Finding My
Highlander
by
Aleigha Siron
(@AleighaSiron)
Blurb
Excerpt
On a windswept cliff above San
Francisco Bay in 2013, 27 year-old Andra Cameron, the last member of
her family, prepares to scatter her family's ashes to the wind. An earthquake
catapults her to the Scottish Highlands in 1705. She wakes, aching and bloody,
to the sound of horses thundering through the trees. Terrified and with no
other options, Andra accompanies these rugged warriors. She can't deny the
undeniable attraction that ignites between herself and the handsome but gruff
Kendrick. Will she trust him to provide protection in the harsh reality of 18th
century Scotland and with her secret, or will she find a way to
return home to the 21st century?
Laird Kendrick MacLean and his men, escaping a recent skirmish
with their worst nemeses, clan Cameron and their Sassenach allies, are shocked
to find an injured, unprotected female in their path. How could she not know
her kin and how had she landed in the middle of the wilderness alone? His men
suspect she's a spy or a witch. Still, Kendrick will not abandon an injured
woman, even if she speaks unusually accented English, and her name is Cameron.
Will he ransom her to others or will their closed hearts open to each other?
Although he questions her every utterance, this feisty, outspoken woman
inflames his desire like no other.
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“Lass, can I help you?” His voice was softer than the others, his
stance relaxed, composed, despite the dirt and blood splattered over his
massive arms and clothing. He seemed to be a quiet, gentle man, though
physically as imposing as the others.
“You could bring me my bag.”
He moved his hand from behind him and cautiously extended her
mother’s old carpetbag. “Do I need to check it for weapons?” A slight crinkle
lifted the corner of his mouth. A piece of leather cord tied wavy, light-brown
hair at the nape of his neck and tight braids spilled alongside sharp, scruffy
cheeks. His eyes were dark and shadowed.
“Thank you…it’s Rabbie, correct?”
“Aye,” he nodded.
Andra granted him a guarded smile. “I’ll pull no further weapons
if you promise to be kind.” The slight attempt at humor from both of them eased
the tension coiled in her gut.
He swept an arm gracefully in front of him and bowed, “Always,
m’lady, as I learned at me mother’s knee.” Then he left her to tend the horses.
She searched her bag for the washcloth, hand towel, and first aid
kit she always carried when traveling. The washcloth came to hand first. She
dipped it into the cold water and wiped the dried and clotted blood from her
face and hair. Then she dunked her head in the pool several more times.
“I seem to be awake,” she whispered, just for the comfort on her
own voice. “My surroundings feel solid enough,” she pounded her fist on the
dirt, “so it must be real. Accept it, Andra, and decide what to do next.”
She could hear the men speaking Gaelic, hushed yet clearly
distraught about the condition of their clansman. They gathered near another
pool of water several yards from where she knelt. She watched them over her
shoulder for a few minutes struggling to fit the scene into her new reality. A
million questions rose in her throat.
“Not now. Patience and observation are what’s required. All will
be revealed in time.” What a stupid cliché.
Should she offer her help with their friend; would they accept it?
She could not sit here and do nothing when one of them was seriously injured.
Besides, anxiety always spurred her to take action. Her father had always said,
“Move, keep busy, and don’t
let dust gather under your feet.” With her father’s words ringing
in her ears, she approached the men cautiously, keeping her eye on the mean
one, Struan.
“May I be of assistance?” She stood with her feet firmly planted
on the hard-packed, dirt floor, her head held high, one hand pressed flat
against her side, the other rested on the cross dangling on her chest. It took
an extreme effort to control her trembling body. Her palms moistened with
sweat. She steadied her focus on Kendrick. His strong hands moved carefully
over his brother’s body. The mean one harrumphed and growled.
A growl? Really?
Kendrick looked up, concern etched on his face. His dark, probing
eyes bore through her. “Are you a healer, then?” he asked.
“Not a healer exactly, but I have cared for ill and injured
persons and have some training in first aid. I wish to help if you’ll permit
me.”
“I dinnae ken your meaning. What’s the first aid of which you
speak? As you can see, we give him aid, but if you can do anything to help save
my brother’s life, I will gladly accept your offer.”
The mean one growled again. “Don’t trust her, she’s the enemy and
will just as soon slit his throat.”
Ignoring the slur, she continued, “Have you determined the extent
of his injuries?”
“Aye, his shoulder is dislocated, several fingers broken, which we
have straightened and bound as best we’re able. We need to stitch multiple,
deep wounds, and he’s lost a lot of blood, though blood no longer flows
freely.”
The injured man lay on a plaid, stripped completely naked, his
kilt torn away from his battered body. Mud, blood, and all manner of vile
debris caked the hard planes of his bronzed chest. Andra couldn’t identify the severity
or location of all his injuries. He moaned but appeared unconscious, or so she
assumed, since he hadn’t opened his eyes. Clumps of dried blood crusted over
wounds on one leg and foot. Dark, matted refuse covered the entire other leg.
His manhood lay flaccid against his thigh, and none of the men
seemed concerned about his state of undress in front of a strange female. She
stood quietly, waiting for several breaths.
After more than twenty years writing and delivering
management and other training programs for modest-sized to Fortune Five Hundred
companies, and ten years developing community crisis-intervention training
programs, Aleigha turned her writing efforts to her first loves, fiction, and
poetry. Her poetry has appeared in numerous anthologies and university
presses over the past few decades. Following a difficult period in her
life, she discovered solace in romance novels that inspired her to write in
this genre. As she says, "who doesn't desire a guaranteed
happy-ever-after scenario?" Always interested in the concept of
time-travel, she knew her first few stories would follow that theme.
When not writing, her trusty four-legged companion/helper,
Strider, accompanies her on sunset walks along the shore. During these quiet
walks under an expansive sky, with the whoosh of waves across the sand and her
gaze drifting over the rolling sea, her best glimmers of inspiration come to
mind. Following the recent discovery of distant Scottish ancestors, she
embarked on a trip to the Highlands. Although she had already developed
the characters for Finding My Highlander, her trip to the Highlands enriched
the characters and enhanced the story direction. This is her first
full-length romance novel. Aleigha is working on a prequel to Finding
My Highlander, and another time-travel novel set in a later period.
WWW (Aleigha Siron’s Webpage)
Aleigha Siron’s Book page at Tirgearr Publishing
Aleigha Siron’s Book page at Tirgearr Publishing
Tirgearr Publishing Home Page
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AleighaSiron
Facebook:
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Muffy, likened in style to one of the Bronte sisters and Anne Rice, is an award winning bestselling author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion. An American author of the popular Shadow Seduction Series (a paranormal love story) and the Ribbons of Moonlight Series (a contemporary romance), she has penned a dozen other books and anthology collections.
Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Join Muffy's mailing list to get the scoop on her new releases and special promotions at www.MuffyWilson.com. Follow her on Facebook at facebook.com/wilsonmuffy or /MuffyWilson.com and on Twitter at @SexyMuffyWilson. Muffy also blogs daily here: http://muffywilson.blogspot.com ~ Contact Muffy at Muffy@MuffyWilson.com. ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion
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I was born when we kissed; I died when we parted. I lived in your embrace while we loved..........