My Highland Rebel
Highland Trouble, #2
Author:
Amanda Forester
ISBN:
9781492605461
Pubdate:
January 3, 2017
Genre:
Historical Romance
A
conquering hero
Cormac Maclean would rather read than
rampage, but his fearsome warlord father demands that he prove himself in war.
Cormac chooses what he thinks is an easy target, only to encounter a fiery
Highland lass leading a doomed rebellion and swearing revenge on him.
Meets
an unconquerable heroine
Jyne Cambell is not about to give up her
castle without a fight, even though her forces are far outnumbered. She’s
proud, hot-blooded and hot-tempered, and Cormac falls for her hard.
It’s going to take all of Cormac’s
ingenuity to get Jyne to surrender gracefully—both to his sword and to his
heart…
*********************
Excerpt:
They
sat at an old oak table and broke bread together. Cormac found goblets of wine
for both of them and some food for a meal. It had been long since he had filled
his belly, so he ate hungrily of the bread and the hearty stew before him. Jyne
must have been reassured by his confidence, for the little crease on her
forehead disappeared, and she began to eat and drink with him.
He liked this, sharing a meal with her. He could almost block out the
sound of his men carousing in the great room next to them. She was a beautiful
lass. She must have been thinking of other things when she’d gotten herself
dressed this morn, for her veil was not securely fastened, causing her long,
straight blond hair to fall out before her. The color of those errant strands
was like gold. He longed to reach out and touch it. She absently brushed a lock
of hair behind her ear with a careless finger, causing him to pause in his
eating. Her blue eyes sparkled at him, and he noticed those blue eyes had
flecks of hazel green.
A
disturbance erupted in the dining hall, and one of the elderly matrons ran back
into the kitchen.
“What
is the matter?” cried Jyne, rising to her feet. “Are they no’ getting tired?”
The
woman placed a hand over her bosom, her eyes wide. “Nay, they’re getting randy!”
“Pardon?”
“I
had two o’ the men say they thought I was a vision o’ loveliness. Three done
laughed so hard, they fell from their benches, and four others started a brawl
o’er the right way to eat stew. They’ve gone mad, they have!” The matron threw her
hands up in the air.
Before
Core could make any sense of this, another elderly clanswoman, with thinning
gray hair and a large goiter, shrieked as she scrambled back into the kitchen.
“What
happened to ye?” asked Jyne. She ran to the elderly woman and helped her to sit
on the bench she had just vacated.
“I
dinna ken they’re about. One man dropped to his knees and began to recite
poetry, or at least something like it. A few others started dancing, wi’ no
music—wi’ each other! Another one demanded my hand in marriage. To me! What
sort o’ mean-spirited shenanigans are these hooligans up to?”
Jyne’s
face was one of complete loss. “Is this some sort o’ game?” she asked Core.
“If
it is, ’tis unknown to me.” Cormac had seen quite a bit of rough play from his
father’s men, but he had never heard of anything like that.
Core and Jyne
peeked inside the great hall and were astounded at what they saw. Several of
the men were having a heated argument as to which of the elderly servers was
more beautiful. Some were dancing to no music. Some were running around the
room, batting at the air, as if trying to catch invisible fairies. Others were
fighting while laughing hysterically. Jyne and Core stared at each other.
“Why
are they acting this way?” Jyne met his eye. He realized they were standing
very close as they peeked into the hall. Her beautiful blue eyes widened, and
she flushed, her cheeks a rosy hue. Her lips were the color of pale pink rose
petals and appeared so soft and inviting, he wished to lean in for just one
taste. She was beautiful. Truly beautiful.
“I
dinna ken.” He had to remind himself to answer her question. It was the truth.
He had never seen the men act in such a manner.
“Oh!”
Jyne suddenly gasped. “The potion. It must have made them mad.”
Core
couldn’t help but laugh. “Ye made them all act like fools? Och, I wish my
father was here to see it!”
“Who
is yer father?” she asked, turning her innocent blue eyes to him.
He
realized in a flash he had made a slip. “No one. Just he would think it amusing,
is all,” he said hastily. “Will the potion make them tired or just mad as
imps?”
Jyne
slapped a hand to her forehead. “Och, I’m a dunderhead, I am. Too much ale wi’
it can make a man lose his senses.”
“Ye
gave my men something to make them witless?”
“Well I… It
wasn’t what I intended… Wait, yer men?” She raised an eyebrow at him,
and he knew he was in trouble.
“My
men? I…I have no men.” He attempted nonchalance. It was not a natural state.
The
little furrow between her brows reappeared. “But I thought I heard ye say—”
He
kissed her.
It was the only thing he could think to do. The only thing he wanted to
do. He was drawn to her by a power he could not deny. He embraced her and
allowed his lips to melt onto hers. Nothing he had ever experienced before
compared, but he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, waiting for the
inevitable slap. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing
herself against him and returning his ardor with a passion that lit an
explosion within him. He did not care that his men were making fools of
themselves next door. He did not care if the entire kitchen staff could see
them. He had to kiss her.
*********************
Amanda
Forester holds a PhD in
psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing
historical romance was way more fun. A Publishers
Weekly Top Ten author, her books have been given starred reviews from Booklist, Publishers Weekly, and a Top Pick from RT Book Reviews. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval
Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer
fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. She lives with
her family in the Pacific Northwest outside Tacoma, Washington.
Social
Networking Links:
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