Spotlight: Beautiful Rivers Series by Jordyn White

Beautiful Mine
Jordyn White
(Beautiful Rivers, #1)
Publication date: September 10th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

When fellow Californians Whitney Spencer and Connor Rivers meet in the most unlikely of places—on the Camino pilgrimage in Spain—they fall head first into a brief, impassioned love affair. But Whitney’s on her way back to her career in San Francisco, and Connor is a world traveler whose restless spirit has yet to be captured by anyone.

Tragedy strikes and Connor is called home to help his siblings run the family business, the Rivers Paradise Resort. Yet the adventurer inside him hasn’t gone away; in fact, his wanderlust is on the verge of destroying his family’s fragile stability.

After Whitney’s career brings her to Connor’s resort, the sparks between them flare. Will her reappearance be enough to tame him? Can their love be enough, or are they destined for another gut-wrenching goodbye?

The Beautiful Rivers Series:

Goodreads / Amazon

I’m waiting for the elevator, wondering if I should ask the front desk for restaurant suggestions or just find a place on my own. Then the doors open to reveal someone standing inside.

My lips part in surprise. Connor does a double take, then gives me a slow, slow smile.

Umm…. okay. This is a whole new ballgame now.

“We meet again,” he says, still smiling. My estrogen starts flowing at the sight of that smile and those eyes. I couldn’t stop it now if I tried.
“Hello again.” I step into the elevator. He looks—and smells—freshly bathed as well and I have a sudden vision of him naked in a tub. God. Between that and the fact that there’s apparently no escaping this guy, I completely forget why I was trying to escape him to start with.

The doors slide closed with a soft thud and the little space grows even smaller. I don’t stand too close, but I certainly would’ve stood farther away if I’d never met him before. The car begins its downward journey and my stomach swoops more than usual.

We start giving each other that wondering look from before. He’s still smiling, and there’s a smile teasing the corners of my mouth too. In spite of being freshly bathed, he didn’t shave. He still has that cute scruff on his jaw.

“You’re staying here, too?” I ask.

He turns toward me a bit and leans one shoulder against the back wall. Oh man. Just like when he turned toward me at the table, this little movement makes things feel more familiar. But this time it’s just us. In this little box. I like it. “I heard this is the best place for the weary Camino pilgrim.”

I adjust slightly so I can lean against the wall as well. I really can’t help it. Because it seems like this is the moment we’ve been building to all along. “That’s what the guidebooks say anyway.”

“Do they?”

“Don’t you have a guidebook?” The car already starts to slow, dammit. I don’t want to walk away this time. I want to linger awhile.

“I’m not the guidebook type,” he answers, as we come to a stop. “I’d rather just ask around. But I think we have more important matters to discuss.”

The elevator dings and the doors open. Neither one of us moves. My heart is thumping in anticipation. “Do we?”

“Yes. You’re about to go your way and I’m about to go mine, but clearly the universe thinks we need to talk some more.”

Thump, thump, thump. Now it’s my turn to give a slow smile. “The universe, huh?”

“Okay.” He grins. “It’s me. I think we should talk more.”


Author Bio:

Jordyn White writes steamy romances featuring smart, sexy women and the swoon-worthy men who adore them. Her sexy love stories are full of passion but don’t skimp on the tenderness. She’s addicted to trendy coffee houses, poolside lounging, and HEAs. When not tapping blissfully away on her laptop, she takes time to enjoy life with her husband and their children.

Website / Amazon / Facebook Author Page / Facebook Fan Group


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Visit Jordyn White’s Facebook page for details on how to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card and signed copies of Forbidden Heat and Beautiful Mine. Facebook Author Page: http://bit.ly/JLWFBpg

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Spotlight: One Summer Night by Caridad Pineiro

An offer that’s impossible to accept…
 
Maggie Sinclair has tried everything to save her family’s business, including mortgaging their beloved beach house on the Jersey shore. But now, she’s out of options.
 
The Sinclair and Pierce families have been neighbors and enemies for almost thirty years. That hasn’t stopped Owen Pierce from crushing on Maggie, and he’s determined to invest in her success. Now he has to convince her that he’s more than just trouble with a capital T…

Excerpt

Sea Kiss, New Jersey

Tracy Parker was in love with being in love.

That worried her best friend and maid of honor, Maggie Sinclair, more than she cared to admit.

In the middle of the temporary dance floor, Tracy waltzed with her new husband in a satin-and-lace designer gown, gleaming with seed pearls and twinkling sequins. But the sparkle dimmed in comparison to the dreamy glow in Tracy’s eyes.

The sounds of wedding music competed with the gentle rustle of seagrass in the dunes and the crash of the waves down on the beach. The fragrance from centerpiece flowers and bouquets battled with the kiss of fresh sea air.

Connie and Emma, Tracy’s two other best friends and members of the bridal party, were standing beside Maggie on the edge of the dance floor that had been set up on the great lawn of Maggie’s family’s beachfront mansion on the Jersey Shore. Huddled together, Maggie and her friends watched the happy couple do a final whirl.

“She’s got it so bad,” Maggie said, eyeing Connie and Emma with concern past the rim of her rapidly dis- appearing glass of champagne.

“Do you think that this time he really is The One?” Connie asked.

“Doubt it,” Emma replied without hesitation.

As the DJ requested that other couples join the happy newlyweds, Maggie and her friends returned to the bridal party dais set out on the patio. Grabbing another glass of champagne, Maggie craned her neck around the gigantic centerpiece piled with an almost obscene mound of white roses, ice-blue hydrangea, lisianthus, sheer tulle, and twinkling fairy lights and examined the assorted guests mingling around the great lawn and down by the boardwalk leading to the beach.

She recognized Tracy’s family from their various meetings over the years, as well as some of Tracy’s sorority sisters, like Toni Van Houten, who in the six years since graduation had managed to pop out a trio of boys who now circled her like sharks around a swim- mer. Although the wedding invite had indicated No Children, Toni had done as she pleased. Since Tracy had not wanted a scene at her dream beachfront wed- ding, Emma, who was doing double duty as the wedding planner for the event, had scrambled to find space for the children at the dinner tables.

“Is that Toni ‘I’ll never ruin my body with babies’ Toni?” Connie asked, a perplexed look on her features. At Maggie’s nod, Connie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she said, “She looks…happy.”

A cynical laugh erupted from Emma. “She looks crazed.”

Maggie couldn’t argue with either of their assessments. But as put-upon as their old acquaintance seemed, the indulgent smile she gave her youngest child was positively radiant.

Maggie skipped her gaze across the gathering to take note of all the other married folk. It was easy enough to pick them out from her vantage point on the dais, where she and her friends sat on display like days’ old cakes in the bakery. They were the last three unmarried women in an extended circle of business and college acquaintances.

“How many times do you suppose we’ve been bridesmaids now?” Maggie wondered aloud. She finished off her glass and motioned for the waiter to bring another.

“Jointly or severally?” asked Connie, ever the lawyer. “Way too many,” replied Emma, who, for a wedding planner, was the most ardent disbeliever in the possibility of happily ever afters.

Maggie hadn’t given marriage a first thought, much less a second, in a very long time. She’d had too many things going on in her life. Not that there hadn’t been a few memorable moments, most of which revolved around the absolutely worst man for her: Owen Pierce.

But for years now, she’d been dealing with her family’s business and its money problems, which had spilled over into her personal finances. As she gazed at the beauty of the manicured grounds and then back toward her family’s summer home, it occurred to her that this might be the last time she hosted a celebration like this here. She had mortgaged the property that she had inherited to funnel money into the family’s struggling retail store division.

Unfortunately, thanks to her father’s stubborn refusal to make changes to help the business, she spent way too much time at work, which left little time for romance. Not to mention that none of her casual dates had piqued her interest in that direction. Looking down from her perch, however, and seeing the happiness on so many faces suddenly had her reconsidering the merits of married life.

“Always a bridesmaid and never a bride,” she muttered, surprising herself with the hint of wistfulness in her tone.

“That’s because the three of us are all too busy working to search for Prince Charming,” Connie said, her defense as swift and impassioned as if she were arguing a case in court.

“Who even believes in that fairy-tale crap?” Emma’s gaze grew distracted, and she rose from her chair. “Excuse me for a moment. Carlo needs to see me about something.”

Emma rushed off to the side of the dance floor, where her caterer extraordinaire, Carlo Teixeira, raked a hand through his thick, brown hair in clear frustration. He wore a pristine white chef’s jacket and pants that enhanced his dark good looks.

Emma laid a hand on Carlo’s forearm and leaned close to speak to him, apparently trying to resolve a problem.

“She doesn’t believe in fairy tales, but her Prince Charming is standing right in front of her,” Connie said with a sad shake of her head.

Maggie took another sip of her champagne and viewed the interaction between Carlo and Emma. Definitely major sparkage going on, she thought.

“You’re totally right,” she said with an assertive nod. Connie smiled like the proverbial cat, her exotic green-gold eyes gleaming with mischief. “That’s why you hired me to represent your company as soon as I finished law school. Nothing gets past me.”

“Really? So what else do you think you’ve seen tonight?”

Raising her glass, her friend gestured toward the right of the mansion’s great lawn, where some of the frater- nity brothers from their alma mater had gathered. One of the men slowly turned to sneak a peek at them.

“Owen has been watching you all night long,” Connie said with a shrewd smile.

“Totally impossible, and you of all people should know it. Owen Pierce has absolutely no interest in me.” She set her glass on the table to hide the nervous tremble of her hand as her gaze connected with his for the briefest of moments. Even that fleeting link was enough to raise her core temperature a few degrees. But what woman wouldn’t respond like that?

In his designer tuxedo, Owen was the epitome of male perfection—raven-black hair, a sexy gleam in his charcoal-gray eyes, broad shoulders, and not an ounce of fat on him, which made her recall seeing him in much, much less on a hot summer night on Sea Kiss Beach. She had been staying in the quaint seaside town on the Jersey Shore with her grandmother that summer, much as she had all her life. As they also had for so many years, the Pierce boys had been residing next door for the entire season.

The two beachfront mansions had been built side by side decades earlier, before the start of the Pierce and Sinclair rift. The cost of waterfront real estate had esca- lated so drastically since their construction that neither family was willing to sell their beloved home to put some distance between the warring clans.

Well, make that the warring fathers, because as far as Maggie was concerned, she had no beef with Owen.

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Spotlight: The Heiress by Cassia Leo

A new heartfelt and suspenseful stand-alone novel from New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo.

 How much is love worth?

 Twenty-two-year-old Kristin and her single mom have always struggled to make ends meet. When her mother’s body begins to deteriorate after many backbreaking years of working as a housekeeper, Kristin must say farewell to her college dreams and hello to a full-time job waitressing. She doesn’t really mind. After all, giving up on her dreams will be her penance for that one horrible night. 

 Her luck begins to turn when she meets Daniel Meyers. Daniel is sexy and funny, but most importantly, he wants to get to know the real Kristin. It doesn’t hurt that he’s also extremely wealthy and intent on protecting her. Kristin feels safe with him. She wants to open up to him, to share the details of the awful night that changed her life. But she can’t shake the feeling that Daniel may be keeping a dark secret of his own…

Excerpt

Chapter 10

He kept his hand on my back, gently leading me through the dimly lit parking garage. I glanced up at him a few times, hoping to meet his gaze for some indication as to what he was thinking, but his eyes were focused everywhere but me. He seemed to be scanning our surroundings, almost as if he were assessing the building for possible threats. Finally, when we were just a few cars away from Daniel’s Range Rover, he looked down at me with a look I could only describe as pure conflict.

I didn’t know him well, but I considered myself a bit of an expert in human emotion.

In my attempt to become a better artist, I’d read at least a dozen books and completed at least a thousand art studies solely on the subject of facial expressions and body language. If I had to sculpt Daniel’s face in this moment, then explain to someone what he was thinking, I would say he was trying to decide between two courses of action: Should he 1) take me home and leave me at my door with a stiff peck on the cheek, or 2) push me up against one of these cars and fuck me right here?

A difficult decision, no doubt.

My mind worried I wasn’t being cautious enough with Daniel. My mind voted for option number one. The pulsing ache between my legs and my racing heart meant my body was campaigning very hard for option number two.

As we arrived at the passenger door of the Range Rover, it seemed Daniel’s body was going to throw in his vote with mine. He was eye-fucking the shit out of me. He sidled up to the door, effectively blocking me from reaching for the handle.

I looked up at him, my gaze landing on his full lips, then glancing at his hands, and back to his lips, sending him a less-than-subliminal message to slide those strong hands under my skirt.

His eyes were locked on my mouth. As his hand found my waist, I closed my eyes and held my breath in anticipation. A long, torturous moment passed before, just as I had hoped, the weight of his body leaned into mine. With one hand on my waist, he pressed me up against the side of the SUV as his other hand came up to cradle my face. Then, his mouth found mine, delivering a slow, tender kiss.

His kiss felt downright pornographic. It was straight-up mouth sex, to the point that I could physically feel him moving in and out of me despite the fact that we were fully clothed.

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About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book.

Connect: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Website

Read an exclusive excerpt from Running Into Love by Aurora Rose Reynolds

Fawn Callaghan has kissed one too many toads and has finally decided that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. After countless mishaps, mistakes, and unmitigated disasters on the dating scene, she’s decided to give up and move on with her life…solo.

Everything changes, however, after Fawn runs into Levi Fremont, a homicide detective new to New York City.

Dedication to the job has rendered Levi’s love life nonexistent—until he moves in next door to the free-spirited Fawn. After a series of comedic run-ins push them together, will they finally give in to the inevitable and realize—maybe—they are perfect for each other?

Exclusive Excerpt

“Coming,” I yell when someone starts pounding on my door. Pushing myself up off the couch, I head across the room, knowing who it is without even looking through the peephole. Putting my hand on Muffin’s head to hold her back, I look down at her. “Be nice,” I command, and she huffs, taking a seat. She doesn’t like men at all. One of my boyfriends was cornered in the kitchen when he got up to get some water in the middle of the night. I found him there the next day asleep on top of the counter. After that he refused to come over, which in turn ended our relationship, since there was no way I was going to get busy with him at his place while his mom was in the next room.
 
I swing the door open, taking in my new neighbor, who looks like he’s had a shower in the last ten minutes. “Can I help you?” His hair is still damp on the ends, and he smells like soap and some kind of dark, intriguing cologne. I can’t help but notice he’s just as hot in a white tee, almost-black jeans, and black boots as he was shirtless and sweaty.
 
“Did you even check the damn peephole?” he barks, and my eyes fly up to meet his.
 
The corners of his eyes have small lines forming around them, and I wonder if I should tell him something my mom always tells me. “Honey, stop frowning. You know it causes premature wrinkling. You don’t want to look like your aunt Lizbeth, do you?”
 
“I knew it was you.” I shrug, leaving out the information about wrinkles, figuring he probably wouldn’t care.
 
“How?”
 
“How what?”
 
“How did you know it was me?”
 
“For starters, no one I know would ever pound on the door like they’re the police. Secondly, I’m not expecting any company, so I risked it all and took a wild guess. Are you here to return my headphones?” I ask, holding out my hand toward him.
 
“What the hell is that thing?” he asks as his eyes drop to Muffin, who is trying to push past me to get to him.
 
“It’s a chicken. Now do you have my headphones or not?”
 
“Are you always a pain in the ass?”
 
“Are you always an ass?” He shakes his head, dropping the headphones into my open palm. “Thanks.” I smile as he runs a hand over his head, looking at me, then looking around. “Did you need something else? Flour, sugar, my firstborn child?”
 
“You are so strange,” he informs me as his eyes roam down my chest and stomach, causing my skin to tingle, my stomach to dip, and me to realize that I’m still shirtless.
 
“Thanks.” I smile—or try to—before my dog shoves me out of the way. “Muffin, no!” I cry as she runs right past my new neighbor, across the hall, and into his apartment. Running after her through his open door, I find Muffin sprawled out on his couch like it already belongs to her.
 
“Muffin, come here,” I growl pointing to the floor at my feet. Her head lifts for a second before she lowers it back down and closes her eyes. “Muffin, do you want a treat?” I ask, and she opens one eye but still doesn’t move.
 
“She’s very well trained,” my new neighbor chuckles as my face heats.
 
“I’m really sorry about this,” I say, trying to hide my now scarlet face.
 
“Levi.”
 
“Pardon?” I ask turning my head toward him.
 
“My name’s Levi.”
 
“Oh.” I mutter, thinking Mr. Hot Shirtless Guy fits him better, but I guess Levi is okay, too.
 
“And this would be the time you tell me your name.” He raises one brow expectantly.
 
“Fawn,” I say under my breath.
 
“What?” He frowns, moving closer.
 
“My name’s Fawn—like a baby deer.” I sigh, hating that my parents named me after an animal that has a history of getting hit by cars or shot by hunters.
 
“Fawn,” he rumbles while his eyes slide over me once more, making me suddenly aware of how close we are and how very attracted I am to him when I totally shouldn’t be. I know men like him, and I know they always lead to one thing—heartache. 

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About the Author

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, and Underground Kings.

Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.

For more information on Reynolds’s latest books or to connect with her, contact her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AuthorAuroraRoseReynolds, on Twitter @Auroraroser, or via e-mail at Auroraroser@gmail.com.

Read an exclusive excerpt from Her Last Goodbye by Melinda Leigh

Young mother Chelsea Clark leaves the house for a girls’ night out…and vanishes. Her family knows she would never voluntarily leave her two small children. Her desperate husband—also the prime suspect—hires Morgan to find his wife and prove his innocence.

As a single mother, Morgan sympathizes with Chelsea’s family and is determined to find her. She teams up with private investigator Lance Kruger. But the deeper they dig, the deadlier their investigation gets. When Morgan is stalked by a violent predator, everything—and everyone—she holds dear is in grave danger.

Now, Morgan must track down a deranged criminal to protect her own family…but she won’t need to leave home to find him. She’s his next target.

Exclusive Excerpt

Morgan!
 
Lance dug his feet into the grass and sprinted toward the man who held Morgan by the neck. She twitched like a rag doll, rising onto her toes. His vision tunneled down to the two bodies on the stoop. Fury added fuel to his legs.
 
If Tyler Green hurt her . . .
 
He watched as Morgan raised one arm over her head and spun in a quarter turn. She windmilled her arm forward and used the inside of her shoulder to break Tyler’s grip on her neck. Then she drove the back of her elbow into his face. His head snapped back. Blood spurted. His hands went to cup his mouth and nose just as Lance hit him with a midbody tackle.
 
Lance and Tyler rolled in a tangle of limbs on the front lawn, coming to a stop with Lance on top. Flat on his back on the ground, Tyler swung out with a wild and weak punch. Lance swatted the fist out of the way like he would a gnat.
 
In the end, there wasn’t much of a struggle. Tyler acted tough when he was attacking women but didn’t know what to do with an opponent his own size. He was also bleeding profusely, and Lance wasn’t at all ashamed to enjoy the sight. Tyler was a bully and a coward.
 
Lance rolled Tyler onto his face, pulled his arms behind him, and planted a knee in the small of his back.
 
Leaning close to the deadbeat’s head, Lance said, “You wife beaters have one thing in common. You can’t fight someone who fights back.”
 
“Bitches all stick together,” Tyler spat over his shoulder.
 
“She kicked your ass.” Lance glanced at Morgan. “Nice shot.”
 
Morgan was on her knees, one hand on her neck; the other held her cell phone. Lance assumed she was calling 911. After giving the dispatcher the address, she slid the phone back into her pocket, sat on her heels, and wheezed,
 
“The police are on the way.”
 
“Get off me,” Tyler screamed into the grass.
 
Lance shook his head and shifted a little more weight onto his knee. The air—and the fight—went out of Tyler like a deflated tire.
 
“You just assaulted a lawyer, dumbass,” Lance said. “She’s going to put your sorry butt in jail.”
 
With Tyler immobilized, Lance turned to Morgan. “Are you all right?”
 
She rubbed the base of her neck and swallowed. “Yes.”
 
“You sure handled him.” Lance massaged the achy spot on his thigh where a bullet had ended his police career the year before. The wound had healed as well as it was going to, but his sudden sprint had pulled at the scar tissue.
 
Morgan climbed to her feet and brushed off her knees.
 
Five minutes later, a sheriff’s department cruiser arrived, and a deputy got out. Scarlet Falls was a small town. Its modest police force frequently relied on the county sheriff or state police for backup.
 
She showed the deputy the legal paperwork and summarized the incident.
 
The deputy handcuffed Tyler and hauled him to his feet. Blood smeared his face and soaked the front of his white T-shirt. The deputy loaded Tyler into the back of the cruiser and took brief statements from Lance and Morgan.
 
“I’ll need you to sign formal statements.” He nodded at Morgan. “I’ll want pictures of those bruises too, but first I need to take him to the ER.”
 
The deputy drove off.
 
Lance was quiet as they went back to the Jeep, but the residue of anger and worry rolled through his body as he steered her to the vehicle and opened the passenger door.
 
Turning to face him, she placed a palm in the center of his chest. “I’m all right, Lance.”
 
He lifted her chin and swept her hair aside to examine her neck. “I’m sure you’re hurting worse than you’ll admit.”
 
Red patches were already forming on her pale skin.
 
“Bruises heal,” she said.
 
“That doesn’t mean I like to see them on your lovely neck.” As long as they worked together, Lance was going to want to protect her. Though she was tall, a slim frame and delicate features made her look almost dainty. Even with her attempt to dress casually, she was perfectly feminine, with little glittery earrings and black hair that shone like a shampoo model’s.
 
But he’d keep his inner guard dog on a tight leash. She was no helpless female, even if her ability to defend herself always took him by surprise.
 
As did the ache in his heart every time he laid eyes on her. What he felt for her, even in this fragile, early stage of their relationship, floored him. They’d only shared a few—albeit scorching—kisses. But he couldn’t deny his attraction went far beyond the physical.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Melinda Leigh abandoned her career in banking to raise her kids and never looked back. She started writing as a hobby and became addicted to creating characters and stories. Since then, she has won numerous writing awards for her paranormal romance and romantic-suspense fiction. Her debut novel, She Can Run, was a number one bestseller in Kindle Romantic Suspense, a 2011 Best Book Finalist (The Romance Reviews), and a nominee for the 2012 International Thriller Award for Best First Book. She is the author of the Midnight Novels, including Midnight Exposure (a finalist for the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense) and Midnight Sacrifice.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Spotlight: Highland Promise by Alyson McLayne

Letter to the Reader

Hello Lovely Readers!! 

My name is Alyson McLayne, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to introduce you to my book, HIGHLAND PROMISE, a Scottish Highlander Romantic Adventure! 

It’s the first book in my historical romance series, THE SONS OF GREGOR MACLEOD, starring five Highland Lairds, who were fostered together as lads to become brothers. Darach, Lachlan, Callum, Gavin, and Kerr fight for their clans, for each other, and for their own true love.

These Highland Lairds are a band of brothers, who will defend each other to the death—if they don’t kill each other first with their sharp wit and hilarious banter. They take their oaths seriously, whether it’s to bring peace to the Highlands and defend one another as friends and allies, or to razz each other so hard, only one brother is left standing—and then they’ll take him down too.

And the women they love? They have spirit, and tenacity, and they take care of others before they take care of themselves. They’re all different—their backgrounds, their struggles, their interests and talents—but at the core of each woman is a strength, compassion, and a capacity to love that brings their man to his knees. 

Totally. Slayed.

Before I tell you about HIGHLAND PROMISE, here’s a little about me.  I live on the west coast of Canada with my adorable (aka annoying) 5 year old boy/girl twins; my sweet yet sarcastic husband (who just said he’s not sarcastic at all, he’s ironic!); my counter-surfing puppy, Jasper, who turns one year old the same day HIGHLAND PROMISE debuts (Happy Birthday, baby!!); and my 86 year old dad who gets a look on his face every time it’s mentioned there are—gasp—sex scenes in my books…but then goes on to tell me young people (meaning me) did not invent sex.

Ears…burning…must pour…hot oil…inside…

Speaking of ears, as I’m writing this, I have ear plugs in because my son is beside me in my office (aka my bedroom) building a fort under the covers on the bed, while my Slytherin-declaring daughter waits to knock it down, which results in WW3; Jasper hovers at the edge, barking, until he can’t stand it anymore and jumps onto the bed with the monsters, er, I mean children; my husband comes in and says something “ironic” about the chaos; and I stare fiercely at my computer screen determined to ignore it ALL—and thanking God my dad can turn his hearing aids OFF. 

Just grist for the mill…grist for the mill…said all writer-moms everywhere.

    Okay. Onto the important part: HIGHLAND PROMISE! I started writing HIGHLAND PROMISE almost 10 years ago after reading ALL of Julie Garwood’s medieval-set historicals, most of which were set in the Highlands. I LOVED them. I don’t read a lot of books over and over, but I did hers. I found them completely captivating.

    I think HIGHLAND PROMISE captures that same tone and spirit: Caitlin MacInnes is the archetypal Waif/Free Spirit who turns the archetypal Chieftain, Laird Darach MacKenzie’s life upside down—and then spins it around and dribbles with it for a while. As Lachlan MacKay, Darach’s foster-brother, says of Darach’s and Caitlin’s courtship: 

“I doona know when I’ve laughed so much as watching Darach trying to control [Caitlin] over the past few weeks. Her intentions are good, but she’s trouble. It follows her around like a faithful hound.”

Darach is undone by her. His heart, which he swore he’d NEVER give to another woman, is torn from his body and becomes putty in her hands. Of course, he doesn’t know that at first, and even when he finally figures it out, he doesn’t tell her—he’s a warrior, a leader of his people, not a poet. And Caitlin, who is determined to make Darach happy whether he wants her to or not, doesn’t believe there’s any possible way she can stay with him. She needs to leave the Highlands immediately and find her mother’s family in France.

’Cause there’s a whole lotta trouble on her tail (some might call it a shite storm—haha!) heading straight for Darach. But what Caitlin fails to realize is that Darach, along with his brothers and their clans, is strong enough to handle it. 

War is coming. Caitlin didn’t start the blood feud between the Frasers and the MacKenzies, nay, Laird Fraser and his sister, Darach’s former betrothed, did that, but she will be the catalyst that ends it—pinning the good men of the Highlands against a monster.

And hopefully winning.

(Well of course they win, and of course Darach and Caitlin live happily ever after—it’s a romance, after all!!)

Now go—before I start rambling and give too much away. Read the words and feel the feels. Fall in love with both Darach and Caitlin…and prepare yourself for Lachlan’s story next.

Smooches,

Alyson McLayne

About the Book

Five boys destined to become Highland lairds are fostered together as brothers. Darach, Lachlan, Callum, Gavin and Kerr fight for their clans, for each other, and for their own true loves.

When forced to choose between duty and honor…
Darach MacKenzie vowed never again to let a woman near his heart after his betrothed betrayed him. It sparked an intense feud between his clan and the Frasers. With all-out war on the wind, Darach can’t be distracted—not even by a sweet and charming lass who desperately needs his help.

This Highland Laird will find a way to have both
When Darach rescued Caitlin MacInnes from the clutches of vile Laird Fraser, she vowed to never let men or misery rule her life again. With Darach and the MacKenzie clan, Caitlin finally feels safe. But when Laird Fraser shows up to claim what’s rightfully his, or go to war, Darach will have to use all his brawn and brains to protect Caitlin—even if it means losing his heart.

Excerpt

“Do you think a lass like you with a horse like Cloud will even make it to Inverness without being accosted? You have no coin, no sword, no one to show you the way. ’Tis a fool’s journey. For the love of God, stay here.”

“I canna!”

“Why e’re not?”

The familiar panic that she tried so hard to tamp down pushed up from her belly and threatened to close her throat. “My uncle and Fraser—they’ll find me. I willna go back! I’ll be free of them in France.”

“Nay, Caitlin, you’ll be abused or raped or dead in France—if you even get there. You’ll only be safe if you stay with the MacKenzies. ’Tis all right to be afraid, lass. You survived a horrendous ordeal. But you must think clearly. You canna go to France.”

“Am I your prisoner, then?”

He reared back from her. “Nay, of course not.”

“So if I wanted to ride Cloud through the gates tonight, I could?”

“You would die.”

“But would you let me pass, if ’twas what I truly wanted?”

His eye twitched steadily, along with a muscle in his jaw. Finally he said, “I took an oath to keep you safe, lass, but aye, you could leave. You can leave. But not alone. I will send men with you who know the way and will keep the brigands at bay.”

So he wouldnae control her, lock her away as her uncle had done.

The pressure inside her eased, and on a half sob, half laugh, she threw her arms around his shoulders, impulsively pressing her lips to his. They were as soft as she’d imagined. He stiffened for an instant, then wrapped her in his embrace, one hand sinking into her hair, the other sliding downward to anchor their hips together. A rumble sounded in his chest, and he angled his head, licking the seam of her lips. When she gasped in surprise, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth to rub against hers. Heat scorched her skin at the contact, and her breasts tightened—hard and aching. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

The brush fell from her fingers and crashed to the floor. He yanked his head back, lids heavy, breath harsh and quick. Her own breath rasped in her throat.

“You shouldnae have done that, Caitlin.” His voice grated like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

A wave of remorse washed over her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just so happy. It willna happen again, I promise. Please, doona send me back.”

He groaned and pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. “I willna send you anywhere, sweetling. No matter what you do. ’Tis just…you are such an innocent. I doona think you understand…”

Caitlin waited for him to finish. His hand stroked her hair, and she melted into him. She wanted him to keep caressing down her spine to her bottom. “Understand what?”

He sighed. “My point exactly. Most women wouldnae have to ask. ’Tis troublesome.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, wavering between self-pity and annoyance. “I did not know my gratitude was so unwelcome.”

“That was not gratitude.” Now he sounded annoyed. He tilted her chin up with his finger so she looked at him. “Have you ne’er been kissed before?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She tried to turn away, but he held her tight. “’Tis not your business. I willna tell you.”

“Aye, you will.”

She stepped on his foot, so he’d release her, but instead he wrapped his leg around hers. Trapped and off balance, she clung to him.

“Caitlin,” he prompted.

Her lips pressed together. It was mortifying that, at almost twenty, she’d only been kissed once—by an ogre who’d just told her not to do it again.

The ogre tipped her back farther.

“Hundreds of times,” she said.

“I doona think so. I think your father kept a good eye on you, and then your uncle locked you up. You know naught of kissing or anything else.”

“Fine. I have ne’er been kissed properly, but two did try. The first my father caught before the lad could do more than hold my hand. He was flung from the barn onto his backside. The second I kneed in his privates, a trick my father taught me after the first lad’s failed attempt. In return for my actions, I received this.” Caitlin pointed to her bruised temple.

“Fraser,” Darach ground out, then yanked her into a hug so tight she could scarcely breathe.

For someone who did not want her touch, he held her very close. What was the difference between a hug and a kiss? Surely they were just as intimate. So much so that if her father had seen them, he’d have done much more than throw Darach out onto his backside.

“Did you get him good?” he asked.

“Aye. He fell to his knees, then onto his side and curled up like a bairn. When he could finally stand, he hit my face and then my belly while his men held me. I fainted shortly after. I think maybe he kicked me too, for I have a large bruise on my hip and one on my thigh.”

“I will kill him.” He grasped her waist and gently moved her back to look down at her torso, as if to see the damage.

She moaned again, but this time from fear. “I doona want you hurt. Any of you.”

“He dared lay hands upon you, Caitlin. For that alone, I will gut him. None hurt what is mine to protect.”

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About the Author

A stay-at-home mom of twins and award-winning writer, Alyson McLayne is a dog lover and cat servant with a serious stash of dark chocolate. After getting her degree in theater at the University of Alberta, she promptly moved to the west coast where she worked in film for several years and met her Prop Master husband.

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