Spotlight & Giveaway: In Her Highlander’s Bed by Lynsay Sands

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Lynsay Sands to HJ!

Hi Lynsay and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, In Her Highlander’s Bed!

 
Hi Sara!
 

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

Kidnapped and forced into a fraudulent marriage, Allissaid MacFarlane risks everything to escape her abusive captor. In the buff and desperate, she attempts to steal a plaid but is accidentally knocked out when the owner, Calan Campbell, gives chase. Once Calan discovers who the thief is and the hell she’s gone through, he vows to protect her.
Forced together by circumstance, they slowly come to realize how much they enjoy one another’s company and Allissaid ends up stealing far more than Calan’s plaid.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

“Allie?”
Allissaid MacFarlane glanced up from the tunic she was darning as her younger sister Annis suddenly dropped into the chair next to hers in front of the fire in the great hall. Eyebrows rising slightly at her sister’s troubled expression, Allissaid asked, “What is it, love?”
Annis hesitated briefly, but then queried, “Now that Claray has married and moved to Deagh Fhortan with her husband, will you be taking over the running of MacFarlane?”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• The Campbells hate the MacNaughtons almost as much as the MacFarlanes do.
• The MacNaughtons have been raiding and stealing from the Campbells for years.
• MacNaughton trespassers looking for a “lost bride” on Campbell land met with some resistance, two of their soldiers lost their lives.
• The only reason Allissaid and Calan meet in the first place is because she tried to steal Calan’s plaid and he catches her. Later she steals it again when she attempts to leave Kilcairn incognito.
• Alick Buchanan is Allissaid’s cousin and shows up as her guardian in her father’s steed, a position which he uses to the max in Allissaid’s interests later on.
• It is clear that Calan respects his mother. It’s in the way he talks about her but especially when he asks her for advice on “bedding his innocent wife” (wow!)

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

Allissaid is surprised by his kindness and consideration of her and quickly finds herself drawn to Calan even after the recent abuse she sustained from Maldouen MacNaughton. That says a lot and means she came to trust and like Calan pretty quickly.

Calan finds the lass pretty right from the start, even with all the cuts, bumps and bruises covering her from head to toe. And when she describes what she went through and had to do to escape the MacNaughton, Calan is amazed by her bravery and cleverness.

But it’s when they’re forced to remain “laid up” in the same room together to heal that they get to know one another and realize how much they enjoy each other’s company that their feelings for one another bloom.
 

Using just 5 words, how would you describe your main characters”love affair?

Sweet, considerate, respectful, passionate, loving.
 

The First Kiss…

“’Tis fine.” Just those two little words on a puff of air, but her lips brushed his chin just to one side of and under his mouth, and he couldn’t resist turning his head and lowering it the fraction necessary to claim her lips. He meant it to be a soft brushing of his mouth over hers, just a taste of her. But when she didn’t pull away, or push at him to warn him off, Calan found himself rubbing his mouth against hers more firmly. When Allissaid sighed shakily against his mouth, he followed that up with a proper kiss, pressing his mouth firmly to hers and letting his tongue slide out to urge her lips apart.
Much to his relief, she hesitantly gave in to the demand and opened to him and . . . God in heaven! Kissing Allissaid was like getting a taste of heaven. She was warm, and sweet, her body softening and leaning into him. When he felt her arms creep around his shoulders and one hand cup the back of his neck, he let loose and deepened the kiss, drawing a moan from her that sent a charge of excitement whipping through his entire body . . . and then he lost himself in her. His tongue was thrusting, his lips demanding her response, and she gave it to him. Allissaid kissed him back with little skill at first, but an enthusiasm that did his heart good. However, she was a quick learner, and they were soon lost in a tangle of tongues and lips and need that died an abrupt death when the whoosh of the entrance being opened and light spilling into the passageway had them breaking apart.

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

This is just one of my favorite scenes but since I don’t want to give away too much, I chose this one… it illustrates just how much respect and consideration Calan has for not only his bride-to-be but also for his mother. Poor Calan. LOL

“What?”
Calan grimaced at his mother’s stunned and somewhat horrified expression. He and Alick had hammered out the contract quickly. Mostly because he’d basically just agreed to everything the other man had demanded he put in the contract. Not that the young Buchanan had been ridiculously demanding on Allissaid’s behalf. In fact, the contract seemed very fair to him. But at any rate, they’d finished the task quickly, both had signed it, and then he’d come to wake and warn his mother. She’d at first been alarmed at being woken in the middle of the night, thinking that something was amiss. But once he’d explained that he was waking her because he intended to marry Allissaid at once and thought she might like to witness it, she’d been surprisingly good about it all. His mother hadn’t even protested at the wedding taking place at once and at this hour. But then he suspected she was just relieved that he was taking a wife, and happy at the prospect of soon having grandbabies to spoil and coddle.
The woman had been nagging him for years about finding a new young woman to replace the lass he’d been betrothed to as a child, and he’d been ignoring her for just as long. He supposed she’d begun to fear he’d never marry, and while she’d suggested he marry Allissaid and he’d agreed to it, she probably wouldn’t stop worrying that it would never happen until it actually did. Now it would . . . Once he had this most uncomfortable conversation with his mother and fetched the priest.
“I asked fer yer advice in bedding Allissaid after the ceremony,” he repeated quietly, quite sure his face was flushing with the embarrassment he was feeling. Dear God, he was asking his mother for advice on bedding his soon-to-be bride. Who the hell did that? He was probably the only man in history to do it, he was sure. And even he wouldn’t be doing it if he could have asked anyone else. But aside from the men guarding the wall, the only man awake right now was Alick Buchanan, and he doubted the younger man had any more experience of virgins than he did. At least, he hoped not. Calan would lose all respect for the young man if he ran around despoiling virgins.
Shaking that thought from his mind, he focused on his mother and scowled when he saw that repeating the question did not seem to have cleared up things for her. She was still sitting in bed, blinking at him as if he was a stranger who’d just wandered into her room.
“Mother?” he asked impatiently.
“I’m sorry,” she said at once, sitting a little straighter in bed. “I just— Ha’e ye ne’er been with a lass, son?”
“What?” he gasped with horror.
“Well, I mean if ye do no’ ken how to go about the consummation—”
“I ken that part,” he barked with exasperation. “I’ve bedded lots o’ women, Mother.”
Well . . .” She shrugged. “There ye are then.”
“Nay. There I’m no’,” Calan countered grimly. “I’ve bedded lots o’ camp followers and such, Mother. Allissaid is untried, and the first time will be painful. How do I make it less so fer her so she does no’ come to fear or dislike the marriage bed?”
“Oh,” she said with sudden understanding and some relief. “I see. Aye, well—” She paused suddenly, to smile at him affectionately, and reached out to caress his cheek. “Ye’re so like yer father. Considerate and kind. Allissaid is lucky to ha’e ye fer husband, son.”
Calan silently ordered his body not to dare blush, and simply waited for her to give him the advice he was asking for. Much to his relief, she didn’t make him wait long. In fact, she threw back the linens and furs covering her, climbed out of bed in her nightshift and moved to one of her chests to begin pulling out clothing as she said, “Well, there’s really nothin’ ye can do to prevent her feeling pain. Although, no’ all lasses suffer a great deal o’ pain the first time. Some feel no pain at all.”
Calan was just brightening at the possibility that this might be the case for Allissaid, when she continued.
“By the same token, some feel terrible pain. The best ye can do is make sure she is well prepared fer it.” Pausing, she cast a frown at him over her shoulder. “Ye ken what I mean by well prepared, do ye no’? I do no’ have to explain that bit to ye, do I?”
“I understand,” he assured her dryly.
Nodding, she turned back to rummaging through her clothes, pulling out a clean chemise and then sorting through her gowns as she continued. “Well, make sure ye ha’e her good and worked up ere ye breach her, and then, afterward, I’d say make sure ye give her lots more pleasure to make her forget whatever pain the breachin’ might ha’e caused. That’s the best ye can do.”
Calan felt some of the tension that had been knotting his body since realizing he would soon be bedding Allissaid ease, and stood up. “Thank ye, Mother. I’ll leave ye to ready yerself and go fetch the priest.”
“Aye. I’ll head to yer room as soon as I’m dressed,” she responded distractedly, holding up a gown for consideration.
He was just opening the door when she said, “And son?”
Pausing, he glanced back. “Aye.”
“I ken she’ll make ye a good wife. The two o’ ye will ha’e a happy marriage.”
Calan merely nodded. He was pretty sure of that himself.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include?

This is just after Calan’s mother sees and recognizes Allissaid and Calan must explain to her why he’s keeping Allissaid (who he knows as Eara but mistakenly suspects is Allissaid’s sister, Claray) locked away in his bedchamber. It’s a dramatic scene as Allissaid is explaining how she escaped the Maldouen, sprinkled with rather amusing moments.

“Ashamed as I am to admit it, I fear I stole his plaid,” Allissaid confessed with a guilty grimace.
“Borrowed it,” Calan countered at once with a faint smile, and then noting the interest on his mother’s face as she looked at him, he killed the smile and finished the tale for Allissaid. “I spotted what I thought was a lad making off with me plaid and rushed out o’ the water to give chase. I ran him down in the woods, and tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground. Unfortunately, he hit his head as he fell and was knocked unconscious. It was no’ quite dawn yet, and dark in the trees. It was no’ until I carried him out o’ the woods and back to the beach that I realized he was a woman.”
“And carrying her is how ye split yer stitches again,” his mother said with much more understanding than she’d shown that morning when she’d noticed that he’d burst another stitch. Apparently, she didn’t mind so much if it was to save this lass.
“Aye,” he admitted without regret. “I probably would ha’e lost a couple more had I had to get her up on me horse and carry her back here. Fortunately, Gille arrived in search o’ me after I’d finished putting me shirt on her, and donning me plaid. He helped me with her, and he is the one who carried her up here to me room.”
“I ne’er saw—” his mother began with a frown, and then paused and guessed, “The passage.”
Calan nodded. “I’d noted the ring she wears, so I kenned she was a lady. But she was wet, unconscious and wearing only me shirt. Bringing her through the bailey and great hall fer everyone to see did no’ seem a good idea.”
“Definitely no’. That would ha’e ruined the poor lass,” his mother said grimly, and then turned back to Allissaid to ask, “But ye said ye’d walked fer hours between leaving the loch and encountering me son. Why were ye wet still? Surely ye should ha’e dried off by the time ye stumbled on Calan?”
“Well, the first time I got out o’ the water and started to walk, I’d no’ gone ten feet when I heard horses approaching. Kenning it would be MacNaughton’s men looking fer me, I rushed back to the water and submerged meself, leaving only me face on the surface until they passed. That decided me to stick close to the water and walk the shoreline afterward. It was harder to walk on the sand and shingle than walking in the woods would ha’e been, but it seemed safer. That way I could slip into the water anytime I heard horses approaching,” she explained.
Calan stared at the lass, amazed at her cleverness. Her pale, naked body would have been like a beacon in the woods. But no one, including his warriors on patrol, would have paid much attention to the loch other than a quick scan in search of boats in the water, and men or warriors on horseback on the beach. They wouldn’t even have noticed a face that had probably barely been an inch above the surface of the water.
“I had to get back in the water just minutes before I spotted Calan swimming, and tried to take his plaid,” Allissaid added. “Thinking on it now, it was probably him and this Gille he mentioned who rode by that time.”
“Most like,” Calan agreed.
“Who tended yer wounds, love?” his mother asked now, reaching up to brush her fingers over the bandage on her head.
“Inghinn,” she answered before Calan could intervene, and he sighed when his mother frowned at this news.
Turning another scowl his way, she asked, “Ye told yer sister that Allissaid was here and ye did no’ tell me?”
“I did no’ tell Inghinn,” he said calmly. “She walked into me bedchamber and saw her.”
That only brought a deeper scowl from his mother and the question, “Why did ye no’ tell me?”
Calan shrugged. “I did no’ ken what kind o’ trouble she was in and who had done this to her. It seemed best no’ to let anyone ken she was here until she remembered who she was and what had happened so I would ken where the threat lay.”
“Well, I was no threat!” his mother snapped.
“Nay. But ye were in the great hall, and the hall is always busy and full o’ people. I did no’ want anyone to overhear.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. “I see. So it had naught to do with the worry that I might make ye remove her from yer room and—” She stopped abruptly, and frowned before suddenly asking, “What do ye mean until she remembered? Did she no’ remember anything when she first woke up?”
“Good question,” Calan said dryly, and turned arched eyebrows to Allissaid. “Lass?”
The guilty flush that covered her face gave him the answer before she admitted to his mother, “Aye, I remembered everything. But I let yer son and daughter think I did no’ because I was no’ sure who they were and whether they were friendly with MacNaughton and therefore a threat to me.”
“Well, surely once ye realized they were me son and daughter, ye kenned ye’d be safe here,” his mother said with amazement.
“Aye, but I did no’ realize ye were their mother until I saw ye standing in the door to this room just minutes ago,” she explained. “I did no’ recognize Inghinn as the wee lass, Ginny, who used to come with me mother’s dear friend to visit and always disappeared to play with me little sister, Arabella.” She looked uncertain and then asked, “Inghinn is wee Ginny is she no’?”
“Aye,” his mother assured her with a smile.
Smiling wryly in return, Allissaid nodded and told her, “I do no’ think I e’er heard her called Inghinn. She was always just called Ginny at MacFarlane.”
“Aye. She preferred Ginny as a child, but once she got older, she felt her full name, Inghinn, was more dignified,” his mother explained.
“I still find it hard to believe Inghinn is Ginny,” Allissaid said wryly. “She’s grown so.”
“Oh, aye,” his mother said with a faint smile. “She used to be such a skinny little waif, and still was the last time we visited. She shot up a good six inches the year yer dear mother fell ill and we had to stop going to MacFarlane.” Shaking her head, she added, “Inghinn got Eve’s curse then too, and gained her figure as well. Her bosoms seemed to sprout out nearly overnight, and goodness, she was so uncomfortable with them at first.”
Calan found himself sinking into horror as his mother shared these fond reminiscences. He suddenly wanted to stick a sgian dubh in each ear to deafen himself so he wouldn’t have to listen. He had no desire to hear about his sister’s breasts sprouting or her getting her courses. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t have either. Which even he had to acknowledge was ridiculous. Of course, he’d noticed that she’d gained curves, and he supposed he’d known in some part of his mind that she must menstruate as all women did, but Inghinn wasn’t a woman to him, she was his sister.
Blinking, he forced his attention warily back to his mother. “Aye?”

Readers should read this book …

The biggest thing is I want my readers to get lost in the story enough that they can leave their stress and anxiety behind.
Also, this is a story about the resilience and strength of the human spirit in the most dire of circumstances and is a great example of how even the darkest day can give way to better ones.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I just finished the major edits on Book #36 of the Argeneau series. This story is about one of Valerian’s charming cousins, Alasdair MacKenzie, and a new character to the scene, Sophie. This story starts a little differently than most. Sophie comes as another immortal’s date (Tybo) to a family wedding but Marguerite recognizes Sophie as a potential life mate for Alasdair. (Lucian is definitely not happy about potentially losing another enforcer to life mate brain drain, but destiny is destiny! LOL)

I am currently working on book #12, the story after In Her Highlander’s Bed. The story isn’t done yet so I can’t say much other than it involves an unexpected character from the past in the Highland Brides series. (I find myself a bit contrary at times and if I give away too many details, and saying anything at this point is too much, then I might set myself up to stall before I really even get started. Sigh)

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

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Excerpt from In Her Highlander’s Bed:

“Nay, Calan. Ye can no’ carry that chest, ye’ll split yer stitches again.”
Allissaid turned her gaze from where Inghinn and Lady Fiona were making up the bed with fresh linens to the large ginger-haired man named Gille as he set down the chest he’d just carried to the door, and rushed back across the room to take away the one Calan had picked up.
When Calan scowled at him, the other man clucked with irritation and pointed out, “’Sides, someone might see ye, and yer need to rest and heal is the reason no one’s supposed to be enterin’ yer room to see the lass here.” When Gille nodded in her direction as he said this and Calan looked her way, Allissaid flushed with embarrassment and turned quickly away.
“Very well. I’ll no’ carry anything heavy,” Calan said with resignation and Allissaid glanced back in time to see the scowl slide off his face.
The other man nodded. “Good.” He headed for the door with the chest, and then swung back, “Can ye get the—?”
“Aye,” Calan interrupted dryly. “I’ll get the door since that’s all I’m good fer at the moment.”
“Thank ye.”
“I suppose I’d best come with ye to open the other door as well,” Calan offered.
“Aye,” Gille said and then hesitated before adding, “But try to look sickly and weak while in the hall.”
“Sickly and weak?” Calan asked with amazement.
“Aye. I ken that’ll be hard fer a big brute like you, but do yer best anyway,” Gille teased cheerfully and sailed out with the heavy chest, leaving a scowling Calan to follow.
Allissaid shook her head as the door closed behind the pair, and turned a concerned gaze to Lady Fiona and Inghinn.
“M’lady, this is really unnecessary,” she protested again, simply unable to help herself. “There’s no need fer ye to give up yer bedchamber to Calan just to put me closer to the garderobe. I can walk there easily on me own. I did it last night and could ha’e done it again this last time. I’ll be fine.”
Allissaid didn’t miss the glance Lady Fiona exchanged with her daughter before she set down the linens they’d been stretching over the bed, and crossed the room to her. She didn’t understand that look, but didn’t get the chance to sort it out. She was distracted when Calan’s mother took her hands and squeezed them gently. “Ye may be able to walk, child, but ye should no’ be doing it. Or at least, ye should no’ be sitting up and lying[TSW1] back down under yer own power. The MacNaughton gave ye a terrible beating. I suspect the muscles in yer stomach were damaged by it. Resting them for a week, or e’en more, is the best thing to help them recover, and that means no’ using them. Which means Calan’ll ha’e to carry ye to the garderobe repeatedly[TSW2] , day and night. ’Twill definitely be easier on him from here. ’Tis much closer to the garderobe.”
“Calan should no’ be carrying me. He’ll burst his stitches,” she reminded her, unsure why Lady Fiona no longer seemed to be concerned about that. “I can walk. And, honestly, the distance is no’ a problem. As I said, I walked there from his chamber last night and had no issue making it on me own two feet,” Allissaid pointed out with exasperation. “Besides, I can no’ stay lying[TSW3] down for a day, let alone a week. I’ll need the garderobe several times a day.”
“Aye, but if ye stay sitting up during the day, sleep in a sitting position at night, and let Calan carry ye to the garderobe and back in that same position, ye’ll no’ be using yer stomach muscles.”
Allissaid rolled her eyes at the comment, and assured her, “I’ll be using them. I had to straighten up and stand after he set me down in the garderobe and left to wait in the hall with ye. I was sitting on me chemise, I could no’ use the garderobe that way,” she explained. “And then I had to stand again when I finished me business. There is just no way around ha’ing to use me stomach muscles on occasion.”
“Oh.” She scowled slightly at this news.
“There’s also the issue o’ yer being seen,” Inghinn put in when Lady Fiona seemed dumbfounded. “Being in this chamber reduces the likelihood o’ someone seeing ye from the great hall. Calan’s bedchamber is easily visible from there, while this one is no’. ’Tis safer.”
“Exactly!” Lady Fiona said with obvious relief. “Being seen would be bad. We may ha’e MacNaughton spies here too.”
Allissaid narrowed her gaze as she peered from Calan’s mother to his sister. It wasn’t that she doubted that they were right about the reduced risk of her being seen slipping to the garderobe from the master’s chamber. That was true enough, but the exchanged glances, and odd relief and such were making her terribly suspicious that there was more to this sudden desire to see her and Calan in this room rather than his.
Lady Fiona took in her expression, and grimaced. “Very well, there are other reasons too. For one, yer presence here at Kilcairn and his need to protect ye is the only way we’re likely to get Calan to sit in one spot long enough fer his wound to heal properly, and it really needs to heal. I fear if he does no’ do this, it’ll eventually get infected and perhaps take his life.”
Allissaid relaxed a little at this explanation. She could understand her concern. The risk of infection was no joke, and the longer it took to heal, the longer the risk of infection remained. Still . . . “I understand that, m’lady, but he can heal in his bedchamber as easily as here in yer chamber.”
“Aye, but—I was thinkin’ mayhap a nice warm bath may help yer aches and pains, and here the pavilion offers ye more privacy fer a bath than it would in his chamber where we’d just ha’e to trust in his keeping his back turned,” she pointed out.
Allissaid’s eyes widened and shifted to the tub inside its pavilion. She would certainly be more comfortable taking a bath inside there rather than in a tub brought up and set in a corner of Calan’s chamber where she had to trust that he wouldn’t peek. Not that she thought he would, but she would be anxious the whole time that he might unthinkingly glance over or something.
“Besides,” Lady Fiona said now, “whether he carries ye or ye walk, it really is much more convenient to get to the garderobe from here. I’d feel horrible if the MacNaughton got wind o’ yer presence here because the wrong person saw ye leaving Calan’s chamber to make yer way to the garderobe. Being in this chamber’ll much reduce the risk o’ that happening.”
Pausing, she slid her gaze around the room, and then murmured, “I really should ha’e moved out o’ this chamber when me husband died and Calan became laird. ’Tis his right to ha’e it. I just was no’ ready at the time and he was no’ bothered about it, so I stayed. But I shall ha’e to move out eventually and give it o’er to him. This seems as good a time as any.” Turning back, she smiled softly and added, “I’m ready.”
The last word had barely left her mouth when the door opened and Calan led Gille into the room. Calan was still scowling as he held the door for Gille to carry in one of his own chests from the other room. He obviously wasn’t pleased to be delegated to door opener while his friend did the heavy lifting, but he probably would have lost another stitch to the endeavor were he to be lugging the heavy chests about. Besides, she knew the only reason they’d been able to convince him not to help with moving his mother’s things to his old chamber, and his to this one was because of her presence and the need to act like he had agreed to rest as an excuse for him to be up here all the day long with her without servants or soldiers coming to see him.
“Thank ye,” Gille said as Calan closed the door behind him. “But that scowl yer wearing really does no’ make ye look the weak, ailing man at death’s door we were hoping fer. Ye should work on that.”
Calan’s responding growl could barely be heard over the other man’s laughter as he set down the chest.
The removal of Lady Fiona’s hands from hers brought her attention back around to see the two women returning to the bed to continue making it, and Allissaid sighed with resignation. It seemed they were switching rooms.

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

An invigorating swim in the loch was exactly what Calan Campbell, Laird of Kilcairn, needed after defeating his enemies in battle. What he didn’t need was a thief running away with his plaid while he swam. Calan gave chase and managed to catch the lad, only the lad turned out to be a lass, and obviously a lady. Having hit her head when he’d tackled her to the ground, the woman was now unconscious and couldn’t explain how she had ended up bruised and naked in his woods. He’d have to take her back to his castle and tend her wounds to learn that.
Kidnapped and forced to wed her clan’s enemy, Allissaid MacFarlane had risked death to escape. But after a struggle over a plaid she tried to “borrow,” she awakens in a strange bed with a strange man seated in a chair beside her. Unsure if he is friend or foe, she claims not to remember her own name or how she’d come to be in the clearing. However, the more time she spends with Calan, the more she falls for this strong, honorable laird. She soon decides she can trust him with her life. . . but can she trust him with her heart?
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