A Highlander in Her Past




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ISBN Digital: 978-1-61217-744-1
Page Count: 126
Word Count: 30958
Rating: Spicy(PG13)


How bad could one little spell be?

Trish Sullivan, archeologist and favorite aunt to the MacKay children, never thought she'd regret those words until Ramsay, the eldest MacKay lad, hurls them back to the 1400s with a botched transportation spell. Now she and Ramsay must find a way back before accidentally altering the past and unknowingly changing the future. That is, if Trish can survive the first trip across time without losing her life...or her heart.

What harm could come from a little soul-binding?

Proving his Highland honor alive and well, Maxwell Sullivan agrees to bind his soul to Trish's in order to save her life. But Highland honor isn't much help when Maxwell loses his heart in the bargain to the sassy woman headed back to the future.

Time Travel
Rating: Spicy
Page Count: 126
Word Count: 30958
978-1-61217-744-1 Digital

Excerpt:

Keagan's nose was itching. Maxwell recognized the ominous telltale sign. The boy's magic had shifted into the hell-bent surge of a warhorse spurred toward battle.

"All ye have to do is look. What harm could befall ye just by looking?" Keagan sat a bit straighter atop the stool while tapping a finger against the scrying disk. A conniving smile lit up his cherubic face as he eased the mirror closer to Maxwell.

Maxwell closed his eyes and scrubbed the roughened knuckles of one hand across his forehead. They needed to be done with this madness and get to the stables. The last thing he needed today was Faolan's surly remarks about always having to wait whenever he sent Maxwell to fetch his son. The pulsating tingle evaporated away from the base of his skull. Good. Maybe the boy realized he was in no mood for this foolishness.

With a relieved huff, Maxwell dropped his hand to his side and opened his eyes. God's beard. A startling image, a moving image, stared back at him from the highly polished scrying plate. Maxwell supported himself against the side of the table. As the woman winked then laughed, an uneasy weight of premonition settled in his gut. His gaze locked on the scrying plate, Maxwell lowered himself to a nearby stool.

Pushing an opened spell book and quill aside, Keagan chuckled as he propped his ink-smudged chin atop his folded hands. "She looks to be a fine woman. Do ye think?"

Maxwell glared at Keagan over the top of the mirror. "What have ye done, Keagan?"




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