Modern-day woman. Medieval Highlander. Steamy battle-of-wills adventure.

Waving hello! I hope you and yours are staying safe during these trying times.

 I'm thrilled to announce A Scot's Resolve, the latest in my ongoing End of an Era series, is now available. This one was super-fun to write and kept me smiling. I hope it does you too.

About the Book

From enemies to lovers, a modern-day woman comes together with a medieval Highlander in a super-steamy battle-of-wills adventure. 

Plagued by dreams of an ancient Irish Stonehenge, Madison not only ends up with a mystical Claddagh ring but finds herself connected to a Highland scoundrel from another century. One she refuses to be destined for. He might set her heart afire, but he also makes her blood boil.
 
Eager to confront the meddlesome lass haunting his thoughts, Cray MacLeod travels to the twenty-first century only to discover his cousin, Ethyn already there pursuing Madison. He won't be the only one, though. The moment Cray lays eyes on her, he wants her too. She may not be his destined Broun, but he'll make her his regardless.

 
Once again, Cray finds himself competing with kin for the lass he desires. At least until a mysterious Stonehenge dredges up his painful past, and only Madison can help him face things he would rather forget. Things that draw them closer to daunting secrets they never saw coming.
 
Will Madison and Cray be driven apart by what they discover? Or will the heartbreak of their pasts be the key to their future? Find out as the quest to keep Scotland's King David II safe from Edward Balliol and his 'disinherited' nobles continues in A Scot's Resolve.

Teaser

If nothing else could be said about her first encounter with Cray MacLeod, it was that he was absolutely right. She did rue the day she kept him away from one woman, let alone twelve. Now the devil had come to claim his due, and she had never been so terrified.

Or aroused.

She had developed an image in her mind of what he might look like, and it was nothing like the Adonis in front of her. He was supposed to be loathsome and beady-eyed cackling with crazed lust not designed to satisfy every woman’s best erotic dream. If possible, he was even taller than Ethyn and built like a linebacker with broad shoulders. Dirty-blonde hair framed a chiseled face complete with a cleft in his chin.

Then there were his striking, almost unsettling eyes.

What color were they? Light brown? Gold? Technically, they were brown because gold wasn’t a pigmentation. But she swore pale gold cut through the light brown like angry lightning. The shade suited him, only adding to his fierce, almost wild disposition.

“You really are a beast, aren’t you?” she whispered, stunned, already caught like a fly in his trap. A spider in his web. A bird in his cage. Caught in a way she loathed but craved all at once. He had just pulled her up from the ground but hadn’t let go.

“I am dragon,” he said, his alarmingly soft tone so full of sensual promise she knew she was in trouble.

While Ethyn looked at her one way, Cray looked at her another way entirely. Not with flattering desire but dangerous promise. There was nothing dashing or romantic about his intentions for her. No, he was set to have his ‘payback’ and see her make up for all he felt lost to him. All the women denied him.

At the time, she thought he was simply full of himself, which he truly was, and that women wouldn’t fall into his bed so easily, but she was mistaken. Sour mood and all, she imagined just about any woman he pursued would be there in a heartbeat.

So said the telling ache between her own two thighs.

When he inhaled deeply, and his pupils flared with approval, she knew he could smell her. That he was, as he claimed, very much something other than fully human. For a split second, like sunlight flickering through the trees on the highway, she swore red hazed her vision, but it must have been her imagination.

“Nay, ‘tis not your imagination, lass,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. The moment seemed suspended in time. Crossing all barriers. Spanning some unknown distance.  “But I think you know that. Or at least you once did.”

She blinked against memories that threatened to surface and shook her head. “No.” Finding more gumption than she knew she had, she yanked her wrist free and stepped away. “I’m not a dragon.”

“You are,” he countered, unwilling to let this go. But then she already knew how stubborn he could be.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Aye.”

“Och, enough,” Ethyn intercepted. He frowned between them before he looked down the drive. “What was that all about, Madison? Where did your friends go?” Baffled, he shook his head and looked at her. “’Tis one thing that they got by Cray, but how did I not see them walk to the car when ‘twas right in front of me?”

“I have no idea.” Having felt her cell phone vibrate with an incoming text a few minutes ago, she pulled it out and frowned. “Apparently, Destiny cut her hand on a bottle opener, and Alyssa’s driving her to a doctor.” She narrowed her eyes down the drive and shook her head. “Something’s definitely not right about that.”

“Nay,” Ethyn agreed.

She dialed Destiny’s phone then Alyssa’s. Neither answered.

“I’m starting to think there’s a whole lot more to Destiny than meets the eye,” she murmured, shooting off texts to them both.

When the men looked at her in question, she headed inside to dry off and explained.

“So she suffers a wee bit o’ premonition from time to time,” Cray said after she finished. “She is a witch, after all, whether or not she knows it yet.”

He hadn’t stopped looking at her once. His steady gaze followed her as she poured whisky for everyone, counting the glasses out of habit as she went. It was as if he tracked her, like a predator with his prey, watching her every motion. Sizing up how she moved. How fast she might dart away. Which was unnecessary considering how clumsy she could be, seen clearly in her fiasco outside.

Better to focus on Ethyn, who she had claimed was hers when faced with Cray as the alternative. Not to say she wouldn’t mind being with Ethyn. Just seeing him smile made her want to smile in return, which said something. Men rarely invoked such a response. Case in point, far too intense undressing-her-with-his-eyes-Cray certainly didn't.

“Nay,” he rumbled, again making himself at home in her mind. “But then I'm not here to make you smile.” The corner of his mouth curled up ever-so-slightly, his sensual warning crystal clear. “I'm here to put another look entirely on your face.”

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