding." Just as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, his hold upon her vanished. She stumbled backward. 

 

Instantly, she found herself sitting on the frozen earth. The man towering above her watched her with concerned dark eyes. Despite the scar stretching from forehead to chin, his mouth quirked upward in a humorous slant. 

 

"Ye be a handful, lass." 

 

 

Mary of A Romance Review says, "Overall I liked the story and can recommend it as a worthwhile read. The author has a lot of talent and the plot and tension of the story are well handled."

 

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0064FJ8Q2

 

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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/highland-honor-11