Long and Short Reviews welcomes Alyson McLayne who is celebrating the upcoming release of Highland Captive, the fourth book in her Sons of Gregor MacLeod series. Enter the giveaway at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of Highland Betrayal.

She’d saved his son.
Could she save him as well?

Laird Gavin MacKinnon is a changed man—and not for the better. Ever since his young son, Ewan, disappeared two years ago, Gavin has grown callous and bitter. Scouring the countryside, his search leads him to a mysterious woman who maintains the boy is hers. He decides to take them both and ask questions later.

Deirdre MacIntyre will go with the brooding laird if it will keep her son safe. Gavin has to admit that the beautiful lass has a bond with Ewan, and things aren’t adding up. When Deirdre’s clan comes to claim her under threat of war, Gavin has a choice to make: fight for her or let her go.

The Sons of Gregor MacLeod:
Highland Promise (Book 1)
Highland Conquest (Book 2)
Highland Betrayal (Book 3)
Highland Captive (Book 4)

Enjoy an Excerpt

She scanned the crowd, not seeing her target. He couldn’t just blend in—he was possibly the biggest man she’d ever seen. It was an unusually warm day, and he’d rolled up his linen sleeves, the tie at his neck undone. The material had hung open, revealing muscles that rippled and bulged in his arms and chest.

Developed wielding the huge broad sword that hung down his spine, no doubt.

The muscles weren’t what frightened her the most—nor the sword. It was the grim intensity in his face and eyes that promised retribution…eyes that were the exact same color as her son’s.

That scared the life out of her.

“Where are you?” she whispered, hearing the desperation in her voice, the fear that howled like a wounded animal through her body.

“I’m right behind you, lass, and wondering why the wife of Lewis MacIntyre, son and heir of the ruthless Laird MacIntyre, almost ran me down in the middle of the market and has been unable to keep her gaze off me since. You’re a lovely lass, for sure, but you doona stare at me with lust in your eyes. ’Tis not a swiving you’re after.”

Deirdre’s stomach clenched, and she would have run—like a mouse, never the lion she wanted to be—but his hand landed on the swell of her hip. The pressure of his palm silently ordered her to turn around.

She did. And when she stumbled, his fingers tightened on her body and steadied her. He watched her with narrowed eyes, his gaze landing on the pulse that she could feel beating wildly in her neck and on her trembling lips. She knew that luminous stare—the bright, dazzling blue that verged on crystalline sea-green. But the eyes she’d been staring into for the past two years looked back at her lovingly, adoringly. Not with suspicion and barely hidden enmity.

For him, she stiffened her spine. For the sake of her son.

“Let go of me. I doona need your help.”

The man’s gaze flicked to hers, and she saw a growing interest. Speculation. He withdrew his hand and took a step back. She stared up at him, this time trying to look past those familiar eyes and see what other similarities she could find in his frightening countenance.

The same long, thick lashes fringed his piercing gaze; the same shallow dent marked his chin. His hair formed a downward peak in the middle of his forehead, the same as her son’s. Except Ewan’s hair was longer and lighter, almost a white-blond. This man had hacked his blond hair short, so it looked darker and stood up in ragged bristles.

Her eyes drifted down to his mouth. He had lips like her son’s too, but while Ewan’s were soft and childlike, his had firmed with age while still keeping their full shape.

That’s where the similarities ended. Her son’s welcoming smile was nowhere to be seen. Nay, this man looked grim and possibly cruel. It was there in the twist of his lips, the harshness of his countenance, the quickness with which he was ready to condemn her.

He expected betrayal, and she suspected he’d even welcome it, because then he could punish whoever had crossed him.

Aye. A cruel man, indeed.

“Is your husband here, Lady MacIntyre?”

“He’s here…somewhere.” Just where, she had no idea. Truth be told, she didn’t expect to see him for days yet, if not weeks. Which made his insistence that she accompany him to the festival even more surprising. “You know a great deal about me, but I am at a disadvantage. Who are you?” she blurted out.

“I’m Gavin MacKinnon, Laird of Clan MacKinnon. Did you come here looking for me, lass? Is there something you want to tell me? Some information you want to share?”

The last words sounded almost hopeful, eager, and that disturbed her as much as the color of his eyes. Hope implied faith and dreams. Cruel men did not dream—and she wanted him to be cruel. Aye, if he was a blackheart, she could turn away and never look back.

“Nay,” she said abruptly, her panic rising again. What information was he looking for? “And you’re mistaken. I wasn’t looking at you. I was just…looking.”

The eagerness faded from his eyes, replaced by disappointment and frustration, even bitterness. It caused an unexpected pang in her heart. She didn’t like that she’d somehow hurt him and put that bleakness back into his gaze.

“Aye, you stared at me for a long while. Did you like what you saw? I’m a big man. Some women mistake that to mean the same as rough. Is that what you were hoping for, lass? A hard tupping? Did I misunderstand your interest?”

His tone was harsh, the words callous.

Shock flooded her senses. Especially as she could see he didn’t mean what he said. He was deliberately trying to hurt her. To diminish her. And it worked. As much as she tried to fight it, shame and fear invaded her body. As quick as that, she was back to being five or ten or thirteen and at the mercy of her mother and siblings.

No one but her family had ever tried to wound her deliberately. Marrying Lewis and coming to the MacIntyres, despite her young age, had turned into a blessing. Her husband was distant but not unkind, and his clan was respectful. They’d even become friendly since she’d been given Ewan. Her son’s laughter and love had opened everyone’s hearts.

“I doona wish that from you, sir. I doona wish anything from you other than to be left alone.”

“Everyone wants something, Lady MacIntyre. And eventually I’ll discover what you want too.”

He nodded once—a curt dip of his head—then moved past her into the gathering. She held her breath and closed her eyes, making herself stay still, no matter how much she wanted to turn around and watch him leave. Her throat tightened, and she felt the pressure of tears building behind her eyelids.
She would not let them fall. She’d promised herself she’d never cry again over the hurtful words of cruel men—and women too. Aye, her mother and siblings had been experts at saying hurtful things.

But this was different. This was about Ewan.

God almighty, Lewis. What have you done?

***
Excerpted from Highland Captive by Alyson McLayne. © 2019 by Alyson McLayne. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

About the Author: Alyson McLayne is a mom of twins and an award-winning writer of contemporary, historical and paranormal romance. She has been nominated for several Romance Writers of America contests, including The Golden Heart, The Golden Pen, The Orange Rose, Great Expectations, The Molly’s and The Winter Rose. She lives in Vancouver, Canada.

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Long and Short Reviews welcomes Alyson McLayne who is visiting with us to celebrate the upcoming release of Highland Betrayal, the third book in her The Sons of Gregor MacLeod series. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of Highland Conquest, the second book in the series. Read our review here!

A betrothal. A betrayal. A love threatened by treachery.

Laird Callum MacLean vowed to marry Maggie MacDonnell. But when his father’s apparent suicide makes him Laird of his clan, Callum must unmask his father’s killer before bringing Maggie into his dangerous new home.

Maggie’s home isn’t any safer. When Callum fails to return, Maggie does what any resourceful Highland lass would do. She escapes—and finds herself toe-to-toe with Callum, who’s determined to fulfill his promise. Maggie can’t bring herself to trust him with her heart again. But with a traitor still at large, they must rely on each other in every way, or their clans—and their love—will be destroyed.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

Callum tied the mare’s reins to his stallion’s, then circled the fire and crouched in front of her.

“The horse is yours, Maggie, and the supplies. I willna stop you if you decide to leave, but I will send a guard with you—five men. They will see you safely to your brother.”

Instead of feeling grateful, disappointment crashed through her. What was wrong with her? She pinned a smile on her face, hoping he read it as a sign of thanks. She opened her mouth to tell him she’d leave immediately, but he waylaid her with a raised hand.

“Nay, I have more to say. Let me finish, please.”

She closed her mouth and nodded. Her heart beat faster. That flutter returned in her chest. When he grasped her hand and held it in his, palm to palm, her throat tightened.

“Maggie, when I left you before, I meant to return in the spring. ’Twas my true intent to marry you, I swear it. I could hardly wait to make you my wife. But…things changed after my father died that winter. I kept thinking I would fix it by the next spring or next summer, until suddenly, three years had passed and I’d barely written, let alone come to see you.”

“Why didn’t you come?” She had to squeeze the words past the lump in her throat.

“I knew I wouldnae be able to leave if I did.”

She frowned, her anger boiling up all over again. “And why would you want to? I was of age.”

“’Twas not the right time.”

“And now is? When I’ve decided to leave? When I no longer trust you?”

“’Tis not ideal, I know—”

“Aye, you have that right.”

He clenched his jaw, and his chest rose as he breathed deeply. “We both have secrets. You don’t want to talk about yours, and I canna talk about mine. Not yet. I’m sorry, lass. But…if you can, I’d ask you to put that behind you. I told you I’d help you get to Edinburgh, to wherever John is, but there’s another option. I doona want you to leave. Father Lundie is riding with me. He’ll marry us, Maggie. Now.”

She gasped. Married? Now? “But…but…”

He lifted her hand and squeezed tight. “Stop thinking of the past and everything that stands in our way. Just think of the present. With me. You’re frightened of something, and this will give you protection. Not just mine, but my foster brothers’ and Gregor MacLeod’s too. We’ll help you with Ross and whatever else it is you’re running from.”

“So you’ll marry me to protect me? That’s all?”

“Nay. I’ll marry you because I want you. As my wife, as my lover, as the mother of my children. I will create a safe and happy home for you. You doona need to leave the Highlands, and I promise ne’er to leave you again.”

About the Author:Alyson McLayne is a mom of twins and an award-winning writer of contemporary, historical, and paranormal romance. She’s also a dog lover and cat servant with a serious stash of dark chocolate. After getting her degree in theater at the University of Alberta, she promptly moved to the west coast where she worked in film for several years and met her prop master husband.

Her self-published works in contemporary romance include her Santa Barbara Billionaire Bachelor series: How To Catch A Bride, How To Claim An Heiress, and How To Outplay A Player. How To Catch A Bride (formerly The Fabrizio Bride) was recently nominated for a RONE award.

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Long and Short Reviews welcomes Alyson McLayne who is visiting with us to celebrate the recent release of Highland Promise. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of the book.

Hello Lovely Readers!!

My name is Alyson McLayne, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to introduce you to my book, HIGHLAND PROMISE, a Scottish Highlander Romantic Adventure!

It’s the first book in my historical romance series, THE SONS OF GREGOR MACLEOD, starring five Highland Lairds, who were fostered together as lads to become brothers. Darach, Lachlan, Callum, Gavin, and Kerr fight for their clans, for each other, and for their own true love.

These Highland Lairds are a band of brothers, who will defend each other to the death—if they don’t kill each other first with their sharp wit and hilarious banter. They take their oaths seriously, whether it’s to bring peace to the Highlands and defend one another as friends and allies, or to razz each other so hard, only one brother is left standing—and then they’ll take him down too.

And the women they love? They have spirit, and tenacity, and they take care of others before they take care of themselves. They’re all different—their backgrounds, their struggles, their interests and talents—but at the core of each woman is a strength, compassion, and a capacity to love that brings their man to his knees.

Totally. Slayed.

Before I tell you about HIGHLAND PROMISE, here’s a little about me.  I live on the west coast of Canada with my adorable (aka annoying) 5 year old boy/girl twins; my sweet yet sarcastic husband (who just said he’s not sarcastic at all, he’s ironic!); my counter-surfing puppy, Jasper, who turns one year old the same day HIGHLAND PROMISE debuts (Happy Birthday, baby!!); and my 86 year old dad who gets a look on his face every time it’s mentioned there are—gasp—sex scenes in my books…but then goes on to tell me young people (meaning me) did not invent sex.

Ears…burning…must pour…hot oil…inside…

Speaking of ears, as I’m writing this, I have ear plugs in because my son is beside me in my office (aka my bedroom) building a fort under the covers on the bed, while my Slytherin-declaring daughter waits to knock it down, which results in WW3; Jasper hovers at the edge, barking, until he can’t stand it anymore and jumps onto the bed with the monsters, er, I mean children; my husband comes in and says something “ironic” about the chaos; and I stare fiercely at my computer screen determined to ignore it ALL—and thanking God my dad can turn his hearing aids OFF.

Just grist for the mill…grist for the mill…said all writer-moms everywhere.

Okay. Onto the important part: HIGHLAND PROMISE! I started writing HIGHLAND PROMISE almost 10 years ago after reading ALL of Julie Garwood’s medieval-set historicals, most of which were set in the Highlands. I LOVED them. I don’t read a lot of books over and over, but I did hers. I found them completely captivating.

I think HIGHLAND PROMISE captures that same tone and spirit: Caitlin MacInnes is the archetypal Waif/Free Spirit who turns the archetypal Chieftain, Laird Darach MacKenzie’s life upside down—and then spins it around and dribbles with it for a while. As Lachlan MacKay, Darach’s foster-brother, says of Darach’s and Caitlin’s courtship:

“I doona know when I’ve laughed so much as watching Darach trying to control [Caitlin] over the past few weeks. Her intentions are good, but she’s trouble. It follows her around like a faithful hound.”

Darach is undone by her. His heart, which he swore he’d NEVER give to another woman, is torn from his body and becomes putty in her hands. Of course, he doesn’t know that at first, and even when he finally figures it out, he doesn’t tell her—he’s a warrior, a leader of his people, not a poet. And Caitlin, who is determined to make Darach happy whether he wants her to or not, doesn’t believe there’s any possible way she can stay with him. She needs to leave the Highlands immediately and find her mother’s family in France.

’Cause there’s a whole lotta trouble on her tail (some might call it a shite storm—haha!) heading straight for Darach. But what Caitlin fails to realize is that Darach, along with his brothers and their clans, is strong enough to handle it.

War is coming. Caitlin didn’t start the blood feud between the Frasers and the MacKenzies, nay, Laird Fraser and his sister, Darach’s former betrothed, did that, but she will be the catalyst that ends it—pinning the good men of the Highlands against a monster.

And hopefully winning.

(Well of course they win, and of course Darach and Caitlin live happily ever after—it’s a romance, after all!!)

Now go—before I start rambling and give too much away. Read the words and feel the feels. Fall in love with both Darach and Caitlin…and prepare yourself for Lachlan’s story next.

Smooches,

Alyson McLayne

Five boys destined to become Highland lairds are fostered together as brothers. Darach, Lachlan, Callum, Gavin and Kerr fight for their clans, for each other, and for their own true loves.

When forced to choose between duty and honor…
Darach MacKenzie vowed never again to let a woman near his heart after his betrothed betrayed him. It sparked an intense feud between his clan and the Frasers. With all-out war on the wind, Darach can’t be distracted—not even by a sweet and charming lass who desperately needs his help.

This Highland Laird will find a way to have both
When Darach rescued Caitlin MacInnes from the clutches of vile Laird Fraser, she vowed to never let men or misery rule her life again. With Darach and the MacKenzie clan, Caitlin finally feels safe. But when Laird Fraser shows up to claim what’s rightfully his, or go to war, Darach will have to use all his brawn and brains to protect Caitlin—even if it means losing his heart.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Do you think a lass like you with a horse like Cloud will even make it to Inverness without being accosted? You have no coin, no sword, no one to show you the way. ’Tis a fool’s journey. For the love of God, stay here.”

“I canna!”

“Why e’re not?”

The familiar panic that she tried so hard to tamp down pushed up from her belly and threatened to close her throat. “My uncle and Fraser—they’ll find me. I willna go back! I’ll be free of them in France.”

“Nay, Caitlin, you’ll be abused or raped or dead in France—if you even get there. You’ll only be safe if you stay with the MacKenzies. ’Tis all right to be afraid, lass. You survived a horrendous ordeal. But you must think clearly. You canna go to France.”

“Am I your prisoner, then?”

He reared back from her. “Nay, of course not.”

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“You would die.”

“But would you let me pass, if ’twas what I truly wanted?”

His eye twitched steadily, along with a muscle in his jaw. Finally he said, “I took an oath to keep you safe, lass, but aye, you could leave. You can leave. But not alone. I will send men with you who know the way and will keep the brigands at bay.”

So he wouldnae control her, lock her away as her uncle had done.

The pressure inside her eased, and on a half sob, half laugh, she threw her arms around his shoulders, impulsively pressing her lips to his. They were as soft as she’d imagined. He stiffened for an instant, then wrapped her in his embrace, one hand sinking into her hair, the other sliding downward to anchor their hips together. A rumble sounded in his chest, and he angled his head, licking the seam of her lips. When she gasped in surprise, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth to rub against hers. Heat scorched her skin at the contact, and her breasts tightened—hard and aching. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed to the floor like a rag doll.

The brush fell from her fingers and crashed to the floor. He yanked his head back, lids heavy, breath harsh and quick. Her own breath rasped in her throat.

“You shouldnae have done that, Caitlin.” His voice grated like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

A wave of remorse washed over her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just so happy. It willna happen again, I promise. Please, doona send me back.”

He groaned and pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. “I willna send you anywhere, sweetling. No matter what you do. ’Tis just…you are such an innocent. I doona think you understand…”

Caitlin waited for him to finish. His hand stroked her hair, and she melted into him. She wanted him to keep caressing down her spine to her bottom. “Understand what?”

He sighed. “My point exactly. Most women wouldnae have to ask. ’Tis troublesome.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, wavering between self-pity and annoyance. “I did not know my gratitude was so unwelcome.”

“That was not gratitude.” Now he sounded annoyed. He tilted her chin up with his finger so she looked at him. “Have you ne’er been kissed before?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She tried to turn away, but he held her tight. “’Tis not your business. I willna tell you.”

“Aye, you will.”

She stepped on his foot, so he’d release her, but instead he wrapped his leg around hers. Trapped and off balance, she clung to him.

“Caitlin,” he prompted.

Her lips pressed together. It was mortifying that, at almost twenty, she’d only been kissed once—by an ogre who’d just told her not to do it again.

The ogre tipped her back farther.

“Hundreds of times,” she said.

“I doona think so. I think your father kept a good eye on you, and then your uncle locked you up. You know naught of kissing or anything else.”

“Fine. I have ne’er been kissed properly, but two did try. The first my father caught before the lad could do more than hold my hand. He was flung from the barn onto his backside. The second I kneed in his privates, a trick my father taught me after the first lad’s failed attempt. In return for my actions, I received this.” Caitlin pointed to her bruised temple.

“Fraser,” Darach ground out, then yanked her into a hug so tight she could scarcely breathe.

For someone who did not want her touch, he held her very close. What was the difference between a hug and a kiss? Surely they were just as intimate. So much so that if her father had seen them, he’d have done much more than throw Darach out onto his backside.

“Did you get him good?” he asked.

“Aye. He fell to his knees, then onto his side and curled up like a bairn. When he could finally stand, he hit my face and then my belly while his men held me. I fainted shortly after. I think maybe he kicked me too, for I have a large bruise on my hip and one on my thigh.”

“I will kill him.” He grasped her waist and gently moved her back to look down at her torso, as if to see the damage.

She moaned again, but this time from fear. “I doona want you hurt. Any of you.”

“He dared lay hands upon you, Caitlin. For that alone, I will gut him. None hurt what is mine to protect.”

About the Author: A stay-at-home mom of twins and award-winning writer, Alyson McLayne is a dog lover and cat servant with a serious stash of dark chocolate. After getting her degree in theater at the University of Alberta, she promptly moved to the west coast where she worked in film for several years and met her Prop Master husband.

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