Thursday, June 8, 2017

SPOTLIGHT: My Highlander Cover Model by @KarynGerrard #TimeTravel #Fantasy #HotHighlander

Skye Bancroft, assistant art director at a small New York publisher, is used to dealing with the occasional spoiled and egocentric model. After all, it’s part of her job description. But during a photoshoot, she didn’t count on one to become so delusional as to think himself a Highlander from 1814 Scotland.

Cailin Thorburn is every woman’s dream: A warrior who is fierce, passionate, and protective. Rendered unconscious during battle, he awakens in another place, time, and in another man’s body. Could this all be a dream? Convincing the bonnie lass, Skye, that he is Cailin is a daunting task.

Regardless of his strange time travel story and sexy Scottish burr, believing this extraordinary man is from another era becomes hard to deny. The attraction between them sizzles and Skye is left to wonder: Is Cailin truly as he claims?

Heat Level: Sensual

EXCERPT: “You doona believe me, do ye, Skye?”
Her gaze softened as if indulging a simple child. Pity he did not need or want. His temper boiled hot and furious as he tried to rein his frustrations. No bluidy luck. With a sweep of his arm he sent the platter of food crashing to the floor. The plate smashed to bits. He stood and pounded the table with such force, his glass tipped over. The fizzy drink—soda, she called it—dripped into a large pool on the floor.
“I am Cailin Thorburn! I doona understand how I came to be here or what my connection is to the lad or where he is. Do you think I want to be here?” He strode toward her. Grabbing her shoulders, he brought her to her feet. “Look into my eyes, lass. Do you see this Roderick you hold in such disdain? Amhairc fhéin cridhe. See my heart.” He snatched her wee hand and laid it on his chest and held it there. “Feel my heart, mo eudail.”
Her lower lip trembled. It was not his intent to scare the sweet lass. “What are you saying?” she gasped. “You spoke that language earlier….”
“’Tis the Gaelic, my mother’s tongue. I said before you are beautiful.” He cupped her cheek. “I called you my darlin’. Look into my eyes. Do ye see Roderick?”

* * *

How could she think straight when he gave her such an intense look? His eyes burned with passionate, green fire. He spoke Gaelic or what he claimed was Gaelic. Whatever, it was enough to squeeze her heart and curl her toes. He thought her beautiful? No man had ever said it to her before. Calling her “my darling” caused a few hot tears to cluster in the corner of her eyes.
Blinking back the gathering moisture, she did as he asked and looked deeply into his eyes. No, she didn’t see Roderick. She’d never claimed to know Roderick anyway. But what did it prove? When Skye stood close to him like this, she could easily believe anything he told her. Anything at all.
This house proved the opposite of what she’d thought Roderick was—an arrogant ass. Instead, she observed a cozy, tastefully decorated home with many pictures of family about and numerous books showing a mind that yearned to learn new things. The house was clean, his clothes neat and organized. Snooping in the kitchen, she found the herbs and spices lined up alphabetically in the cupboard. Coupled with his moments of sweetness like the one discussing the brooch, she became more and more convinced she may have misjudged Roderick.
All a man had to do was speak a little Gaelic to convince her he came from another time and another body? However, the sword came to life and it definitely vibrated. Hell, it had hummed. She hadn’t imagined it. When he regained consciousness, he was no longer Roderick. A stark reality.
“Do you want me to be truthful? I honestly don’t know what’s going on. I need more time to process this. No, I don’t see Roderick, but I’ve only had a few dealings with him. We weren’t close. When we gripped the sword, it vibrated and made a weird sound. Then it slipped from our hands and hit Roderick in the forehead.” Her fingers brushed by the small goose egg and Cailin moaned softly from her touch. “When he woke up, he was different. He was—you. I can’t completely dismiss it, but I can’t accept it all, either. I need time.”
With a sigh, he clasped her hand and kissed it. “Skye, I have a feeling time is the one thing I dinna have. Mayhap the sword is enchanted. But I feel in here,” his fist lowered to his solar plexus, “my time here is limited. This is no’ my body, no’ my life. I canna stay.”
His emotionally spoken words cut deep. She liked Cailin a lot, with his Scottish burr, searing kisses, and flash of temper. Truth? She would hate to see him go, whether he really came from 1814 or a figment from his own imagination as a result of the bonk on the head.
As if reading her mind, he let go of her hand and glanced at the mess on the floor. “I do have a spark of temper. Forgive my petulance. I will clean this up right away.”
Without thinking, she cupped his whiskered cheek. A husky moan escaped him as he leaned into her touch. Another wave of desire tore through her. “I’ll fix you another plate. I bought plenty.”
Laying his hand over hers, his gaze grew intense and concerned. “Did I scare ye, lass? I dinna mean to frighten you. I feel useless. By the honor of my family and clan, I will earn my keep while I am here. ’Tis grateful I am for your concern and care. You will tell me all about being a model, and I will do my best.”

Skye’s heart banged fiercely against her ribs. Comforting warmth spread through her sparking her nerve endings. She wasn’t falling for him, was she?


Barnes and Noble/KOBO/iTunes

Note: this title is a re-release that has been revised, re-edited and more than 8000 words added

Karyn Gerrard, born and raised in the Maritime Provinces of Eastern Canada, now makes her home in a small town in Northwestern Ontario. When she’s not cheering on the Red Sox or travelling in the summer with her teacher husband, she writes, reads romance, and drinks copious amounts of Earl Grey tea. 

 Even at a young age Karyn’s storytelling skills were apparent, thrilling her fellow Girl Guides with off-the-cuff horror stories around the campfire. A multi-published author, she loves to write sensual historicals, particularly in the Victorian era. She also writes contemporaries. Tortured heroes are an absolute must. 

 As long as she can avoid being hit by a runaway moose in her wilderness paradise she assumes everything is golden. Karyn’s been happily married for a long time to her own hero. His encouragement and loving support keeps her moving forward.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Due to the amount of spam comments I am turning moderation and word verification on~KG

© Site Design by Barbara