Spotlight & Giveaway: Never Cross a Highlander by Lisa Rayne

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Lisa Rayne to HJ!

Hi Lisa Rayne and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Never Cross a Highlander!

 
Greetings, I’m so excited to share with you here on Harlequin Junkie!
 

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

They call him Auld Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil. While carrying out a secret mission, this fierce warrior inadvertently kidnaps a feisty servant lass. As they make their way back to the Highlands, the heat of their mutual animosity–and attraction–burns hotter by the mile.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Ailsa Connery’s life depended on the view from Princess Elizabeth’s balcony. Her young charge, the second child born to King James VI, had chambers that bordered an inner corner of Stirling Castle. The location of the princess’s rooms gave the best angle to view the entire royal courtyard and the approach to the castle’s single outer gate.

“Elizabeth!” She rushed into the lass’s sleeping nook. “Hurry! The clans begin to arrive for the tournament. You do not want to miss the sight. It shall be grand.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• By buying this book, readers will own a piece of history! Kallum MacNeill is the first Black Highlander hero for the romance industry. I hadn’t thought much about this when I started writing the story. All I knew was I loved Highlander romances but hadn’t personally ever come across one featuring a Black hero. Now that the book is out and many readers have expressed the same to me and their thrill at getting to read a book featuring a Black Highlander, I understand what a milestone experience the publication and reading of this book represents.
• NEVER CROSS A HIGHLANDER was only supposed to be the working title for the novel. I had plans to come up with something I thought more pithy or apt. However, the graphics team did the cover mockup with this title and once I saw the cover art, I was hooked. In fact, a few of the hero’s character traits evolved during the writing of the story specifically due to his nature solidifying to meet the expectations of personality and tone set by that title.
• The heroine, Ailsa Connery, originally had a different surname. As I worked to get into the tone and voice of these characters, I spent several days watching interviews and film clips of Sir Sean Connery, one of my all-time favorite actors. When I was done, I decided to change the heroine’s last name to Connery. Sadly, only a few days after I made the change, the Scottish actor passed on. His passing cemented the rightness of my updated clan name, as I consider it a homage of sorts.
• The updated cover almost had a couple on it. Whew! Dodged a bullet on that one. Can you imagine replacing that strapping, Black warrior with a couple featuring a heroine in a long dress? Neither could I. So when my publishing team suggested changing the cover art from a solo guy to a couple for marketing purposes, I lobbied to keep my guy. Thankfully, they listened. Authors with traditional publishers don’t always get a say in these things, and even when we do, we’ve no guarantee our opinion will win out. We updated the initial guy a bit, but all in all, we kept all the yumminess of the initial artwork.
• Kallum, our hero, hates the MacGregor clan. In one scene of the book, he fiercely bashes the honor and integrity of that clan. I have a writer friend who has a Highlander romance series in which the heroes are MacGregors. When she was reading an advance copy of my book, she got so worked up after reading that scene she began texting me in defense of the MacGregors (who she claims were “totally misunderstood”). LOL!! We joke about turning our dispute into a podcast series. Who knows. Stay tuned!

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

Our heroine is drawn to the hero despite herself initially because of his innately virile presence. It starts as a purely physical attraction. Ailsa’s not at all a fan of Kallum’s personality. Think enemies-to-lovers here. He’s messed up her escape plan by inadvertently intercepting her, and he initially refuses to help her get back home. But regardless of this animus, Ailsa’s hormones are pinging all over the place!

At the outset, Kallum finds Ailsa brash and annoying, but her apparent lack of fear when faced with his gruff annoyance earns his admiration and respect. Her fearlessness, strength, and determination are what draw him in initially, and from there he begins to fall helplessly in love with her despite himself.
 

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

Hotbed of defiance and lust.
 

The First Kiss…

During one part of the characters’ journey, they must ride together because they have only one horse. Ailsa falls asleep in Kallum’s arms. When she slowly awakens later, she unconsciously begins to bunt her cheek against the lower portion of Kallum’s beard, much like an adoring feline. The incident puts a match to the mutual attraction that’s been kindling between them as they travel. Kallum is so roused by the innocent act, he drops his lips to hers and kisses her slowly, thoroughly until they’re near ready to have a go on the back of his steed. I’ve given you all a sneak peek at this scene below.

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

I cannot share my favorite scene in the book without revealing spoilers, but there is another scene in the story I love for what it reveals about our hero. When Ailsa wanders off for some privacy, a frustrated–and very worried Kallum–goes looking for her. When he finally finds her, his reaction to the sight he encounters causes him to allow his sword to strike the rocky ground. We know from some of his earlier dialogue that he would consider such negligent treatment of a sword completely unacceptable. This is our first clear indication that this strong warrior is completely enthralled by Ailsa and he’s finally beginning to recognize the danger this poses for him (and possibly his carefree heart):

He cleared the trees, and the sight that greeted him nearly felled him to his knees.

Ailsa stood knee deep in the water, wet from the neck down. She had removed her smock but still wore a linen chemise, mayhap out of caution should she be discovered during her bath. The lightweight material was soaked clean through and clung to every curve and angle of her plump back side. The material had gone gossamer and allowed the nudeness of her ravishing brown complexion to glow through as if not covered at all. She looked like some ancient goddess of the forest bathing amongst the foliage of her kingdom.

“Sweet, Jesu,” he uttered without conscious thought.

The roar of the waterfall should have covered the soft utterance, but the din of his sword tip carelessly scraping the rock at his foot reverberated over the pond’s surface. He glanced down in shock at the treacherous hand that had allowed such sacrilege to occur, and Ailsa dropped low in the water upon seeing she was no longer alone. Her wide eyes found him on the bank while her long braid bobbed behind her on the surface of the water.

The dark tips of her breasts hovered just above the water line and showed visibly through the drenched material of her chemise. The russet brown of her nipples, beaded from the kiss of cold water, beckoned him with a silent song more powerful than any siren who’d ever beckoned a sailor. Kallum could not shake off the thought that the entreaty would also prove just as deadly.

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

This book includes several great friendships. Kallum’s best friend is also his cousin, Inan. Kallum also has a cousin named Caitrin, Inan’s sister. Ailsa, who has always been a loner, develops a closeness with Caitrin, but she and Inan form an instant and lasting dislike of each other. A key scene in the book occurs when these four characters interact. Kallum and Inan come upon Ailsa and Caitrin together. Inan’s not too thrilled with this and insults Ailsa. When Ailsa gets back at him with an impertinent ruse, it leads to a funny little interlude (excerpt included below) and ultimately, the first tender moment between our hero and heroine. I feel this scene and what comes after should be included in the movie version of the book because they are key to understanding connections between these characters that have implications for the remainder of the storyline. [Note for excerpt: Ogun is the name of Kallum’s horse.]

“What’s going on here.” Inan’s voice intruded on the moment of bonding between Ailsa and Caitrin.

“Ugh,” Ailsa groaned quietly over Caitrin’s shoulder.

Caitrin giggled, knowing how much Ailsa and Inan despised each other.

Ailsa turned to find Inan sitting on his mount beside a mounted Kallum. Ugh, ugh, ugh! Not both of them. Could a lass not get a day of peace?

Ailsa let her voice drop into a sing-song cadence and, mimicking the accent of her grandmother, said, “What does it look like I’m doing, Inan MacNeil? I am binding your sister so I can conjure a spell that will put a curse on the progeny of the house of MacNeil.”

Inan glared at her.

Caitrin slapped a hand over her mouth to control the laughter threatening to burst free. Ailsa continued her ruse and began to speak in Yoruba, moving her hands around ominously and allowing her voice to take on a creepy edge. She recited nothing but an ancient West African tale, but Inan did not know that. His horrified expression gave her much satisfaction.

Recognizing Ailsa’s ploy from the story she’d told him about her mother pretending to put a curse on villagers when she got tired of their antics, Kallum found nothing amusing about Ailsa’s performance. “Ailsa,” he snapped with a warning tone.

Ailsa ignored him. She took a step toward Ogun and, with her hands still waving, continued her otherworldly recitation to include Kallum.

Inan forced his horse to walk backward away from her. “The lass is a sorceress as well as a Connery? Caitrin, step away from her this instant!”

Ignoring Inan’s comments, Kallum issued another sharp rebuke. “Ailsa!”

“What!” she snapped back, once again speaking in English. “Go away. Both of you.” She issued Inan a glare of her own afore focusing on Kallum. “Can I not get one day of respite from your constant presence? You’re driving me daft, MacNeill.”

Ailsa wandered closer to the stream’s edge and stepped onto a large boulder embedded in the bank. Facing the water, she released a loud, angsty scream. All her frustration poured into the disgruntled squall. The sound echoed across the lazy currents, even over the constant din of the falls nearby.

She turned back to the others in time to see Inan dismount his horse and give Kallum a look of concern afore he took hold of his sister and pulled Caitrin farther away from Ailsa.

Insulted, Ailsa wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger she had belted out of sight under her overdress. She could gift the world with one less MacNeill today.

Readers should read this book …

…because it’s an action-adventure romantic ride that’ll give readers thrills, laughs, and still deliver all the feels.

I think the review in Publishers Weekly says it best:

“Rayne meets all the expectations of Highland romance while bringing in a unique perspective that makes things feel fresh and exciting. Readers are sure to fall just as hard for the page-turning adventure as they will for the swoonworthy Kallum MacNeill.”

I’d like to think that’s all true. 🙂

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

I’m currently working on the sequel to NEVER CROSS A HIGHLANDER (book two of “The Shadow Lairds” series). The second book in the series is scheduled to release in December of 2023. I’ve got a few surprises for some of your favorite characters from book one (Kallum, Ailsa, and Inan will be back) and many new fun characters to introduce.

I’m also working on a cowboy historical romance set in the American Old West. This book, A GUNSLINGER TO TAME, features a cranky, aging gunslinger who’s ready to settle into retirement only to have his peace and quiet destroyed by the citified broad set on turning the local saloon she inherited into the bane of his existence.

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: I’m giving away two signed paperbacks of NEVER CROSS A HIGHLANDER to two lucky readers in the continental U.S. Any international winner will receive an ebook copy of the novel.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: I love a good enemies-to-lovers story. The thrill of watching how animosity turns into unbidden attraction then love makes reading these stories so much fun. What do you like (or perhaps dislike) about the enemies-to-lovers trope?

 
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Excerpt from Never Cross a Highlander:

Ailsa looked away from the angry annoyance on the MacNeill’s face. She’d gotten the upper hand in this matter. Primarily because she knew his sense of honor would not allow him to let her fall when dismounting the horse. That sense of honor did not mean he was not upset with her. Mayhap, it made him more so. She sensed he hated that she had figured out how to use his personal code against him.

All truth, she was surprised by how much she enjoyed vexing him. Something about this man brought out the contrariness in her. The tension between them as he tried to control her, and she fought not to be controlled, evoked some of the headiest emotions she had ever felt. Not that she had never faced off against a dominant male, but something about Kallum MacNeill was different.

Something about the way she felt around him was different.

She spread the cut in his tunic wide enough to glance inside at the wound. The slash across his skin was long but did not appear deep from this angle. To be sure, she needed a closer look.

“Remove your tunic for me.” She glanced up into his eyes, and the intensity that met hers sent an unfamiliar frolic of emotions through her.

He eyed her without movement, but ’twas not merely obstinance that held him immobile. Her request, though innocent, suggested other possibilities.

Ignoring the charged moment, Ailsa directed him to focus on the task at hand. “I need a closer look, MacNeill. The wound looks not deep enough to need stitching, but to be certain, I must view it without your garment in place.”

The MacNeill understood her request for what it was. His piercing sable eyes nonetheless displayed an awareness of the more forward implications of her request. After the briefest hesitation, his voice rasped with an edge borne of aught other than annoyance. “We do not have time for this.”

Her healer’s mien of authority took over and her hands went to her hips. “Then stop wasting dayight and do what I ask.”

His eyes tracked the placement of her hands, and something flickered in his eyes afore he pulled off his tunic with a barely visible grimace she was meant not to see. She decided not to mention the grimace and ignore what looked suspiciously like amusement at her expense.

Instead, she touched her hand lightly to his side. His abdomen flinched inward at her touch, but he made no sound.

“Aye, ’tis not deep, but I would clean and wrap it afore we ride on.” She glanced at his face again.

All irritation had left his gaze and been replaced by something more visceral. He glanced at her hand, which still rested on his side, and swallowed noticeably. A new tension surfaced, something that had very little to do with vexation. And there it was again, that shiver of emotion that left her unbalanced and vulnerably raw in a manner she’d never experienced in all her seasons of life. Through all the conflict and verbal sparring and hostility that pinged between them simmered a temptation, a heated draw, that made everything female in her want to surface and be bold.

Her gaze remained imprisoned by his, and without conscious thought, her fingers traced down the path of grooves outlining his defined abdomen. The feel was totally different from the bony angles and soft middle of the runt who had groped her earlier. The planes of Kallum’s skin were ridged with several raised scars, a testament to his many battles.

’Twas enticing to be this close to such strength, strength she had counted on with unfailing confidence to untangle her assailant from her afore he did more than grope at her breasts. She had survived such groping on more than one occasion. ’Twas nothing she had not prepared herself to endure whilst living as a captive, and ’twas nothing she could not handle, though the callous treatment never ceased to anger her.

When her hand reached the trio of muscles that made a horizontal line beneath the MacNeill’s navel, she looked down to watch her hand as it slid along the ridged path and paused to trace a pucker that suggested he’d been stabbed in the stomach sometime past.

His abdomen went concave as he hissed in a breath and caught her hand. “Anne.”

Her eyes flicked to his. He had called her that earlier. It had hit her odd to hear him call her by name for the first time and use the wrong one. The mistake made sense, for that was what he had heard her called by the king. It had never occurred to her that he knew her only by that name. Her enslaved name. A name she never wanted to hear again.

“’Tis not my name,” her voice near purred with a breathiness she’d never heard from herself.

His hand tightened minutely around hers at the seductive tone of her revelation then his head tilted in confusion.

“’Tis what they decided to call me after my capture. My given name, my true name, is Ailsa.”

He reached up with his other hand and pushed his fingers into the base of her loose braid, messy and barely still plaited after all she had been through in the past days. “Aye. Makes sense.”

Her eyes questioned his meaning.

“Anne did not suit you.” With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer. “Ailsa. ’Tis a strong name. One more fitting a brave Highland lass such as yourself.”

Warmth spread through her, and she stared at him in amazement. He thought her brave? The longing, the reverence, in his eyes made her feel desired and significant in a way she’d never known. They stood so close the heat of his skin seeped to her, through her, and his intent to kiss her showed clearly on his face.

Oh, how she wanted his kiss.

He thought her brave! She near trembled at the thrill that a warrior such as he thought her worthy of his admiration, not just his lust.

This morn had come with challenges she could ill imagine facing—or surviving—on this trek without the MacNeill at her side. The urge to lean into his strength and allow him to replace every bad kiss she’d ever received with one that would make her feel like a woman and not like a possession near overwhelmed her. ’Twas not proper these feelings. Nor was this the right timing or place for them to give in to this pull she had felt between them from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. They needed to be mindful of their surroundings and leave this place as soon as possible. So when his head eased lower, she broke eye contact and looked down to avoid a meeting of lips she was unsure she could survive unscathed.

Her forehead landed temporarily against his bare chest, and her breath stuttered uneasily from her lungs.

Kallum’s hand disengaged from the hair at her nape, brushed lightly over her head, then dropped gently to her back. He drew small circles against the fabric of her dress in a reassuring caress and waited in silence while she gathered herself. Her hand quivered against his warm, scar-adorned skin a breath—or ten—then she fisted her hand at her side and pulled away, happy that her head had blocked his view of the prior trembling of her fingers.

“I need to attend your wound,” she finally said.

“Aye.” No censure or annoyance entered his tone.

Surprised, she looked up. She had expected him to be upset with her avoidance of his advance. She had been the one, this time, to slip them over the edge of propriety.

His lips forged a wry tilt on one side, but his eyes stayed fervent and consuming. “You may want to keep your hands from wandering past the area of the wound, then,” he said, his deep voice laced with dark innuendo.

She dipped her head, fighting back the blush she could feel rising. “I’ll need to clean the wound then wrap it. ’Twill not take long.”

She grabbed his waterskin from the horse, cleaned the wound, then ripped a few strips from the torn dress she’d changed out of to wrap around his midsection. Once that was done, he replaced his sliced tunic, put her back on the mare, and mounted behind her.

They rode without speaking. Their almost kiss left a quiet tension between them that lent nervous anticipation to Ailsa’s journey. He wanted to kiss her. He would kiss her one day. ’Twas not a matter of if. More like a matter of when. And the more she thought about that impending kiss, the more she struggled between the lure of a maiden’s burgeoning desires and the urge to run and hide.

She’d unknowingly awakened a sultry beast, and she knew not how to handle such an animal.

Hold her own in a battle of wits? Aye.

Fell a rabbit with a shot from a bow? Aye. Well, once she was back in practice.

But illicit encounters between a man and a woman? She had no skill at that.

She had no experience with consensual carnality between a male and female, and propriety mandated that, as an unmarried lass, she should not think on such unseemly affairs.

Marriage factored not into her plans. Accordingly, the social rules that applied to her intended station in life dictated she stay a chaste, singlewoman or enter an abbey or some such. She certainly had no intention of entering an abbey. She had a hard enough time embracing the teachings of a Church that ignored, even justified, the enslavement of an entire people. No need to be that much of a hypocrite.

Did that mean she would never know the passion between a man and a woman?

Many females decried the act as painful and not worth the trouble. Those who believed in love matches oft told a different tale. She knew not which ones to believe.

And, if she indulged, whether the experience be pleasing or horrid, would that make her naught but a whore?

Her mother told her much about what went where and why when a man sought his pleasure, but never mentioned repeated pain or unappealing couplings. Ailsa got the sense that her mother’s memories of times with Ailsa’s sire were anything but unpleasant. In fact, those very memorable liaisons caused many to label her mother a whore. ’Twas not what Ailsa had thought or believed of her mother. ’Twas not a designation her mother had accepted or allowed to shame her or make her cower from public life.

If Ailsa were to live her life on her own terms as her mother had, she must be prepared to leave off the opinions others might have of her. In which case, if she were to consider testing the boundaries of mating, ’twas mayhap best to engage in such matters of the flesh with a man she did not find amiable—a man like the MacNeill—so that amorous emotions were not at risk.

Liar. Her brain called foul on her classification of her feelings for the MacNeill as non-congenial, but she shut it down. Whatever feelings of amity she thought she lacked for the warrior, she could not deny he was easily the most virile man she’d ever met—tall, braw, and strong.

And foul tempered.

She glanced over her shoulder to check his expression. He stared back at her, that sliced brow peaked in curiosity, lips tilted at one edge in arrogant tease.

Except when he wasn’t. And when he wasn’t, he was devastating to her senses.

That lazy smirk sent a tingle through her, and the feel of his muscled arms surrounding her as they rode made her feel not only safe but heated from her center down through the tips of her toes.

She was not so simple as to believe that the act of loving equated to the emotion love. She need not succumb to the latter to indulge in the first. The question was whether she wanted to indulge in the first, and if she did, was the MacNeill the man she dared indulge with?

The dilemma perplexed her through most of their ride for the day until she finally dozed off in his arms.

* * *

Kallum nudged Ailsa to wake her. She snuggled deeper into his arms, not wanting to be roused. She made a contented sound and rubbed the side of her face against his beard. He went immobile at her nuzzle, shock and desire coursing through him.

While he held himself taut, she did it again, bunting against him like a contented feline. Visions flooded him of what it might be like to have her nuzzle against him this way when they were both fully nude and stretched out on a bed, skin to skin. His hold on her tightened.

’Twas his tightening embrace that finally made her eyes flutter open. She looked up at him. Her cheek still rested against him in such a way that her skin brushed the edge of his chin when her head moved. She hummed lightly, seemingly enjoying the feel of his facial hair against her soft skin. Her lips lifted then she was the one to go immobile. The reality of what she had done flitted across her face along with a wash of embarrassment.

The embarrassment did not last. The look in her eyes shifted, and a pulsing curiosity took its place. He’d seen the same curiosity in her expression when she’d traced the scars on his stomach this morn. Daringly, she lifted her hand and rubbed her palm against the opposite side of his face. He did not move, waiting to see what she would do next.

Her hand traced his beard to the base of his ear and slowly came back the other way to feel the hair along his chin and upper lip. Her fingers brushed his lips in the process, and for a brief instant, she left her fingers against his closed mouth with a pensive expression on her face. He suppressed the craving to touch his tongue to her fingertips, not wanting to startle her so much that she’d stop her tactile exploration.

Finally, she dropped her hand to the edge of his mouth and pressed his face close to hers while she rubbed her cheek deliberately and with quiet relish against the other side of his beard. When she dropped her hand, she looked directly into his eyes unrepentantly.

“Why…” He cleared his throat to alleviate the noticeable strain in his voice, but the gruffness lingered. “Why did you do that?”

She held his gaze and admitted, “I was curious.” A blush lit her skin afore she added, “I’ve been wondering what that would feel like, and I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance to find out.”

He stared down into those light eyes he found so mesmerizing then ran his thumb across her pouty lips. She’d been curious about the feel of his beard against her skin. He was curious about the feel of her lips against his. Pushing one hand into the hair at the base of her skull, he held her gaze and allowed her to see all the raw emotions she inspired in him. The desire. The need. The growing hunger. He wanted her to have no doubt of his intention: put an end to this burning, desperate yearning to kiss her.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips less than a hair’s breadth from hers. He paused and held, giving her enough time to stop him if this was not what she wanted. He had made the mistake earlier of making a move based solely upon his own urges. This time, he would take his lead from her.

When she made no move to stop him nor pull away, he dropped his lips to the fullness of hers. The softness of first contact made him moan deep in his throat. He ran his tongue along her lower lip then pressed it lightly against the seam of her lips to gain entry. She opened to him without resistance. The taste of her exploded against his tongue, and his world reduced to only the feel of her in his arms, the brush of her lips against his, and her soft whimper as she tasted him back.

The briefness that was supposed to be this kiss dissolved. He wanted more.

He wanted much more.

He wanted it all.

He wanted all of her.

His hunger deepened, his control shattered, and he let loose the desire he’d held in check for days.

* * *

Ailsa’s world tilted a little. A pit of desire opened low in her belly, and the feel of the MacNeill’s tongue against hers made it burn in a hot flame that spread from her center outward. The softness of his initial press of lips deepened. When his tongue danced against hers, she pressed back gently at first. This was new for her, but it felt right.

She sank into the kiss. Letting the gentle tug of his teeth against her lower lip spark a thrill that led her hand back to his face. The soft tickle of his beard against her palm and the stroke of his tongue as it dueled with hers made her pulse leap.

Her skin got hot. The sun had begun to set, but she felt as if its rays burned at their hottest point directly onto her skin. A mewl of pleasure escaped her, and an urgency rose within the MacNeill. His attack on her senses intensified, and he spread the heat of his insistent ardor to her through the teasing of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, and the touch of the giant hand that trailed down her side to rest at her lower back.

He pulled her closer, disengaging his lips to trail kisses along her jawline. His tongue snaked out to lick at a corner below her ear and she shivered. He hummed in his throat at her reaction and did it again. And yet again, when she nearly unseated herself from his lap as she writhed in ecstasy.

He tightened his hold on her and nibbled and sucked as if he never intended to stop. The flames he’d lit in her flicked higher, near to consuming her. Ailsa’s head tilted back of its own accord, and Kallum took the exposed neckline as an invitation to extend his press of lips down the frontline of her throat.

His tongue dipped inside the top edge of her dress, where the loose ties revealed her collarbone. He licked along the hard line then stopped to suck on one of the center knobs that bordered the hollow of her throat. A flash of need shot straight to that private center between her legs, and she began to squirm. Pressure built deep in her woman’s place. Something intense bloomed just out of reach, and it was making her edgy.

“Kallum,” she breathed as she wriggled on his lap, needing something more but not sure more of what.

He lifted his mouth from her throat and captured her mouth again. He stroked in with his tongue, and she allowed herself to mimic his every thrust and tangle. Soon, they were both making sounds that rumbled noisily from deep in their throats and flushed the birds from the branches above their heads.

Ailsa’s breasts felt heavy, and her nipples budded in approval of the feast he was making of her. His manhood pressed against her hip, a rigid rod that should have made her nervous, but her heart pounded so fiercely she could focus on nothing else save the thought that it might burst.
With one last squeeze, Kallum nipped at her bottom lip and backed down the kiss to soft presses and licks. When his head finally lifted, his chest rose and fell in heavy pants and his dark eyes were glazed and dilated.

She, too, struggled to catch her breath, so it took her a few moments to be able to speak. Even then, she did so with difficulty. “Why…did you…do that?”

He rubbed his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. “I was curious,” he breathed. “And I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance to know how ’twould feel to taste you.”

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Ailsa Connery has waited three long years to finally escape her enslavement at Stirling Castle and reunite with her clan. But her carefully laid plans are completely destroyed by the arrival of the infamous Highland warrior known as Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil…who has plans of his own.

Kallum MacNeill’s fearsome reputation has long allowed him to keep hidden his secret double life of freeing enslaved captives across the land. It’s only when he kidnaps a servant lass—quite by accident—that he finds himself facing a wee predicament. He must accompany the lass home or risk her exposing his true identity. It’d be easy enough…if the feisty hellion didn’t fight him at every turn.

As they make their way to the Highlands, the perils the two must face are surpassed only by their constant sparring. Soon, their heated sniping sparks heat of a totally different kind. The kind that ignites a hunger that could consume them both. Yet the difficult journey is no match for the dangerous secrets they’re about to uncover.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Goodreads |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Lisa loves how words turn into stories whether in books, movies or music. Always an avid reader, she now writes sensual contemporary romance and banter-laden historicals featuring smart, sexy characters of diverse backgrounds and cultures.

Lisa started her career writing contemporary romance and has won four Emma Awards. Her first sports romance, QUARTERBACK CASANOVA, debuted on two Amazon bestseller lists. Always looking to try something new, Lisa’s excited to put her sexy, banter-laden spin on historical romance with her milestone 2022 release featuring a Black hero from the Highlands, NEVER CROSS A HIGHLANDER.

When she’s not writing, Lisa spends her time serving as track mom to the youngest of her two daughters, binge-watching planner flipthroughs on YouTube, and plotting how to get one of her novels turned into a movie featuring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
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