Accustomed to watching over things for Clan MacLomain and their Viking ancestors, Julie had given up hope of traveling back in time for love like those before her. Until the day an old friend turned crush shows up on her doorstep in New Hampshire claiming he needs help in fourteenth century Scotland.
Having pledged to help his clan, Laird Tiernan MacLomain searches for his destined Broun in the twenty-first century. Yet he only wants the woman he's secretly loved for years. So he breaks the rules and brings Julie back to the medieval period with him. She might lack the bloodline needed to harness the power of the Claddagh, but he won't leave her behind.
Together, they embark on a whirlwind quest to protect King David II against Edward Balliol and his disenfranchised nobles, the 'disinherited.' They also face a dark threat nobody foresaw. Will Tiernan and Julie defeat it without the power of predestined love? Or will breaking the rules be their ultimate downfall and Scotland's ruin? Find out in A Scot's Pledge, an emotional and passionate journey into the turbulent onset of the Second War of Scottish Independence.
Read an Excerpt:
He had her
figured out. But of course, he did. He was her best friend. “How did you get
that out of everything I just said?”
“Actually, I’ve
sensed it for quite some time now.” He remained perfectly blunt. “When you opened
the door tonight, I knew you felt just as strongly as me.”
“You don’t know
that.”
“But I do.”
“How?”
“Your heart for
starters.” His eyes twinkled. “’Twas about pounding out of your chest.”
“Maybe I’d been
dancing...” yeah, right, so weak, “with my friends.”
The corner of
his mouth shot up. “To Christmas music?”
“It can be
upbeat.”
“You hate
dancing.”
“I hate sucking
at dancing.”
“You dinnae suck
at dancing.”
“Oh, but I do.”
“You just
havenae had the right partner.”
“We’re talking
about upbeat dancing,” she reminded.
“Nay, we’re
talking about you trying to do what you think is the right thing,” he replied.
“Pushing me away when all you really want to do is find out what it would be
like…at last.”
He was way too
on to her. Yet what precisely was he referring to? It sounded like they might
be off the topic of dancing and on to something else. “Being cryptic like your
father again, I see.”
“You know what
I’m talking about.”
Definitely not
dancing. Right?
“No clue.” But
she could imagine so very, very well.
“You want to
know what it would feel like to dance with me.” His tone dropped to a sexy
octave that about curled her toes. “Then, mayhap more.”
“Definitely not
interested in dancing,” she lied then grabbed at anything she could. “Okay, I’m
just gonna give it to you straight.” She thought fast and came up with the
perfect argument. “I think your magic going all wonky has you struggling for
normalcy, something dependable, and that’s always been me. So you’re latching
on to what makes you feel like you still have control over things.”
“Latching on?”
he murmured, his gaze all smoldering-bedroom-eyes now. “Good idea.” His magic
wasn’t so wonky that he couldn’t flick a wrist and turn the music up. Before
she darted away, he reeled her close. “You’re right. Latching on to you does
make me feel better.” His eyes met hers. “In control, as you say.”
This was so not
a good idea. Stay strong. Step away. Think of Scotland. All the lives depending
on him. You’re his voice of reason. Yet, just like it had when he embraced her
earlier, all logic fled the moment she was in his arms. Her inner self-coach
threw in the towel at the feel of his hard body. At the look in his gorgeous
eyes.
She was in way
over her head here.
Scratch that.
She’d already drowned.
“You are not
entirely right, though, Jules,” he murmured, tilting her chin until her eyes
didn’t stray from his. As if they ever would. “This doesnae feel normal in the
least.”
Had she
mentioned normal at some point? Because she agreed, this felt anything but. She
felt electrified, on fire, like the room—no, the whole house—was fading away.
All that existed was him. His hot as hell face, his eyes, lips, the tiny braids
in his hair, the plaid wrapped over his broad shoulder…
“Oh, no,” she
exclaimed, realizing too late he’d pulled her right into his web.
The room was
really gone.
