Spotlight & Giveaway: The Wrong Highlander 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, The Wrong Highlander!

 
Hello everyone and happy 2019!
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

The book is called The Wrong Highlander and is about Lady Evina MacLean and Conran Buchanan, the Jack of all trades among the brothers in the Highland Bride series.
When Lady Evina’s father falls desperately ill, she sets out with her men to fetch back the famed healer Rory Buchanan. Unfortunately, they confuse Conran for his brother and after that mistake, another is made and they end up dragging him home naked and unconscious. Not a propitious beginning to the venture.
When Conran awakens to realize his situation, he keeps his mouth shut about who he really is in an effort to keep his brother from being kidnapped too. But he finds himself attracted to Evina, and does have some knowledge about healing from helping Rory in his endeavors, so Conran sets out to do what he can to aid the ailing father while getting to know Evina. But someone doesn’t want the MacLean healed. They want him dead, and his daughter along with him, and Conran finds himself scrambling to keep them both alive and from learning that he’s The Wrong Highlander.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

“Oh, Evina,” Tildy said on a sigh. “I raised ye better than this, lass. Ye can no’ run about kidnapping naked men and bringing them home, no matter how handsome and strapping and well-hung they are.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

When I sat down to write this book it was going to be about Rory. But as I’ve mentioned in the past, my characters are the ones that direct the story and I just try to keep up and write everything down as they do their thing, which is what happened here. Conran stepped in and took over so it became his story instead.
He really threw me for a loop! LOL

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

When Lady Evina and her party come across Conran naked in a waterfall, she can’t help but notice his impressive physique. And even after he’s knocked unconscious he remains in varying degrees of undress until he wakes, which she didn’t seem to mind enough to remedy the situation. And she thoroughly enjoys their first kiss which takes place shortly after officially meeting one another. So, we know she’s attracted to Conran right off the bat, if not a little smitten from the get-go, even if she won’t admit it.
While unconscious Conran starts dreaming about Evina even though he’d only got a glimpse of her when she clocked him over the head, so obviously he’s instantly attracted to her. And after the majority of his irritation at being kidnapped passed, Conran found himself enjoying her wit and cleverness as shown by her ability to flip the conversation to make him sound like the bad guy for defending himself when she was the one who’d directed her men to accost and kidnap him.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

This scene would show their skill, or lack thereof, on the part of the actors because of the range of emotion here… from surprise, to irritation, to anger, to embarrassment and even guilt. It’s nice too that it involves not only the main characters but some of the secondary characters, making it a great scene for an audition.

“Where am I?” The question popped out as he scowled over the group standing around him—a poor copy of his dream woman, an old female servant and two soldiers, he noted—but paid them little attention, instead scanning the room quickly. It was a bedchamber, but not one he recognized.
“Maclean,” the younger woman said. “Ye’re a guest of the Macleans.”
“Guest?” His voice was dubious. The last thing Conran remembered was a naked man attacking him while he was bathing. Well, no, he realized, his eyes narrowing on the redheaded woman again. He also recalled her, riding up on a horse while he grappled with his attacker in the river. She’d slammed a damned sword hilt into his head, he remembered, his eyes narrowing on her. “Ye knocked me senseless.”
“Ye were drowning our Gavin,” she responded abruptly, but didn’t even bother to look at him as she said it. Instead, the lass turned to peer worriedly toward the bed.
Conran followed her gaze, but all he saw was a mountain of furs piled on it. Mouth tightening with irritation at her lack of attention, he growled, “If yer Gavin is the fellow who molested me while I was bathing, he deserved it.”
She finally deigned to give him her attention then, but Conran barely noticed. A muttered curse had made his head swivel toward the two soldiers in the room. His eyes narrowed on the smaller one this time. He looked somewhat familiar, but with his hair dry and clothes on, it took Conran a minute to recognize him as his attacker. Once he did though, he growled, “You.”
The man shifted uncomfortably. “I was asked to fetch ye out o’ the water. Me apologies, m’lord, if ye mistook me intentions and thought ye were under attack.”
“I was bathing, alone, naked and without me weapon when another naked man suddenly appeared and grabbed me,” he pointed out with disgust. “O’ course I thought meself under attack. Any man would.”
“Really?” the girl asked, and Conran watched the larger soldier glance her way and nod. He didn’t bother to look, but heard the frown in her voice as she asked, “Well, why did ye no’ tell me that?”
“The situation was somewhat urgent,” the larger man reminded her in a deep rumble of a voice. “We needed to hurry and could no’ wait for him to finish his ablutions.”
“Right. Urgent,” the girl muttered, and turned to peer at the bed once more.
Conran followed her gaze, wondering what she found so fascinating about the damned furs.
“Also,” the man continued, “I was rather hoping Gavin would talk fast enough to reassure him all was well ere the Buchanan resorted to violence.”
“No one talks that fast,” Conran assured him dryly. “And I would no’ have heard him anyway over the rush of the waterfall.” When the man tipped his head in acknowledgment, Conran glanced back to the girl and asked shortly, “So? Why have I been kidnapped?”
“Ye’ve no’ been kidnapped,” she said quickly, turning back with something like alarm. Managing a somewhat strained smile, she added, “Truly, m’lord, we mean ye no harm at all. We are no’ enemies. In fact, we are admirers of yer skills in the healing arts.”
Conran snorted, and then growled, “I was knocked senseless, trussed up, tossed over a horse and unwillingly transported away from Buchanan to Maclean. Lass, that is kidnapping.”
“She is a lady no’ a lass,” the large man said sharply. “Ye’ll afford our lady the proper respect she is due and address her as Lady Evina.”
Conran raised a doubtful eyebrow at the words. The lass looked far and away from a lady at the moment. More like a dirty street urchin in that filthy blue dress. He narrowed his eyes as he recalled the blue draped over the leg he’d bitten. Then what she’d said moments ago finally sank through his head.
“Healing arts?” he asked sharply.
“Aye, the tales of yer skill have spread far and wide, Lord Buchanan, and we are in desperate need of those skills. Me father, Fearghas Maclean, is very ill. Please, just come take a look.”
Conran shook his head, realizing it was Rory they wanted. Obviously, they’d grabbed the wrong brother, he thought, but hesitated to say as much for fear it would see his brother treated as roughly as he had been.
While he stood, uncertain of what he should do or say in this situation, the lass grabbed his hand and drew him toward the bed. Her voice was desperate as she begged, “Please, just look at him. There must be something ye can do.”
“Nay.” Conran tugged his hand from hers. He was not the healer.
“Aye.”
Conran scowled. “Ye kidnapped me. Why would I help ye in return for such rough treatment?”
Several expressions flitted across her face—dismay, anger, desperation—and then Lady Evina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Raising her shoulders, she said quietly, “Please, m’lord. I apologize if Gavin’s approaching ye in the waterfall frightened ye. That was no’ our intention.”
Conran scowled at the comment, disliking the suggestion that he’d been afraid.
“In fact, we ne’er intended for any o’ the unfortunate events that followed to occur,” she continued. “The truth is that we rode to Buchanan to approach ye to beg yer assistance in saving the life o’ me dear father. However, it all went terribly wrong when ye attacked Gavin.”
Great, now he was the bad guy, attacking a man who just wished to gain his attention, Conran thought, and almost shook his head in wonder at how skillfully she’d turned the tables.
“And once ye were unconscious, we could hardly leave ye there, naked and vulnerable. Anything might have happened to ye should the wrong sort have found ye like that.”
That was clever, Conran acknowledged. Not only was he now the bad guy, but she had been saving him by kidnapping him.

Readers should read this book….

If you enjoyed the past Highland Brides books involving the Buchanan brothers then you’re sure to enjoy this one too. The hilarity begins with Lady Evina’s kidnapping of Conran and it just escalates from that point on. Luckily Conran is a decent fellow with a good head on his shoulders and a healthy ego so isn’t threatened by Evina’s wit or cleverness. And we see the Buchanans come together to help Conran and Evina navigate their newfound relationship.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

I’ve recently handed in the next story in the Highland Brides series, Geordie’s story. And I have to say Geordie’s story is H-O-T! Every story I write is as unique as the characters in them and the same can be said for Geordie’s story too. His is a much sexier story, but with the humour and chaos that the Buchanans tend to bring wherever they go.
I’m currently working on the next book in the Argeneau series. It involves a mortal woman trying to protect and care for an orphaned immortal baby. She’s had to move around a lot to avoid detection from other immortals, specifically rogue immortals. But when she gets caught robbing a local blood bank to feed the boy, the enforcers get involved and she comes face to face with those she’s been doing her best to avoid, including Magnus, who has trouble reading her…
As for upcoming new releases, the next book coming out is part of the Argeneau series and it’s about a character that many readers have been asking after for a very long time… Santo Notte! The Trouble With Vampires comes out on April 23rd!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Two signed copies of The Wrong Highlander!

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Excerpt from The Wrong Highlander:

“Fine,” he muttered now. “Take me to him.”
“Perhaps ye could dress first,” the old woman suggested in arid tones.
Eyebrows rising, Conran followed her glance down to see that his plaid and a fur were lying on the floor on top of and in front of his feet, but otherwise, he was completely naked.
“They fell off when ye woke and leapt up,” Evina said, her gaze never dropping below his face. The way she said it suggested that he’d been wearing the plaid at least, but he recalled being naked on the horse. The damn thing must have been draped over him and slid off when he stood.
Shaking his head, Conran bent to snatch up the plaid and moved to the other side of the bed where there was room to kneel and pleat the item of clothing on the floor. His movements were economical, but not rushed. Conran was not embarrassed by nudity, his or anyone else’s. He’d skinny- dipped with his brothers two or three times a week for the first twenty-odd years of his life and still did on occasion. Between that and helping Rory with his work with the ill and injured, which necessitated dealing with people in all states of dress and undress, he saw no shame in the human body.
Conran did find it interesting that Lady Evina hadn’t seemed embarrassed by his nudity either, though. Most ladies would have blushed and stammered and probably even turned their back while they spoke to him, if not leave the room altogether until he’d clothed himself. But she’d stood there, just inches away, as if he were fully garbed. Her gaze had never dropped below his face, though, Conran thought, running the past few minutes through his mind as he worked. Interesting. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t figure the woman out. Just when he thought he knew what to expect, she surprised him . . . which fascinated him.
Conran was just finishing the last pleat when a white shirt appeared before his face. Pausing, he sat back on his heels and glanced to the man holding it out to him. It was the one who had attacked him under the falls, the smaller of the two soldiers. Although that description was misleading. The man wasn’t small by any means. In fact, he was about his size, but next to the mountain of a man that was the other soldier, this one looked wee.
“Yer shirt,” the soldier said quietly. “I tucked it in me saddlebag and brought it back fer ye.”
“Thank ye,” Conran said grudgingly as he took the shirt. He tugged it on quickly, and then donned the plaid, and turned to the people waiting patiently on the other side of the bed. Raising his eyebrows, he said, “So . . . if ye’ll take me to yer father, I’ll see if there is aught I can do.”
He expected Evina to lead him out of the room. Instead, she walked to the bed, and peered down at the top of the pile of furs stacked there. “Da? Rory Buchanan is here. If anyone can save ye, ’tis him. Are ye awake, Da?”
Conran moved closer to the bed, his eyes widening when he spotted the shriveled old face just visible above the mountain of furs. Taking in the flushed cheeks and glazed eyes when the man opened them, he began to frown and leaned down to press the back of his hand to Fearghas Maclean’s forehead.
“Dear God, he’s burning up,” he said with dismay, and tugged his hand away. The man was hot enough to cook a meal on without need of a fire.
Frowning, Conran straightened, thinking the fellow did need his brother’s skills, and immediately. But if he was now at Maclean, it would take at least two days, more likely three, to ride to Buchanan and bring him back. If his brother would even come, Conran thought. Rory was very worried about the innkeeper’s daughter. The lass was a wee thing, and her husband was a big bull of a man. Rory was afraid the birth of their bairn could kill the lass. He wasn’t likely to be willing to leave her until the birth was done and over. That left taking the Maclean to him, but the state he was in, Fearghas wasn’t likely to survive the journey.
Conran frowned over the predicament and then uttered a soft but fervent curse. He’d have to do what he could for the Maclean, himself, and try to get his fever down. If they managed that, they might be able to transport him to Buchanan for Rory to tend him. Fortunately for them, after helping Rory out so many times, he did know how to bring down a fever. He promptly began to tear away the furs on the bed and toss them to the floor.
“What are ye doing?” Evina asked with alarm, trying to stop him.
“He has a fever,” Conran pointed out, ignoring her attempts and continuing to remove the furs. Dear God, where the hell had they got all of them?
“Yes, but he was complaining that he was cold,” she protested, grabbing up the furs he’d just removed.
“Because he has a fever,” he muttered. But when she started to return the furs even as he removed them, Conran paused and straightened to glare at her, his mouth opening and then closing again as he really looked at her. The woman was pale as death, with great smudges under her eyes that could only be exhaustion. She needed sleep and wasn’t likely to seek it until she was sure her father was all right . . . unless she was made to.
“Do ye want me help or no’?” he said finally.
Her eyes widened incredulously. “Aye, o’ course, but—-”
“Then get out,” Conran interrupted grimly.
“What?” she gasped with amazement.
“I want that damned fire put out, the window shutters opened, a cold bath brought up, and ye gone,” he added firmly, before continuing., “And do no’ return. If ye do, I will leave.”
“But . . .” The lost look on her face as she peered down at her father was almost his undoing and Conran nearly rescinded the words, but then he noted the way her hands were trembling, and he held firm. The lass was beyond exhausted. She’d probably been doing without sleep to tend her father before riding out for Buchanan, but he was quite sure she hadn’t slept at all over the last two or three days as she’d travelled to fetch him back. If the woman didn’t soon rest, she’d collapse and fall ill herself.
“Yer filthy, ye reek, and ye’re swaying on yer feet,” Conran snapped harshly, suspecting gentle wouldn’t work with this woman. “Ye’re no’ fit to be in a sick room. Take yerself out o’ it, find a bath and then yer bed, and do no’ return until I say so.”
“You—- I—-,” she stammered, shock and anger coloring her cheeks, and Conran began to suspect he may have overdone it a bit.
Mouth tightening, he used the only weapon he had—her concern for her father. Lifting his chin, he growled, “Well? Are ye leaving, or am I?”
“Evina,” the older woman said gently, touching her arm.
Mouth tightening bitterly, Lady Evina gave a stiff nod and turned to stride from the room, slamming the door behind her.
“See that she has something to eat and then sleeps,” Conran ordered the old woman. “And tell her I’ll leave if she does no’ do both. I’ve no desire to be tending her as well as her father.”
Nodding, the maid rushed to the door to chase after her lady.
“And do no’ forget to order a cold bath fer yer laird,” Conran barked as the old woman slid into the hall.
The moment the door closed behind her, he turned to the two soldiers still in the room and repeated, “Open the window shutters and put out that damned fire. We have to get him cooled down or his brains will boil.”
The two men moved at once to obey, and Conran went back to removing the furs, his mind already on what he’d seen Rory do when he had a patient with a fever that he needed to bring down.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

A laird’s daughter kidnaps a Highlander—and loses her heart… in New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands’ new historical romance

Lady Evina Maclean has heard much about Rory Buchanan’s skill as a healer. What she hasn’t heard is how good the brawny Highlander looks bathing in a waterfall. But Evina can’t afford the distraction, for her ailing father urgently needs care. Only when she’s rendered Buchanan unconscious and dragged him back to her family’s castle does the truth emerge—it’s not Rory she’s kidnapped but his brother Conran.

Other ladies try to ensnare Conran with flattery. Evina hits him over the head with the hilt of her sword to save her kin—and Conran likes the spirited redhead all the more for it. He’s learned enough from his brother to heal Evina’s father, but there are other dangers swirling around the Maclean clan. And while the beautiful, independent lady has sworn not to marry, this wrong Highlander may be just the right man for her.
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Meet the Author:

My name is Lynsay Sands and I’m the author of the Argeneau series and many hysterical historicals (as my readers tend to call them). I have written over fifty-seven books and twelve anthologies, which probably tells you I really enjoy writing. I consider myself very lucky to have been able to make a career out of it.
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