Sins of a Highland Devil

by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  “Something like that, anyway.” She spoke as they picked their way through rock and heather. “Innocents have already shed blood here, and James believes the autumn gold of whin and broom fulfills the rest of the riddle. We wed last October and you, then Marjory, must also be autumn brides.

  “Until then, my ambers will keep you safe.” She lowered her voice, not wanting Marjory to hear. “There are strange things around Castle Nought. You’ll be glad for the protection of my charmed stones.”

  “Then I thank you. But—” Isobel started, pointing. “Oh, look! Here comes James.”

  Catriona turned, spotting her husband at once. Looking furious, he was just striding out of the thick wood where, so many months ago, they’d had their fateful encounter in the morning mist.

  And he was heading straight for the hill where Catriona now stood alone.

  Her friends—damn their faithless eyes—had dashed off in the other direction, leaving her alone to face James’ anger.

  “Odin’s balls!” he roared when he reached her. “Aye, I knew you’re headstrong, but what were you thinking coming out here before sunrise and”—his fierce gaze flashed to her aching breasts, then lower to her somewhat thicker middle—“putting our son in danger?”

  “You knew?” Catriona blinked. Her heart split. The hot passion in his words filled her with more joy than the whole world could contain.

  “To be sure, I know!” He swept her up in his arms, holding her hard against him. “Everyone in this glen knows, and we’re all tired of waiting for you to tell us.”

  “But you’ve been so busy. I didn’t want—”

  “What I want is to shout my happiness from the battlements, you little vixen.” He stopped, lowering his head to kiss her. “We’ll have a celebratory feast this e’en to announce the news. It’s a good time, with Alasdair and Kendrew at Castle Haven just now.

  “But first, I’m of a mood to take you on a journey.” He kissed her again, deeper this time, and so savagely that her toes curled. “Aye, we need to be on our way—quickly!”

  Catriona pulled back to look at him. “A journey?”

  He nodded, smiling. “So I said.”

  “But where?” Catriona puzzled.

  “You cannae guess?” He lifted a brow, looking amused. “It’s a place I vow you’ll love.”

  “Then tell me.” She slid her arms around his neck, wanting to know.

  Something told her he had something very special in mind.

  “I thought we might visit the north lands.” He winked, the heat in his eyes melting her.

  “The north lands?” Catriona’s heart began to pound.

  “Oh, aye, sweetness.” He kissed her again. “I thought we’d explore a few ice floes. If you’re of a mind?”

  “I am!” She could hardly wait. “You know how much I love the cold.”

  “That I do,” he agreed.

  And then he set off for his castle, carrying his bride and grinning.

  Life was good in the Glen of Many Legends.

  And as the morning progressed, the soft spring air filled with frost…

  Read below for a preview of the next book in the

  Highland Warriors trilogy,

  TEMPTATION OF A

  HIGHLAND SCOUNDREL

  Available in mass market, August 2011.

  The Legacy of the Dreagan Stones

  Tales are told of a wild and untamed vale deep in the Scottish Highlands. Protected by high, rocky crags, blessed with rolling heather moors, and kissed by soft mist and the silver sheen of the sea, this fair place is known as the Glen of Many Legends.

  Three clans—MacDonalds, Camerons, and Mackintoshes—call the glen home. These clans feuded in the past but now bide a recent truce. Each clan believes their corner of the glen is the finest. Clan Mackintosh boasts that their holding is more. They speak true, for their rugged, upland territory is home to the dreagan stones; strange outcroppings that litter the rough ground beneath Castle Nought, the forbidding Mackintosh stronghold that rises almost seamlessly from the cliffs that edge the glen’s northernmost boundary.

  No one knows the true origin of the dreagan stones.

  Odd things happen on Mackintosh land, especially on nights of dark, impenetrable mist, so many believe the unusual rock formations are sleeping dreagans. Dragons turned to stone, but able to waken and spread terror if they wish to do so.

  Some tales are even more chilling.

  Kendrew Mackintosh, clan chief, is proud of this legacy. Dreagans do lie beneath the dreagan rocks. He has seen them and knows.

  And now they are stirring.

  Kendrew suspects the dreagans resent the fragile peace that has descended on the glen. Clan Mackintosh has always been a warring tribe. Quiet living runs against their heated nature, so he welcomes the dreagans’ unrest.

  He, too, is restless. He’d rather stir trouble than pace his keep like a caged beast.

  A man was born to fight, not lie idle.

  He needn’t worry, because tragedy is about to strike, giving him ample cause to swing Blood Drinker, his huge war ax. Along with sword-wielding foemen and stony-backed, fire-breathing dreagans, he’ll be fighting a greater challenge than he would have believed.

  His opponent is a woman.

  And their battle begins in the shadow of the dreagan stones.

  Acknowledgment

  If it’s possible to be born loving a place, I came into this world with Scotland engraved on my heart. I visit as often as I can and being there replenishes my soul, filling me with awe and wonder, and always rejuvenating my muse. One of my greatest joys in writing is returning in my mind to the wild landscapes of hill, glen, and moor that inspire me.

  When I write, I’m there again, surrounded by rock, wind, heather, and mist. My spirit soars and my office fills with the scents of cold, northern seas, pine and whin, and just the right trace of earthy-rich peat smoke. In those precious moments, the special places that haunt my memory come alive.

  My new Highland Warriors trilogy is set in one of those special places. The Glen of Many Legends is fictitious, but its inspiration was one of the most rugged and savagely beautiful areas of the Western Highlands. Known in Gaelic as Garbh-chriochan, the “Rough Bounds,” this lonesome stretch of dark hills, empty moors, and spectacular coastline, remains one of Scotland’s most remote and inaccessible regions. Comprised of several districts, including Ardnamurchan, Moidart, Arisaig, Morar, and Knoydart, this boldly beautiful place is also rich in lore and legend.

  Many of the more romantic tales lead to Moidart’s Castle Tioram, an ancient stronghold of the Clanranald Macdonalds. Today, Tioram is a picturesque ruin. A place where the distant past feels so close, it’s impossible to walk there and not expect to see plaid-draped clansmen rise from the heather, or catch the mournful wail of pipes. It’s a place where memories remain and clan pride lingers, inextinguishable.

  Tioram inspired Catriona MacDonald’s Blackshore Castle. I took the liberty of making Blackshore a Clan Donald stronghold. Blackshore, like Tioram, stands on an island in Loch Moidart. I used a stone causeway to connect the castle to the shore. In reality, a spit of sand provides this access, dependent on tides.

  My affection for Clan Donald is deep and I have ancestral ties to the clan. My Hebridean forebears were the Hereditary Keepers of the Records for the MacDonalds, Lords of the Isles. My fondness for MacDonalds made writing this book a special joy.

  Several women help me bring my books to life. Roberta M. Brown, my agent and dearest friend. She’s my greatest champion. Karen Kosztolnyik, my much-appreciated editor. If I could, I’d give her a medieval strongbox filled with gleaming ambers. She knows why. Special thanks to Celia Johnson, for being so helpful and nice. And an appreciative wave to my copy editor, Anna Maria Piluso, who is so good she makes copy edits a pleasure. Ladies, I’m so grateful.

  Endless thanks and love to my very handsome husband, Manfred, who gallantly lets me follow my dreams and always has my back. And my little dog,
Em, who is my lodestar. One kiss from him, a single tail wag, and the worst storm evaporates. He’s everything to me and there aren’t words for how much I love him.

  THE DISH

  Where authors give you the inside scoop!

  From the desk of Vicky Dreiling

  Dear Reader,

  The idea for HOW TO MARRY A DUKE came about purely by chance. One fateful evening while surfing 800+ channels on TV, I happened upon a reality show featuring a hunky bachelor and twenty-five beauties competing for his heart. As I watched the antics, a story idea popped into my head: the bachelor in Regency England (minus the hot tub and camera crew). The call to this writing adventure proved too irresistible to ignore.

  During the planning stages of the book, I encountered numerous obstacles. Even the language presented challenges that meant creating substitutes such as bridal candidates for bachelorettes. Obviously, I needed to concoct alternatives to steamy smooching in the hot tub and overnight dates. But regardless of the century, some things never change. I figured catfights were fair game.

  Before I could plunge into the writing, I had to figure out who the hero and heroine were. I picked up my imaginary remote control and surfed until I found Miss Tessa Mansfield, a wealthy, independent young woman with a penchant for matchmaking. In the short preview, she revealed that she only made love matches for all the ignored wallflowers. She, however, had no intention of ever marrying. By now I was on the edge of my seat. “Why?” I asked.

  The preview ended, leaving me desperate to find out more. So I changed the metaphorical channel and nearly swooned at my first glimpse of Tristan Gatewick, the Duke of Shelbourne. England’s Most Eligible Bachelor turned out to be the yummiest man I’d ever beheld. Evidently I wasn’t alone in my ardent appreciation. Every eligible belle in the Beau Monde was vying to win his heart.

  To my utter astonishment, Tristan slapped a newspaper on his desk and addressed me. “Madam, I am not amused with your ridiculous plot. Duty is the only reason I seek a wife, but you have made me the subject du jour in the scandal sheets. How the devil can I find a sensible bride when every witless female in Britain is chasing me?”

  I smiled at him. “Actually, I know someone who can help you.”

  He scoffed.

  I thought better of telling him he was about to meet his match.

  Cheers!

  www.vickydreiling.net

  From the desk of Carolyn Jewel

  Dear Reader,

  Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold. If you wait a bit before getting your payback, if you’re calm and rational, you’ll be in a better position to enjoy that sweet revenge. The downside, of course, is what can happen to you while you spend all this time plotting and planning. Some emotions shouldn’t be left to fester in your soul.

  Gray Spencer is a woman looking to serve up revenge while the embers are still glowing. She has reason. She does. Her normal, everyday life got derailed by a mage—a human who can do magic. Christophe dit Menart is a powerful mage with a few hundred years of living on her. Because of him, her life has been destroyed. Not just her life, but also the lives of her sister and parents.

  After she gets her freedom at a terrible cost, the only thing Gray wants is Christophe dit Menart dead for what he did—before he does the same horrific thing to someone else that he did to her.

  I know what you’re thinking and you’re right. A normal, nonmagical human like Gray can’t hope to go up against someone like Christophe. But Gray’s not normal—not anymore. She escaped because a demon gave his life for her and in the process transferred his magic to her. If she had any idea how to use that magic, she might have a chance against Christophe. Maybe.

  The demon warlord Nikodemus has negotiated a shaky peace agreement between the magekind and the demonkind. (Did I mention them? They are fiends, a kind of demon. And they don’t take kindly to the mages who kill them in order to extend their miserable magic-using human lives by stealing a demon’s life force.) Because of the peace, demons in Nikodemus’s territory have agreed not to harm the magekind. In return, the magekind aren’t supposed to kill any more demons.

  Basically the problem is this: Gray intends to kill Christophe, and the demon warlord’s most feared assassin has to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  Uh-oh.

  After all that, I have what may seem like a strange confession to make about my assassin hero who is, after all, a wee bit scary at times. He’s been alive for a long, long time, and for much of that time, women lived very restricted lives. Sometimes he is completely flummoxed by these modern women. It was a lot of fun writing a hero like that, and I hope you enjoy reading about how Christophe learns to deal with Gray as much as I enjoyed writing about it.

  Yours Sincerely,

  http://www.carolynjewel.com

  From the desk of Sophie Gunn

  Dear Reader,

  After years of living in upstate New York, my husband got a new job and we moved back to my small hometown outside Philadelphia. I was thrilled to be near my parents, brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins. (Hi, Aunt Lillian!) But I didn’t anticipate how close I would be to quite a few of my former high school classmates. Didn’t anyone ever leave this town? My life had turned into a nonstop high school reunion.

  And I was definitely still wearing the wrong dress.

  One by one, I encountered my former “enemies” from high school. They were at the gym, the grocery store, and the elementary school bake sale. It didn’t take long to realize two things. First, we had a blast rehashing the past. What had really happened at that eleventh-grade dance? What had become of Joey, the handsome captain of the football team? (Surprise, there he is now. Yes, he’s the one walking that tiny toy poodle on a pink, blinged-up leash!) Second, we were still terrifically different people, and it didn’t matter. We were grown-ups, and what someone wore or whom they dated didn’t feel so crucial anymore.

  Cups of coffee led to glasses of wine, which led to true friendship. But friendship that was different from any I’d ever known, because while we shared a past, our presents were still radically different. My husband started to jokingly call us the Enemy Club, and it stuck.

  That was what we writers call an aha moment.

  The Enemy Club would make a great book. Actually, a great series…

  The rest, as they say, is history. Each book of the Enemy Club series is set in small-town Galton, New York. Four friends who had been the worst of enemies are now the best of friends, struggling to help one another juggle jobs, kids, love, heartbreak, and triumph as seen from their very (very!) different points of view.

  HOW SWEET IT IS is the first book in the series. It focuses on Lizzie, the good girl gone bad. She made one mistake her senior year of high school that changed her life forever. Now she and her teenage daughter get by just fine, thank you very much, with a little help from the Enemy Club. But then Lizzie’s first love, the father who abandoned her daughter fourteen years before, decides to come back to town on Christmas Day. Lizzie imagines her life as seen through his eyes—and she doesn’t like what she sees. She has the same job, same house, same everything as when he left fourteen years earlier. She vows to make a change. But how much is she willing to risk? And does the mysterious stranger, who shows up in town promising to grant her every wish, have the answers? Or is he just another of life’s sweet, sweet mistakes?

  I’m really excited about these books, because they’re so close to my heart. Come visit me at www.sophiegunn.com to read an excerpt of HOW SWEET IT IS, to find out more about the Enemy Club, to see pictures of my cats, and to keep in touch. I’d love to hear from you!

  Yours,

  From the desk of Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  Dear Reader,

  Wild, heather-clad hills, empty glens, and the skirl of pipes stir the hearts of many. Female hearts beat fast at the flash of plaid. Yet I’ve seen grown men shed tears at the beauty of a Highland sunset. So many people love Scotland, and those of us who do know that our passion is
a double-edged sword. We live with a constant ache to be there. It’s a soul-deep yearning known as “the pull.”

  In SINS OF A HIGHLAND DEVIL, the first book in my new Highland Warriors trilogy, I wanted to explore the fierce attachment Highlanders feel for their home glen. Love that burns so hotly, they’ll even lay down their lives to hold on to the hills so dear to them.

  James Cameron and Catriona MacDonald, hero and heroine of SINS OF A HIGHLAND DEVIL, are bitter foes. Divided by centuries of clan feuds, strife, and rivalries, they share a fiery passion for the glen they each claim as their own. When a king’s writ threatens banishment, long-held boundaries blur and forbidden desires are unleashed. James and Catriona soon discover there is much pleasure to be found in each other’s embrace. But the price of their yearning must be paid in blood, and the battle facing them could shatter their world.

  Fortunately, true love can prove a more powerful weapon than any warrior’s sword.

  There are a lot of swords in this story. And the fight scenes are fierce. But passions flare when blood is spilled as James and Catriona showed me each day during the writing of their tale.

  It was an exhilarating journey.

  Catriona is a strong heroine who will brave any danger to protect her home and to win the heart of the man she never believed could be hers. James is a hardened warrior and proud clan leader, and he faces his greatest challenge when his beloved glen is threatened.

  Because SINS OF A HIGHLAND DEVIL is a romance, James and Catriona are triumphant. Their ending is a happy one. Numberless Highlanders after them weren’t as blessed. Later centuries saw the Clearances, while famine and other hardships did the rest. Clans were scattered, banished from their glens and hills as they were forced to sail to distant shores. Their hearts were irrevocably broken. But they kept their deep love of the land, their proud Celtic roots remaining true no matter where they settled.