Just Imagine

Just Imagine

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Welcome to my blog! Pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee and read what's on my mind. I've a vicious sense of humor, an apprecation for romance and a mad addiction to writing.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Powerful Love. Merciless Revenge. Wrath of the Highlander- The MacLomain Series: Next Generation.

Welcome! Summer is sizzling hot here in New Hampshire and as usual, I’m writing away. The characters from the MacLomain Series- Next Generation are keeping me well entertained. I hope you enjoyed last month’s release, Vow of the Highlander. I know several readers have been anticipating Malcolm’s story. Well wait no more… Wrath of the Highlander is here!

This book kept me up many nights not just writing but simply thinking. Why? Well, not only is this novel at the center of the series but it’s about one of my favorite characters, Malcolm MacLomain. As you can imagine, crawling inside his head was no easy task. Sure, he’d had it rough what with a traitorous wife now deceased and a lairdship denied him, but I was determined to see past his brooding nature to the man he once was. Though aggressive and dominating, I knew he was also by far one of the most honorable highlanders I’ve written about. Through that honor I was able to further understand what was at the root of him.

They say behind every good man is a good woman. As it turns out, Malcolm’s was not who you might’ve anticipated. Though Sheila made it clear she desired him, she kept a secret in Vow of the Highlander  that you’ll soon read about. But little would that have mattered because there’s another Broun cousin in town… or should I say medieval Scotland? With Cadence around, things will never be the same.

So here you go! I hope you enjoy reading Wrath of the Highlander  half as much as I enjoyed writing it.


Bookstore owner and ghostwriter, Cadence wants nothing more than to be part of the unending draw between her Broun heritage and the medieval MacLomain clan. When an unexpected Claddagh ring appears on her finger, the distant past soon becomes her future. Though sure she was brought back in time for another man, the laird’s cousin soon draws her eye, then her every thought.

Recently widowed by a traitorous wife, Malcolm MacLomain has no use for love. Merciless, he swears revenge on his enemies and embarks for war. When courageous and persevering, Cadence becomes part of his endeavor his broken heart starts to mend. Caught in an unexpected journey of forgiveness and discovery, two worlds collide and heal despite the, Wrath of the Highlander.


“Have you found your mystery man yet, lass?” he said, so low she would feel the rumble of his inquisition through the thin material of her silky, smooth dress.

Her lips trembled, eyes wide, but she gave no answer.

Oh, but to close his lips over hers.

“No,” Cadence finally murmured, her eyes still locked on his. “But I will find him.”

When she licked her lips, his eyes drifted down. Wide and full, they were created for pure sin. He could only imagine them running down his body, surrounding him where it mattered most. Damnation, he needed  her closer.

Though he wouldn’t kiss her, he’d sure as hell dance with her.

Ignoring her assurance that she was meant for another man, Malcolm pulled her into the dancing crowd. It didn’t matter if the music was merry; he wasn’t in the mood for speed. Besides, he needed to hide his swelling erection. This time he’d not temper the poor thing with magic. Nay, she’d feel his need while she tried to keep focus on the man she so eagerly sought.  

“Goddess above, what are you doing to me,” she whispered, voice strangled.

Arms wrapped tight around her lower back, he brought his mouth against her ear. “‘Twill be no goddess giving you answers, only me.” He tightened his hold. “Do you feel me then, lass?”

“How could I not?” she gasped. Hands clamped on his upper arms, she turned her face into his chest and mumbled, “You show ill respect to a man you have not met.”

“I dinnae respect a man until he earns it.” Malcolm closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.

As each individual note trilled from the bagpipe, she melted against him more thoroughly than the icy snowflakes speckling his heated skin. Fire and drink might warm the crowd but where they stood his breath hit the air in foggy puffs. Always a fan of the cold, but an even bigger fan of a bonnie wee lass against him, he cupped one hand around the back of her neck.

Her heart thundered against his.

Her body shuddered.

“Easy, lass,” he whispered. “I willnae take what you’re unwilling to give.”

“Yet you hold me prisoner,” she murmured.

“Nay, we but dance.”

“If only.”

Her words were so soft he barely heard them.

Jaw grinding, he held her securely with his arm while pressing his arousal tighter against her. Och, but to be inside of her, to see the look on her face when he made her his.

“No,” she whispered. Then she pulled back, her voice stronger as her eyes met his. “No.”

“Aye, lass.” But he loosened his hold and gave her one more word before he let her go. “Soon.” 

Coming soon to iTunes and Google Books

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