Cathy MacRae's Blog, page 19

Fun for Readers - a Scavenger Hunt with Prizes!

A Tea Party & Books Scavenger Hunt!
$1150 in Amazon Cards
Feb 16th - March 8th
It's time to brew up a pot of tea and go on a book scavenger hunt. No need to get dressed, PJ's are fine. Just have fun and find some awesome books to enjoy. In no time you will be adding books to your list and dreaming of the Amazon cards to be had. Get started now: https://www.nightowlreviews.com/V5/Blog/Articles/Tea-Books-2017
 
Grand Prize: $100 Amazon eGift Card
OVER 100 WINNERS!
$50 Amazon eGift Cards (5 Winners)
$25 Amazon eGift Cards (5 Winners)
$10 Amazon eGift Cards (40 Winners)
$5 Amazon eGift Cards (55 Winners)
 
So, click on that link and join the fun! What are you waiting for?

Valentine's Day Countdown Recap

Happy Valentine's Day!!

For the past 2 weeks, I've posted memes on facebook featuring the books I've written thus far. Each story is a tale of love, though perhaps not always quite so straightforward.

I've arranged the memes below for your enjoyment (and because I had great fun creating them!)
And, if you're looking for a lovely deal, you'll find Highland Escape for a limited time in the set, Heroes of the Heart.​
​
(If any strike your fancy, just click on the meme for the link)                         From The Highlander's Bride series
The Ghosts of Culloden Moor seek vengence - or do they? Love can be an elusive thing. 

Medieval Monday Blog Hop - Villain Theme with Ruth A. Casie

Welcome to week 2 of our blog hop! I'm hosting Ruth A. Casie and an excerpt from her book, The Highlander's English Woman.

Excerpt Two: The Highlander’s English Woman by Ruth A. Casie
Jamie’s focus turned to Laura, the younger of the two sisters. Laura and Lisbeth were alike from their slender, petite size bodies, long auburn hair, and large green eyes with a fan of thick lashes. The sisters may be similar in appearance, however, not in temperament. Lisbeth was the deep thinker. Laura was head strong and outspoken, the feistier defiant sister.
“How are you and Lisbeth faring?” He gazed back at Wesley.
Follow along next week by checking out Laurel O’Donnell’s blog for excerpt #3     http://www.laurel-odonnell.com/blog.html

Blurb:
Laura Reynolds is in love with her long-time friend, Jamie Maxwell Collins. She adores his playful sense of humor, caring nature as well as his strong sense of family and honor.
Jamie lives across the border in Scotland. Outwardly carefree, he hides a dark secret. He can’t involve Laura in this deception. He can’t give her hope for a future together.
Laura stumbles upon Jamie’s secret. In her heart of hearts she knows Jamie is innocent. Their relationship in tatters and with no hope of reconciliation, she plays a deadly game to exonerate Jamie, she agrees to a political marriage. She has no idea the entire game has been orchestrated by her future husband, Jamie’s greatest enemy.

​Available at Amazon

Tea Party & Books at Night Owl Review (with prizes!)

Ready for a great party? Then
I've got a treat for you!

I'm one of the sponsors of the Night Owl Reviews A TEA PARTY & BOOKS Scavenger Hunt.
 
During this event I'm going to help you find some great new books. Make sure to check my featured title out along the way.
 
The grand prize is a $100 Amazon Gift Card. The total prize pool is over $1000!
 
Enter Now at: ​https://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Blog/Articles/Tea-Books-2017

Medieval Monday Blog Hop - Villain Theme

Welcome to the Medieval Monday Blog Hop! We've started a new theme - villians - and an exciting new format!

Each week, you will find excerpts from villain scenes on each of our Medieval Monday blogs. Every week will offer a new excerpt building on the previous one!

Join us! It will be fun!

And, don't worry, we'll provide the link to the next week's excerpt to make it easier to follow along.

Let's get started!

Today, I'm highlighting a scene from The Highlander's French Bride. 

Sometimes betrayal is closer than you think.

“Come with me to settle the child,” Lucienne ordered as she lifted her daughter to her hip. With misgivings, Melisende followed her sister up the narrow stairs. Arielle’s large dark eyes stared at her over her mother’s shoulder, and Melisende wrinkled her nose at her in a friendly way. Arielle ducked her head.
Lucienne set Arielle down and ushered her inside the room with a small push of her hand. The little girl stepped inside the room, fingers fisted tight in her mother’s skirt. Lucienne brushed her hand away. “You are wrinkling my gown, ma petite. Haven’t I told you not to rumple my clothes?”
Arielle dropped her gaze then lifted it slightly to stare at Melisende. Her heart breaking to see the results of her sister’s callous behavior, Melisende gave the child a tender smile. An answering one tugged at Arielle’s lips.
                                                 * * *
Follow along for the next excerpt on Laurel O’Donnell’s Medieval Monday blog Feb. 13!

Blurb:

​Heir to a lairdship, Kinnon Macrory is driven to prove his worth by fighting the English on the battlefields of France. His dreams of heroic valor are destroyed by the realities of war—the atrocities visited by fellow soldiers on the very people he is sworn to protect. Three years in a French prison for a crime he did not commit leave Kinnon longing for the one thing of beauty in his war-torn life—a young woman of great kindness and wisdom named Melisende.
 
Melisende de la Roche struggles to stay one step ahead of soldiers who would imprison her for helping an injured Scotsman wrongly accused of treason. She finds refuge in her uncle’s shop—until a chance encounter sends her fleeing into the unknown once again, haunted by the beguiling friendship with the troubled young Scotsman she is certain she will never see again.
 
Determined to find the woman of his dreams, Kinnon returns to France, only to discover nothing more than a trail of clues to Melisende’s whereabouts. Their reunion will open the doors to passion, but half-truths and lies from the past could destroy the one thing they both are willing to fight for—each other.
 
Buy link: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B018OHXKHK

Medieval Monday Celebration with Barbara Bettis

Today's wedding celebration is interrupted in Barbara Bettis' story, The Lady of the Forest.

Is Henry right to challenge Mortimer? What will he risk to keep Kate from marrying the baron?

In this excerpt, Henry has interrupted the wedding celebration at Stonehill Castle to challenge Mortimer’s right to marry Kate.
 
[Henry and his two friends] stalked into the hall where the lord held forth at the high table before the household left for the chapel. Kate sat at his right, the priest at his left.
 
“Sir Mortimer.” Henry’s voice boomed above the din. “Stand and answer my challenge.”
 
Mortimer lifted his head. “Lord Henry. Sit, break your fast before I wed my lady.” His oily tone did not match his hard set of jaw and narrowed eyes.
 
Henry ignored the words and continued across the floor. Mortimer rose but before he could speak, Henry leaped onto the dais.
 
“You have no right to demand Lady Katherine in marriage.” It took all Henry’s determination not to glance at Kate.
 
“I have an order from the king, granting me this holding and the lady as my bride.”
 
“I say the order does not exist.” A murmur rose from the people seated at the lower tables. Calling the lord a liar meant a fight. But no sounds arose of benches scraping back. Perhaps the soldiers awaited a signal. Henry stepped closer. “Produce this writ. Let me examine the seal.”
 
Dull red moved up Mortimer’s neck; his nostrils flared.
 
Henry sucked in a breath of satisfaction. He had him now. “You cannot. The people of Stonehill have been mistreated and their lady driven into hiding in fear for her life. You’ve lied and cheated, and you’ve taken part in a treasonous attempt to overthrow one of the king’s barons.”
 
He hadn’t known what to expect from Mortimer, but it wasn’t the self-satisfied upturn of the man’s mouth. Dread scraped a cold trail along Henry’s spine.
 
“You may be another baron and a pet of the king,” Mortimer said, “but that don’t make you always right, and that don’t keep you from facing a fight when you accuse an honest man of wrongdoing.”
 
He motioned to the priest, who stood and withdrew a section of parchment from a leather satchel beside him on the bench. It contained no seals.
 
Henry clenched his teeth. Why in the devil’s own hell hadn’t he considered the priest as the knight’s accomplice?
 
The churchman opened the document and at a nod from Mortimer, read. “Sir Mortimer of Corbeau, in gratitude for service, is granted the holding of Stonehill in Nottinghamshire…”
 
A loud buzzing in Henry’s ears blotted the words that followed. Satan’s backside! The writ existed. The parchment was stained and tattered, not the official document often used to dispense favors, but he’d seen Richard direct a clerk to scratch out such awards after a battle. They were rough and hurried, yet they carried the weight of the king’s power.
 
And they always carried his seal.
 
Where was the seal for this order?
 
 
Buy Links: AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2czF6Fl
TWRP:http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/search?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=the+lady+of+the+forest&submit_search

Medieval Monday Celebrations with Mary Morgan

Enjoy a sample from Mary Morgan's book, A Magical Highland Solstice.

Excerpt:
 
Cormac’s stomach protested fiercely as he descended the stairs. He had eaten little on his journey with Eve—happily content to watch her munch on an apple, or nibble on bread and cheese. She chatted between bites, her hands flying about to match her liveliness. When she complained he had not eaten anything, he relented. He watched in fascination as she wedged cheese and apple slices between the two pieces of bread she tore off for him. It was the most glorious meal he had ever eaten. However, his heart almost stopped beating when she nearly cut her finger with his sgian dubh.
 
As he attempted to snatch the blade from her hand, she smacked him away, informing him she knew how to handle a knife.
 
He chuckled at the memory and nearly collided with the golden-haired beauty coming toward him.
 
“Yikes! I’m sorry, Cormac.” She grabbed his arm, trying to steady the trencher with her other hand.
 
He lifted the item from her hand as it was about to tumble free. “My pardons. My thoughts were elsewhere.” Inhaling the aroma, he asked, “Wild boar with mushrooms and onions?”
 
“You have guessed correctly, Laird Cormac.”
 
He arched a brow. “We are feasting grandly with only a few days before the Yule?”
 
Eve glanced over his shoulder and behind her before stepping close, as if she was about to pass along some great secret. “They’re experimenting with new mushrooms and herbs from Cathal. I heard it on good authority that a certain laird must approve the dish.” She gave him a wink.
 
Cormac inspected the dish and then lifted his finger.
 
“You wouldn’t dare,” she protested, smacking his hand away.
 
Lifting the trencher high over his head, he replied, “Remember, I am the laird, aye?”
 
Eve fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “And because you are the leader of the clan, you must show some respect.”
 
His gaze raked over her face and settled on her lips. “I will concede defeat, but only if ye grant me a kiss.”
 
Her cheeks flushed as she looked around the corridor. “Here?”
 
“Aye.” As Cormac stepped closer, Eve moved backward.
 
“What if…someone sees us?”
 
Cormac’s smiled turned predatory. “All I asked for was a kiss, nae to plunder your body.”
 
When her back hit the wall, she parted her lips. “One kiss only?”
 
He arched a brow, understanding her meaning. “I beg for only one. Yet, later, I shall demand many more.”
 
 “Then take your kiss, my laird,” she whispered.
 
Slowly, Cormac lowered his mouth to hers, and a moan of pleasure slipped through her lips. Powerful, hungry desire spiraled through him as her tongue invaded him, seeking, stroking. He growled, taking all she had to offer. When one of her hands wrapped around his neck, he deepened the kiss. He was lost in her touch, her lips, and Cormac burned for more.
 
Finally breaking free, Cormac found he was the one trembling.
 
“Is your arm getting tired?” she asked, breathing heavily as her hand slipped across his shoulder.
 
“Nae.”
 
She gave him a gentle push back and stepped away from his embrace. “Good. I’ll relieve you of the trencher, though I’ll make sure to place it near you.”
 
Obliging, Cormac handed her the trencher of food. As he strolled away, he said, “Ye may inform Moira and the others I approve of the meat.”
 
Eve glanced over her shoulder at him. “Now why would I lie? You haven’t tasted the food?”
 
“Och, but I have, fair Eve. From your lips.”
 
“You’re incorrigible.”
 
Cormac roared with laughter. “I shall leave it to ye to help me make amends for my bad habits, Lady Eve.”
 
She snorted and walked into the Great Hall.
 
“By the hounds…what have ye done to me, sweet lass?”
 
 
Blurb:
Laird Cormac Murray has witnessed how love destroyed his own father after the death of his mother, and he vows to never take a wife. Yet, when he comes upon a bewildered lass traveling alone, he finds his heart will no longer listen to his mind. In the end, Cormac risks everything to claim the love of a woman not of his time.
Eve Brannigan loves helping others and baking. After winning a contest, she is stunned to learn that the Clan Murray has requested her assistance to cater to their guests during the holiday season. When a lost path in Scotland leads her to a handsome but gruff Highlander, Eve fights the temptation to allow love to enter her heart for the first time.
Can the Fae and the magic of the Yule season bring together two souls who have forsaken love? Or will tragedies from the past separate the lovers forever?
                                             * * *
Buy Links: Release day 12.2.16
 
Amazon    BN    Kobo    Apple iBooks
 

Medieval Monday Celebrations with Sherry Ewing

A beautiful setting for a celebration in Sherry Ewing's novel, Hearts Across Time.

Excerpt:
 
The golden sun began to peek over the ocean horizon, splashing the morning sky with a thousand shades of pink and orange. The further it rose, the more color splattered across the cloudless sky until all traces of the earlier shades vanished. ’Twas obvious, the perfect day was a gift from the heavens and a priceless tribute to the woman Riorden would call his wife for the rest of his life.
Riorden was in no rush to head down to the Great Hall.  There was no need. Katherine and her ladies had insisted ’twas bad luck to see the bride afore the wedding. He had never heard of such a custom, but who was he to tempt fate? Nay, he dare not look upon her, if such an occurrence would displease God, and in His wrath, He would wrench Katherine back from whence she had come.
Patrick brought Riorden a small repast, along with water to wash and fresh garments Lynet had lovingly sewn for his wedding. He was not surprised when he saw the tunic. Gilded fabric had been embroidered and used as trim on the deep blue cloth Katherine herself had chosen, saying the color would match his eyes. He smiled, wondering how she would look in the golden material he had chosen for her. He supposed, he would find out soon enough.
A knock roused Riorden from his musings of his lovely lady. Opening the door, he saw Aiden standing there, also dressed in his finest.
“What...no sword?” Riorden inquired in jest. He also was to leave his sword within his chamber, although he stowed a small, serviceable blade in his belt.
Aiden appeared completely ill at ease. “Nay! Amiria refused to allow such in the chapel. God’s wounds, Riorden...I feel as if I am only but half dressed.”
A chuckle rumbled inside Riorden. “Do not be so troubled, my friend. The mass and ceremony should be no longer than an hour or two. Surely, your sister will allow you your blade afterwards.”
“Ha! Easy for you to say. She made it clear she does not trust me.”
“Let me guess,” Riorden mulled over. “She hid it from you, did she?”
“My twin knows me only too well, I am afraid,” Aiden muttered miserably. “Dristan has hidden hers, as well. At least he managed to get her into a dress, instead of boots and hose.”
“Knowing Amiria, I am sure she will in no uncertain terms let me know of the sacrifice she has made, on the behalf of my lady, to appear in such.”
Aiden at last smiled knowingly. “You can count on it.”
“Why are you here? It cannot be time, as yet, is it?”
“Damn, I almost forgot my purpose,” Aiden cursed. “Dristan asked that you come to his solar. He will then accompany you to the chapel at the appointed hour.”
“Then let us be on our way, since I am all but done here,” Riorden said, and they made their way up to the third floor.
He had just taken the last step on the tower stairs, when he halted his progress to peer down the passageway toward Lynet’s chamber. Intent on listening to the bubbly laughter of his soon to be wife and her friends, he began to hear a strange haunting melody, most likely coming from the machine Kat called a cellphone. She was so close, and he found he had missed her company this past eve, more than he would have thought possible.
He took a step in the direction towards where, in his heart, he wanted to be until he felt Aiden tugging at his arm.
“Come on, Riorden. You shall see her afore you know it.”
                                            * * *
 
Blurb:
 
Bestselling author Sherry Ewing presents this special edition box set getting 5 star reviews that is combining Katherine and Riorden’s complete story from For All of Ever and Only For You in Hearts Across Time: The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time Novel (Books One & Two).
 
Sometimes all you need is to just believe…
 
For All of Ever: Katherine Wakefield has dreamed and written of her knight in shining armor all her life. Yet, how could she have known that when she and her three closest friends take a dream vacation to England that they’d find themselves thrown back more than eight hundred years into the past? Riorden de Deveraux travels to Bamburgh answering the summons of King Henry II. But nothing prepares him for the beautiful vision of a strangely clad ghost who first appears in his chamber. Centuries are keeping them apart until Time gives them a chance at finding love. Will the past of one consume what their future may hold, or will Time take the decision from them and hurdle Katherine forward to where she truly belongs?
 
Only For You: Katherine de Deveraux has it all but settling into her duties at Warkworth Castle is not easy and downright dangerous to her well-being. Consumed with memories of his father, Riorden must deal with his sire’s widow. Yet how could he know how far Marguerite will go to have the life she feels they were meant to live? Torn apart, Time becomes their true enemy while Marguerite continues her ploy to keep Riorden at her side. With all hope lost, will Katherine & Riorden find a way to save their marriage?
 
Buy Links – available in eBook and paperback
 
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Y3XWmL
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1trffVj
iBooks: http://apple.co/1MH6NtO
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UxFUv3
 

Medieval Monday Celebrations with Elisabeth Hobbes

Will has made a wager. But will he win?

Take a peek at Elisabeth Hobbes' book, A Wager for the Widow.

 
 Excerpt:
Nothing more needed to be done. The beeswax candles glowed on each table, chandelier and wall sconce, their scent mingling with bundles of dried lavender. The tables were laid with Sir Edgar’s finest plate, enamelled silver glinting in the firelight. Fresh rushes had been laid on the floor and the soft music of lute and harp drifted from the gallery above.
Will looked round with satisfaction and smiled to himself. He pictured Eleanor’s expression when she saw the Great Hall and raised his cup to his lips in silent tribute to her. By his side Edmund continued to talk though Will had stopped listening. He could have done without Edmund bragging about his latest bedroom conquest in his ear.
Love or wealth.
Will had been thinking all day about Eleanor and Lady Fitzallan’s argument when he had interrupted them and had a dreadful suspicion they were discussing Allencote. The knight had been seeking Eleanor out the previous evening and Will had rarely seen them apart over the last two days. Had he told her of his debts and did she want to marry him despite her parent’s wishes? He found it hard to believe she had fallen for Allencote so quickly, but could think of no other explanation for her words.
‘You’re playing a risky game, Will,’ Edmund said.
Will’s started at hearing his name.
‘It’s a lot of money to lose and she won’t unbend by midnight. Admit defeat and I’ll cut the stake by three groats,’ Edmund said magnanimously.
The wager. Will ran a hand through his hair as, not for the first time, his conscience stabbed. If Eleanor was reckless in choosing love over wealth, he was guilty of doing the opposite, continuing to chase his stake when Eleanor had long since filled his heart more than the thought of riches filled his mind. He had seen enough to know he had awakened the feelings Edmund believed Eleanor had buried, but if she was planning to bestow them on Allencote, money was all Will could hope to gain from the wager. That and a memory to console himself with.
He frowned at Edmund’s words. ‘It isn’t midnight yet. I’ll still win,’ he said confidently.
‘Win what? What stake?’ Anne Fitzallan’s head appeared over her brother’s shoulder. She peered at the men curiously. Edmund pulled her around into a hug and she laughed with delight.
‘William is about to make me a richer man.’ Edmund grinned.
Anne narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Will glared at Edmund. ‘It’s nothing of note,’ he cut in quickly, ‘simply a silly game.’ Changing the subject, he asked, ‘Are you looking forward to the feast?’
Anne twirled around, displaying her flowing skirt. ‘Yes, I am. The Earl of Etherington’s squire has asked me for the first dance. I think he likes me.’
Will smiled. ‘I’m happy for you. The lad’s of good family and the earl is a fair master.’
Anne danced away. It was fortunate her attachment had not been long lasting, Will mused. He doubted his own heart would mend as quickly.
A fanfare sounded and the Master of the Chamber swung the great double doors open. Guests began to file into the room and take their allotted places, colourful and extravagantly clothed. Allencote appeared, looking handsome and confident in a burgundy surcoat with broadly slashed sleeves and cuffs. Will glanced down at his own attire: a plain black surcoat and breeches, the discreet orange-and-green collar and cuffs the only outward indication of his position. Let others dress themselves like peacocks to display their greatness. Will had no need.
Eleanor walked through the doorway and Will forgot everything.
She wore green. Pale silk under a mantle of heavy, emerald velvet laced with gold braid from beneath her high breasts to her slender waist. Her hair had been twisted atop her head and encased in a net of gold so that her braids flamed between the metal. The gown left her shoulders bare and the elegant expanse of creamy flesh sent Will’s heart thudding into his stomach.
Half-a-dozen men leapt to their feet as they saw Eleanor, but Will was quicker. He tore his gaze from the curve of her throat and collarbone and strode to her. He bowed before her, then lifted his head. His eyes travelled slowly up her body until he met her gaze, determined to leave her in no doubt of the effect she was having upon him. She looked uncertain until Will gave her a discreet wink. She smiled back and the world brightened, as though a hundred more candles had begun to burn.
‘Let me escort you to your seat, Lady Peyton,’ Will said formally. As she took his outstretched arm he whispered in an undertone, ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. It was worth the hailstorm to see you in that dress.’
Eleanor said nothing, but a blush crept across her cheeks and her fingers tightened on his arm. Will led her to her seat, reluctantly relinquishing her to the company of the Sheriff of Tawstott. He could barely keep his eyes from her for the rest of the feast.
 
When the final dishes had been removed the tables were cleared for the dancing to begin. The musicians tuned their instruments and an expectant hush fell over the hall.
Allencote began to thread his way through the crowd towards her and Will crossed the room to her side. The two men reached her at the same time. Eleanor looked from one to the other apprehensively.
‘Will you dance the first measure with me, Lady Peyton?’ Allencote asked, a shade before Will could ask the same question.
Eleanor’s eyes flickered briefly to Will’s. He held her gaze boldly though his stomach curled with anxiety. It was out of his hands now. If she chose Allencote, he had lost everything.
 
 
Blurb: ‘I SUPPOSE A KISS OF GRATITUDE IS OUT OF THE QUESTION?’
Widowed Lady Eleanor Peyton has chosen a life of independence. Living alone on her rocky coastal outcrop, she’s cut herself off from the world of men – until William Rudhale saves her life and demands a kiss!
As steward to Lady Eleanor’s father, Will knows the desire he burns with is futile – but he’ll still wager he can claim Eleanor’s kiss by midwinter! Yet when the tide turns Will realises vulnerable Eleanor is far too precious to gamble with. Can he win his lady before it’s too late?
Buy links
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wager-Widow-Mills-Boon-Historical-ebook/dp/B00VS0FV5U/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
 
https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-mills-boon-historical-1
 
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SFSZXXS
 
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wager-for-the-widow-1
 
 

New Book! Patrick: A Highlander Romance (Book 26 in The Ghosts of Culloden Moor series)

My next contribution to the Ghosts of Culloden Moor series is out!

I began writing in this series just over a year ago, drawn by the memory of a misty visit to Culloden Moor on an earlier trip to Scotland. 

Then, as now, the tragedies and hopes called to me, and I jumped at the chance LL Muir offered when she told me of her dream of a series that would put the ghosts to rest.

I hope you enjoy Patrick's story. Please read LL Muir's book, The Gathering, first as it gives the background to the subsequent stories.

The Gathering: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01049Y714
Patrick: https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01NBPDMAP