My
Highland Lover
Highland Hearts # 1
Highland Hearts # 1
By: Maeve Grayson
Releasing March 24th, 2015
Loveswept
Blurb
Maeve Greyson unleashes a thrilling tale
of magic and desire as a feisty Southern gal falls into the arms of a
rough-hewn Highland chieftain.
As
the proprietor of a homeopathic store in rural Kentucky, Trulie Sinclair knows
that her neighbors think she’s strange—but they have no idea how strange she
really is. Trulie was born in Scotland in the thirteenth century to a line of
time-traveling Highlanders. When Trulie’s grandmother convinces her to return
to their homeland, Trulie jumps back in time, right onto the powerful chest of
Gray MacKenna. Just as his steely good looks send ripples through her body,
their fierce attraction will send ripples through the ages.
After
his parents murdered, Gray is consumed by thoughts of revenge. As the new
chieftain of the MacKenna clan, he has reason to believe that there’s a traitor
in his midst, and nothing—not even the bonny lass who suddenly drops from the
sky—can distract him from his single-minded pursuit of the culprit. But when
Gray learns that this sassy beauty possesses gifts beyond the sparkle in her
eye, he allows his gaze, and his heart, to linger. While he hunts for the
murderer, Gray finds in Trulie a precious companion—and a timeless love.
EXCERPT
Granny snuggled closer to the cat and chuckled softly into its
shining black fur.
Trulie snorted. That pretty much cinched it. Granny was at it again.
Trulie whacked the flashlight against the back of the seat, shook it hard, then
shot the revealing beam out the back window.
Of
all things to come across in the middle of the night. Trulie
knelt in the seat and squinted out the window. “I don’t see him anywhere.
Surely I didn’t knock him clear across the road into the other ditch.”
Trulie clicked off the flashlight and sat back on her heels. There
was no getting around it. Sword or no sword, she was going to have to go look
for him. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t find out whether or not
the man was okay. Trulie shot a sideways glance at the chuckling woman still
muttering to the cat. “And I wasn’t driving that fast and you know it.”
Granny didn’t look up, just snuggled back against her travel pillow
and grinned.
“What do you think, Kismet?” Granny wrinkled her nose down at the
cat as she rubbed a bent finger under its chin. The purring feline sat with
eyes half-closed into golden slits and the tip of her dark tail softly
flipping. “Reckon we’d be sittin’ in this ditch with all our inventory busted
in the back of the truck if Trulie had been goin’ a bit slower?”
Granny glanced up from the cat’s smug face. Her smile curled to one
side as she continued in a more soothing voice directed toward Trulie. “And no.
You didn’t hit him. You just got his attention real good.”
Trulie yanked the rusty door handle upward and bounced the door
open. Somehow, that backhanded reassurance didn’t make her feel any better. An
eerie feeling skittered up her spine. What if the man was one of them? Trulie
rolled away the uneasiness with a tensed shrug. Nah. Couldn’t be. Rule
number one of the time runner’s rede: time runners were always female. Trulie
silently ticked off the other tenets of the ancient folklore inherited by the
Sinclairs:
Bloodline holds the gift to dance across the ages.
From mother to daughter the gift shall pass.
The eldest daughter of each generation shall control the most
power.
A loyal familiar, a guardian, shall join the eldest daughter at
birth and ne’er leave her side.
Males shall only travel the web when chosen or sent forth by a
runner.
The last tenet struck a chord. Trulie turned and glared at Granny.
What the hell had the conniving old woman done this time?
Granny ignored Trulie, just shook her head in the contented black
cat’s face and bent closer to whisper something in its ear. The cat looked over
at Trulie, flipped the end of its tail harder, and somehow seemed to snicker.
“Don’t start with me, Kismet.” Trulie hopped out of the truck and
landed knee deep in mud and wet leaves. Cold water rushed in over the tops of
her rubber boots and soaked down into her socks. Trulie bit the inside of her
cheek to keep from cursing. Great. Soaking wet feet. “Granny,
would you please stop plotting with your damn cat? I know you know more than
you’re telling. You’ve got that look that always means trouble.”
“Why, Trulie. I can’t believe you’d say such a thing.” Granny
snorted an insulted huff and straightened in the seat. Her voice echoed with
authority as she lowered the much calmer cat onto the seat beside her. “Trust
me. You’ve nothing to worry about. I know those colors. He comes from a fine,
upstanding clan. You won’t find a force on earth capable of striking fear into
a MacKenna.”
A
fine upstanding clan. A MacKenna.
That was all the proof Trulie needed. No wonder Granny wasn’t upset. The
conniving old woman orchestrated the entire thing. How many times had she
begged Granny to stop meddling?
Author Info
No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to
them. That’s been Maeve Greyson’s mantra since she was a girl. When she’s not
at the full time day job at the steel mill, Maeve’s writing romances about sexy
Highlanders and the women who tame them. Tucked away in a five acre wood, Maeve
listens to the wind singing through the trees and hears her characters telling
their stories. Her work is proofed by her sharp-eyed dog, Jasper, and her greatest
supporter is her long suffering husband of over thirty-five years who’s learned
not to throw away any odd sticky notes filled with strange phrases.
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