30 May 2019

The Evernighties Blog Challange Week 22

The Best Gift I Ever Gave


I'm not sure how to answer this challenge. Do I toot my own horn? What if the people I gave gifts to didn't like them but were too nice to let me know? Or what if the gifts I gave meant more than I thought they did?

I take gift giving very seriously. I want people to know I thought about them and what their likes were, that I put thought into it. I mean, sometimes I've given gift cards simply because what the hell do you get a teenager? So I guess I'll answer this blog challenge by the gifts I really enjoyed giving.

When Mike and I started dating, I wanted to surprise him. For our first Christmas, I didn't want him to spend a lot of money on me (we'd only been dating a month), so I laid down some rules. Nothing over $10.00. We're both Star Wars fans, and I had this Chewbacca poster from childhood, given by some company as a promotion. There were four posters but I only had the one. I found it and bought a frame for $8.00. He was shocked and we have it hanging up now.

Another gift I gave were tickets to one of the opening games of The Vegas Golden Knights. We're both hockey fans, and we love our Vegas Born team, so I got us tickets for October 1st, 2017. It was a great game and we got to see the wonderful new T-Mobile arena (The Fortress). Unfortunately, it was also the night that 58 people lost their lives during a terrorist attack perpetrated by a horrible man.

While that gift was tainted by tragedy, his next birthday gift I got him tickets to a Dodger game when the St. Louis Cardnials were playing. We also love Cardnials baseball (both of us growing up in the Midwest), and we spent the weekend with our friends in LA and went to the baseball game. It was a great night, even though St. Louis lost.

**Make sure to check out the others in the Evernighties Blog challenge!

29 May 2019

Wednesday's Writer's Block Exercise - Week 21

Got Writer’s Block?

Yeah, it happens to the best of us.  Life gets in the way and your brain is taken in another direction and before you know it, it’s been days or weeks since you last looked at that book you’re trying to write.  You’ve forgotten little details.  What eye color did you give your hero?  What town was your heroine born in?  Perhaps you need to jumpstart your creative mojo, and that's what this series is designed for. Not to explain writer's block, but to help you move in a different direction.


This is a very common plot twist that many movies use, and I often write it in my own stories. I try to be sneaky about it, but sometimes I'm not sure if I've achieved that. Sometimes it all goes back to an insignificant moment in the narrative, a character barely seen. Those are the best ones because when you go back rewatch, or reread, it's like witnessing a completely new story!

Surprising the reader is always a good thing. The story will stay with him/her and so will your name. Then the person goes on a hunt of your backlog to find another book. This happens all the time, and a writer usually makes more money from their backlog this way. It's all about getting your name remembered so when a reader goes book shopping, they'll pull up your name.



#21 Imposter
Someone is not who he seems. Perhaps it's an ally- or maybe it's the hero.


>Imagine your hero's life is a deception. Who is he really, and why is he pretending to
be this character?

> List three jobs your hero would be terrible at, then write a scene in which she fakes her way through one of them.

> It's easy to pretend to be someone else online. Brainstorm three ways your hero could be catfished or otherwise deceived.




Everyone wears masks, but some characters go much further, pretending to be someone they're not.

Some deceptions are spontaneous and unplanned (pretending to like jazz), while others require extensive training (a deep-cover spy). Some characters forget who they really are.

The life of an inpostor is dangerous - every moment carries the risk of the ruse collapsin. What are the consequences of being discovered? Who gains from the life being revealed?




Happy Writing!


***John August designed these cards to help writers fix plot holes, spice up stock characters and
rethink your themes.  They, of course, do not guarantee you’ll get published or that you’ll become the next J.K. Rowling, and of course they are only a tool to help you think outside the box. I make no monetary gain with them nor do I expect anything in return.  I do not own the contents in these cards. If you're interested in them, here's the amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Writer-Emergency-Pack/dp/B00R6ZLIOY/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1502046610&sr=8-2&keywords=john+august 


28 May 2019

Check out the Playlist for "Saved by the Cyborg" from Jessica Coulter Smith!

Cy-Con #3 Playlist – Saved by the Cyborg

§  Let It Go (Metal Version) by Connor Engstrom
§  Basket Case by Green Day
§  Without Me by Halsey
§  Shallow by Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper
§  Broken by lovelytheband
§  Never Gonna Be Alone by Nickelback
§  M!ssundaztood by P!nk
§  The Show Must Go On by Queen and Elton John
§  Still Loving You by The Scorpions
§  A Million Dreams by P!nk
§  With You by Linkin Park
§  Paradise City by Tom Cruise (Rock of Ages Soundtrack)

ABOUT THE BOOK

He’s a monster -- a cybernetic freak feared by females. Until he finds her…

Intimidating. Damaged. Unlovable.

Tark wanted a mate even before he joined the Cy-Con program. His sheer size made females fear him, and now that he’s been turned into a cybernetic freak they avoid him even more. When he finds a female being held in a brothel against her will, he knows that he can’t leave without her.

Tark means to take Suki home to his world, a place where she can heal and start a new life. He never realized she’d want to start that life with him, or that she’d insist on leaving the safety of Xpashta in an effort to rescue others like herself.

Brave. Fearless. Pregnant?

Tark saved the alluring human female once. When she’s captured during a dangerous mission, he knows he’ll have to do it again, and this time, he’s not letting her out of his sight -- especially when he finds out she’s pregnant with his child.




SNEAK PEEK


“Why is it hard for you to believe I would want to be with you?” she asked.

“Females don’t want me,” he said after a few minutes. “They never have. Even whores have run from me in fear. I’ve never…”

He looked away, but Suki could tell he was embarrassed. Was he trying to say he was a virgin? She couldn’t believe it. How could anyone turn him away? Tark was kind and protective. And he’d been gentle with her. Despite his mechanical arm, he hadn’t harmed her, not once. He was always careful when he reached for her, or carried her. She didn’t understand why women didn’t beg for his attention. On Earth, she’d been independent for the most part, hadn’t felt she needed a man for anything. She’d had boyfriends, but none that lasted longer than a month. But being a slave had taught her that out here in space, far from the world she’d called home, she did need a male, as long as it was the right one. She’d been too weak to fight them off, too weak to save herself and her sister. The thought of someone big and strong offering protection was tempting.

Suki stood and placed her hand on his bicep. He was so strong, so… He made her feel safe, and that was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. If she could do anything, she wanted to make him realize that not all females feared him. She didn’t. If he claimed her as his mate, she would feel like the luckiest of women. She just didn’t know how to make Tark see that.

“I’m not running,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

He looked at her, his gaze holding hers. If he’d never been with a female, had he ever been kissed? Suki leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his. Tark froze, every muscle in his body tense. Suki moved her mouth against his, giving him the softest of kisses, until he began to relax. She pulled back and stared into his eyes. Tark looked stunned as he reached up and touched his lips.

“Do you want to do it again?” she asked. “You could kiss me this time, if you want.”

“Kiss you,” he repeated, staring at her lips.

“Yes.”

Tark’s gaze flicked up to hers then lowered to her mouth again. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. Suki placed her hand on the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Suki parted her lips and touched her tongue to his lips. Tark groaned and opened, letting her in. She kissed him slowly, deeply. And all too soon, he was pulling away. Suki clung to him, not ready for it to end just yet. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like that, and maybe she never had. Kissing Tark felt different, but in a very good way.


WHERE TO BUY










ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.
Find Jessica on Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / jessicacoultersmith.com.




26 May 2019

Blast from the Past Spotlight...Featuring Beth D. Carter's "Bleeding Love"


In the year 2112, civilization is in ruins.  The world has fallen from World War Three.  People live in designated cities.

Ares has one mission: to destroy the Overlords, the men who killed his family.  To accomplish this, he is ruthless. Unforgiving.

Faith has grown up in a convent.  She's heard how the world is like, but now she'll experience it first hand.  Saved by Ares, he will demand her utter submission as payment.





Q & A  


1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you?

I                 I had a pretty good idea what I wanted to write in this book. I wanted to do a Mad Max kind of book, so I just went all out with the desert and crazy bikers. Did I achieve a good book? I'm not sure. I think if I went back I would change some of it. 

        2.      What was your hardest scene to write in this book?
                  
               I would have to say it was the scene where Ares decides to be a judge for the person who stole. His punishment is cutting off the person's hand. I wanted to write a scene where it shows in the future there is no trial or jury. It's just judgement. Kinda like Judge Dredd.

3.   Since the publication, what would you say has improved in your writing?

       I would have to say I'm not as passive in my writing anymore. Writing is very organic, so you constantly learn the more you write, so I'm constantly trying to improve.


EXCERPT 

 
        “I want you on your knees,” he said, his voice harsh, full of torment.  His hands buried in her hair to yank her head back.  “I want you to wrap those pretty lips around my dick and suck me.  I want you to drink my cum.  Then I want to lick your creamy pussy until my face is covered in your juice.”

            Her lips parted as the crude words slammed into her brain.  How could they arouse her so much?  She may not know exactly what he meant, but she could guess and her body begged and ached at her vivid imagination.

            “Do you know what your pussy is?”

            She shook her head.  In the next instant, he ripped the sleeping gown Edna had given her and it fell from her body in tattered pieces.  The display of his strength brought an excited whimper to her lips.  Faith stood before him naked and he cupped her between her legs.

            “This is your pussy,” he said.  He pressed forward until two fingers ran up and down her slit.  “Your cunt.  My cunt.  It’ll only know the feel of my cock deep inside because I’m the only one allowed to fuck this pretty pink pussy.”

            His dirty words should have made her cringe, instead, it only amped up the burning need.  Ares found that little nub that ignited her blood and tapped it, causing her hips to buck in response.

            “I love how fucking responsive you are, Faith,” he muttered against her lips.  He gave her a light kiss.  “Now get on your knees, take my dick in your soft hands, and suck me into your mouth.”

WHERE TO BUY

https://www.evernightpublishing.com/bleeding-love-by-beth-d-carter/

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/533375

https://www.amazon.com/Bleeding-Love-Beth-D-Carter-ebook/dp/B00VH4TIDI/ref=sr_1_5?keywords=bleeding+love+beth+d.+carter&qid=1558826066&s=gateway&sr=8-5

24 May 2019

The Devil's Outlaws return!....Austin's Ward by Lynn Burke



Austin’s Ward
Devil’s Outlaws 3
Publisher: Changeling Press
World-Wide Release Date: May 24, 2019



He won’t stop until her safety is secured—even if it means his heart is lost in setting her free.


As the Devil's Outlaws Sergeant at Arms, Austin Butterbaugh has no intention of getting involved. A self-proclaimed bachelor for life, he endured a broken heart and refuses to suffer the same again. But the second Cadence Fraser crosses his path, with her long blonde hair and curves, she owns him. 


Sleeping with a senator didn’t offer Cadence the ticket to a better life she’d hoped for. Instead, she's on the run for her life, straight into a badass biker’s arms—as his ward, under the Outlaw’s protection. Although fire flares to life between them, and Austin satisfies her in ways she’d never known, fear has Cadence’s sights set on something more.


With the senator hell-bent on eliminating every trace of his indiscretions, bodies will fall in Austin's determination to protect Cadence. Failure won’t be tolerated, even if saving her could mean losing her forever. Her happiness is all that matters, but can Cadence fight past her fears to see a future with Austin before it's too late? 


*Warning: Contains adult content and graphic violence.




PURCHASE LINKS:

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/AUSTINSWARD

EXCERPT:


“Take the bed,” he said and closed himself in the bathroom—with the bottle of whiskey.

Eyeing his bed, I chewed on the inside of my lip. I glanced at the couch he’d vacated. It wasn’t nearly long or wide enough for his height and bulk.

“Shit.” I heaved a sigh and crawled under his comforter, burying my face in one of the two pillows. Perfume a la Austin flared heat up through my body, and I closed my eyes as the devil on my shoulder insisted scratching an itch never hurt anyone.

“The fuck it didn’t,” I muttered, punching the feather pillow and curling up on the bed’s edge, facing away from the bathroom door.

The shower turned on, and I imagined Austin using that bar of soap I’d had all over my body running down the bumps and valleys of muscle lining his. Did he grow hard while washing his cock? His balls?

I bit the inside of my lip, determined to keep my hands beneath his pillow.

Did he stroke his length, head tipped back, while thinking about me in his bed? I knew he wanted me—the sexual tension between us could have electrified the entire compound for a goddamn week.

A low groan snapped my eyelids open, and I held my breath, ears straining.

“Fuck.” The low, drawn-out curse coming from the bathroom pebbled my skin.

Did I imagine the fisting slaps of a hand wrapped around a cock? Did my ears deceive, allowing me to think one final muffled grunt shot cum from the swollen head of his dick?

Damnit.” I growled, my entire body like a live wire, ready to burn down my fucking life.

The water shut off, and again, I held my breath, ears ringing for sounds of his movement. Water ran again, and I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth—not that I had a spare toothbrush in my bag anyway.

A quick exhale into my cupped hand revealed I wouldn’t knock out a dragon, but still.

What did I care? I grumbled a bit more in my head, but the opening of the bathroom door stalled all thought.

Austin moved into the room, and I listened as he opened a cabinet and shut it. Unable to help myself, I shifted onto my back.

A towel slung low around his hips.

Goddamn, the muscles…

My mouth flooded with drool, and I bit back a moan as he turned. Rippled abs snagged my focus. The sexy as fuck V of muscle disappearing beneath the towel turned my mouth’s drool factory on maximum.

“Just going to grab my pillow,” he muttered, moving toward the bed, his low voice pebbling my skin again.

“There’s plenty of room in the bed,” I heard myself say, hating the breathless tone that escaped—and how the final word cut short on a squeak as I lifted my gaze to his face.

Quiet rang in my ears for a few heartbeats as we stared at one another, heat licking over my skin, flushing me from head to toe. The promise in his eyes of more than a mere fuck, in and out, thank you darlin’, sent a shudder through me.

Austin wouldn’t be kind or gentle in the sack. He seemed the type that would tie a girl up, use her to satisfy his every whim, and leave her a spent and smiling from exhaustion. My mouth dried, nipples pebbled to painful points.

“Couch is kind of small,” he said, tearing his gaze away first, his brow furrowing.

I tried to swallow the dryness from my throat as the tension simmering between us intensified, crackling with energy enough the hairs on my arms rose.

“You’re very alert and cautious,” I said, desperate to get my mind off fucking and how good every inch of him would feel pressing me down into his mattress.

He grunted in agreement, hands fisting at his sides, but didn’t move otherwise.

I remembered how his gaze had scanned the strip joint’s parking lot before we’d left, the glimpses he’d tossed from mirror to mirror as the miles had faded behind us, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and had ended up with my head against his truck’s passenger window.

“What made you that way?” I asked, needing to fill the silence, needing to end the sexually charged atmosphere choking me.

“Long fucking story that’s none of your business.”

Grumpy much? At least his abrupt words eased the unbearable ache between my thighs. “Is your name really Austin?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your last name?”

He hesitated a moment before answering. “Butterbaugh.”

The name didn’t match his badass biker sexiness one bit, and I found myself wanting to giggle. “Are you really from Texas?” I asked what Hannah had already told me.

“Yes.”

I nibbled on the inside of my lip again, unable to help from ogling his massive chest as he studied the apartment around us as though desperate to keep from looking at me in his bed. “What brought you to D.C.?”

“Another long fucking story.”

I frowned at his disinterest in elaborating. “Are you always this closed off?”

“Are you always this nosey?”

I huffed and considered turning away, but he dropped the goddamn towel and slid under the comforter before I could move.

Blinking didn’t erase the image of his semi-hard cock hanging low between his thighs I’d caught a quick glimpse of. So much for the desert mouth. Drool flooded, and I swallowed. “You could at least put on some boxers,” I managed to croak as if I had zero desire to have his naked ass in bed with me.

“I don’t wear underwear.”

Lovely. The thought boiled my blood—and also pissed me the hell off. I didn’t want to be turned on by the mountain of a man whose care I’d been placed under. I didn’t want to be all wet, warm, and willing for his huge cock to plunder all three holes of my body.

Scratching the itch won’t hurt. I scowled at the ceiling at the devil’s voice in my ear.

“Close your eyes and sleep, Cadence. You’re safe.”

Safe. I held in my snort. Perhaps safe from the senator for the time being, but certainly not from my libido.



© Lynn Burke 2018



 Other Titles in this Series:




ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

 Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.






23 May 2019

The Evernighties Blog Challenge Week 21

The Best Gift I Ever Got

Wow, what a broad subject I could write about.

Undoubtedly, my best gift was my son. I was truly blessed with a warm, caring, talented kid. He has Asperger's, which gives him many challenges. He's taught me so much, from patience to understanding, and there is nothing I would change about him. I am deeply humbled and awed by him every day and I am so lucky that I got to have him for my son.

As for a non-parental gift, I have received so many wonderful things in my life it's hard to pinpoint one thing, but I'm going to stick with the past four years of my life. That's when my best friend and soul mate came into the picture. I had been in an emotionally dead relationship, staying for the sake of my son, but I found the courage to finally end it. After some soul searching, I wrote down everything I was looking for in a partner and left it up to the universe. I have always believed in true love, I mean, I write romance novels with happy ever after, so to leave it all to chance that I may never find mine, was a bit scary.

A friend of mine convinced me to try online dating sites, because she had luck there. I was very hesitant because come on...there's nothing but trouble on the internet, right? But to her urging, I went online and had a few dates with men. They were pleasant and not at all serial killers, but one man and I began talking to each other, and everything he was presenting met my universal letter. So I agreed to meet him in public, and as soon as I met him, it was like a million flashlights going off. The last puzzle piece fell into place. I just knew this man was my soul mate.

Last year he gave me a gift of an engagement ring, and two weeks ago I married him. He's given me so many wonderful gifts, but the best was his heart.


**Make sure to check out the other Evernightie blogs!

22 May 2019

Writer's Block Exercise - Week 20

Got Writer’s Block?

Yeah, it happens to the best of us.  Life gets in the way and your brain is taken in another direction and before you know it, it’s been days or weeks since you last looked at that book you’re trying to write.  You’ve forgotten little details.  What eye color did you give your hero?  What town was your heroine born in?  Perhaps you need to jumpstart your creative mojo, and that's what this series is designed for. Not to explain writer's block, but to help you move in a different direction.

I bet reading the title of this exercise put the theme song, The Raider's March, in your head. I know it did for me! The first movie came out when I was a young, impressionable girl and for years after, I wanted to be Indy. I already loved history, so why not be an archeologist? I even had a whip.

As I got older, writing became my passion. But it's not just Indy I go and refer to when I'm thinking out story plots. Depending on what genre I'm writing, I'll think about characters in either a TV show, a movie, or even other books. One series I loved was Xena, so what would Xena have done with this duplicitous asshole I've written?

Or the Charmed one?

Or Jessica Fletcher?

You can substitute Indy for any genre, but the message is the same. If you're stuck, try putting yourself in the character's shoes...what would you do? It's easy to write your hero or heroine into a corner, but much harder to write them out of it. The easy path is to rewrite and not even face that corner, but you can't flinch as a writer. Stretch the imagination, even if you have to turn to Indiana Jones to figure out how to get free.




#20 What would Indy Do?

The best heroes surprise us by taking actions we never saw coming.



>Who are your hero’s Henry, Sallah and Marion? Brainstorm three relationships from
your hero’s past, and how they could impact your story.

> Remember the poisoned dates. List four things in your hero’s world that might be poisoned (literally or metaphorically). How might your hero discover it?

> Find your Satipo. Is there an ally who can betray your hero?

>Everyone has a snake. What is your hero’s greatest phobia?



Some heroes surprise us by taking bold actions. They bring guns to sword fights. They chase tanks on horseback. They cut the rope bridge.

Imagine the stakes are life-or-death. How would your hero get that memo from a locked office if the building were collapsing? What would the condo co-op meeting be life if it were happening on a falling blimp?

Don’t let expectation box your hero in. Give him a whip, and let him start cracking.





Happy Writing!



***John August designed these cards to help writers fix plot holes, spice up stock characters and
rethink your themes.  They, of course, do not guarantee you’ll get published or that you’ll become the next J.K. Rowling, and of course they are only a tool to help you think outside the box. I make no monetary gain with them nor do I expect anything in return.  I do not own the contents in these cards. If you're interested in them, here's the amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Writer-Emergency-Pack/dp/B00R6ZLIOY/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1502046610&sr=8-2&keywords=john+august 


20 May 2019

New Release by Rue Allyn!

The hero of Rue Allyn’s A Wish for All Seasons, Caibre MacFearann, left Scotland and love behind believing he would never return. However, one small ring changes everything.
Forever Hold My Heart MediaKit
ISBN:  978-1-7335907-1-6


The past keeps Caibre and Aisla apart. Only Love and forgiveness can give them a future.

Losing Caibre MacFearann’s love once hurt so much that Aisla MacKai wants nothing to do with him when a blizzard brings the man to her doorstep. Kindness and human charity require that she give him shelter, no matter that her poor heart had never mended.

The last thing Caibre MacFearann wants is to return to Scotland let alone be forced to stay there. But the chance to rekindle the lost love of his youth is too tempting to resist. However, Aisla MacKai refuses to listen until her clan’s fate and a royal decree force Aisla to give him a chance.

Heat Rating: PG, PG-13/R


Excerpt



     She tasted like the dawn of a Wyoming summer day, a crisp freshness that filled his head and body with joy combined with a dark smokiness that squeezed his heart at the same time it wrapped him in the comfort of knowing he’d found his true home.

     He gathered her in his arms and lifted her against his chest. One hand cradled her head, stroking her silken midnight tresses as he swept kisses across her face and nibbled at her neck. His other hand cupped her bottom, supporting her and torturing himself in the best possible way. His palm burned, yearning for the touch of skin and her soft woman’s body.

     Her arms crept up his chest. Her fingers tangled in his hair and, she pulled his head back to her lips. Her sweet, smoky, tender lips. He could drown there and die happy. But his body insisted he go on living, give and take as much pleasure as possible. Where could they . . . ?

     “Harumph.”

     Caibre dropped Aisla to the floor but kept a steadying hold on her. He turned in a single movement to place her protectively behind him. Mrs. Grogan stood framed in the doorway, the cart before her loaded with tea things, the whisky decanter, and a single glass.

     “I’ll be telling the Baron what I’ve seen. Ye’ve ruined Miss Aisla, and ye’ll pay the price.” The housekeeper craned her neck to look past him. “Both of ye. For shame Miss     Aisla, and with a filthy MacFearann.” The old woman pushed the cart into the room, moved back from it, and folded her arms. “I’ll no be leaving her alone with the likes of ye.”

      Aisla stepped out from behind him. “Mrs. Grogan, please. It’s not what you think”

      Caibre repressed a smile at the sight of her mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips. No one would believe her.

      “Hmpf.” The housekeeper gave him a look full of menace. He’d seen kinder gazes in the eyes of gunmen determined to kill him.

     “You’ve no need to tell the baron anything, Mrs. Grogan,” Caibre said. “I’ll be speaking with him myself at the first opportunity.” He’d not been looking for a wife, and given their past, Aisla might not be the best choice. Honor required they marry; nothing else mattered. He’d do his best to make her happy whether they loved each other or not.

     “See that you do.”

     Aisla pulled on his arm, and he turned to her. “You’ll not talk to Steafan. Nor will you, Mrs. Grogan. I will take care of this as I have everything at Dungarob for years.”

  Her tone was fierce, but Caibre could see wild panic in her eyes. He wished he could soothe her anxiety but could do nothing until he spoke with Steafan MacKai. “Don’t worry.” He reached out to stroke her hair. “I’ll make everything right.”

  “There is nothing to be made right.” She squared her shoulders, banking the panic he’d seen.





The Hero

Caibre MacFearann left love and Scotland to seek his fortune in Wyoming Territory and never looked back. He rejects nobles oblige and ancient bloodlines, until family commitments call him to Scotland and a legendary sword returns him to his love.



                   The Heroine

Fiercely independent since her first breath, Aisla MacKai, is no pampered, English society miss. She learns quickly and works against all odds to save her clan. She is bold as the seas that surround her home and as determined as the rocks that stand fast against all invaders.