To celebrate I'm sharing a preview of the novel. This is a pivotal scene that takes place at the beginning of games that our heroine's father has put on in order to force her to wed. Enjoy!
A summer’s breeze laced with the scent of crushed
grass feathered against Rhona’s cheeks. She sat upon the stands before the
competition field and waited for the first of the strength games: the tossing
of the caber.
Erected out of slabs of pine, the stands rose three
tiers high. Much preparation had gone into this day. The MacLeod plaid—a crosshatch
of yellow, black, and grey, threaded with red—fluttered from the ring that
encircled the competition field.
Excited spectators chattered around Rhona, while
crowds of village-folk gathered around the perimeter of the field. She sat
in-between her father and Adaira, hands folded upon her lap. Since leaving the
tower room, no one besides Adaira had spoken to her. Caitrin hadn’t come to the
games, as her infant son had a fever, although Baltair was here. He sat farther
along the bench, laughing over something with the man seated next to him.
Baltair had not greeted Rhona, or even acknowledged
her—not something that bothered Rhona. But it stung that her father ignored
her. Even Una stared right through her.
It was all part of her punishment. Rhona’s fingernails
bit into her palms. How she wished she was far from here.
Men, clad only in plaid braies, their naked chests
gleaming in the morning sun, walked out onto the field. Rhona’s throat closed
at the sight of them.
So many … at least fifty.
Most of the faces she didn’t recognize, however, some
she did. A blond, grinning young warrior called Connel, and Dughall MacLean. Of
course—she’d known he’d compete.
The latter stood at the front of the group, dark blue
eyes riveted upon the stands—upon her. Rhona ignored him. Let him stare, she thought.
If he wins the games, I’ll scratch his eyes out on our wedding night.
But Connel and Dughall weren’t the only faces she
recognized in the crowd. Rhona’s breathing stilled when she saw a big,
broad-shouldered figure with short dark-blond hair and a scarred face standing at
the back of the group.
Taran MacKinnon.
Confusion swept over Rhona, muddling her thoughts for
a few moments. Connel and Dughall she understood, for both of them had made
their interest in her clear.
But Taran?
Betrayal followed swiftly on the heels of confusion. She’d
been furious with Taran for dragging her back to Dunvegan, yet she’d believed
he’d had some sympathy for her plight. What was he doing competing for her
hand?
Rhona clenched her jaw till it ached. She glared at
Taran, willing him to meet her gaze, yet he did not. Instead, his ice-blue
stare seemed unfocused, as if he was deep in thought.
Beside her Malcolm MacLeod rose to his feet. The
chatter in the stands quietened, and the crowd of warriors waiting below
shifted their gazes to the clan-chief.
“Welcome.” Her father’s voice carried across the
field. “For some of ye, Dunvegan is yer home, while for others ye have traveled
far to reach us. I greet ye all and thank ye for doing us this honor.”
A few of the warriors below cheered at this, while
others beamed up at MacLeod. Malcolm then turned to where Rhona sat silently
next to him. “Daughter, stand up.”
Rhona complied, hands still clasped before her. Dozens
of hungry male gazes raked over her. She felt as if they were stripping her clothing
from her. Rhona raised her chin, barely suffering the indignity.
“Aye.” Her father’s voice held a smug note as he
continued. “Lady Rhona MacLeod is a fiery beauty. She’ll make one of ye a fine
bride and bear ye plenty of sons … but ye will have to fight for her. The motto
of this family is ‘Hold Fast’. The MacLeods face-down our enemies without fear,
and we charge toward our destinies. I encourage all of ye to do the same.”
A cheer went up, and when it died away, all gazes
fixed upon Malcolm MacLeod, awaiting his next words. Tension rose around them, and
Rhona saw the excitement in the contestants’ eyes, their eager smiles. The
sight just made Rhona feel ill.
Her father’s command, when it came, fell like an
executioner’s axe, splitting the silence. “Let the games begin.”
💖🗡️ Release date: April 16th. Preorder your copy here! 💖🗡️
