A scene
from when Cadence first arrives in medieval Scotland.
“Why
are you here to save me?”
“I
dinnae think I am,” he said.
“Excuse
me?”
“‘Tis
likely we will die.”
“Tell
me how you really feel,” she muttered to herself.
“I
did, lass.” Malcolm frowned at her. “Are your ears full of water?”
Cadence
rolled her eyes. “No, sorry, it’s an expression.”
His
brows lowered.
“A
bit of sarcasm. Again, sorry.” She nodded toward the ocean. “I’m thankful you
saved me from that. I just didn’t expect it to be you.”
A scene when a wolf is
being named.
In
response, the wolf raised his head and perked his ears.
“I
think he likes that,” Cadence said, still smiling.
“Mayhap,
if he proves himself, I’ll give him a warrior’s name in time.”
“No
way. Kynan’s a good, strong name.” She ran her fingers through her hair.
“Besides, it’s not cool to rename an animal. It only confuses them.”
“Cool?
‘Tis a wolf, lass. Made for this weather. I dinnae think the temperature—”
“It’s
a twenty-first century expression,” she cut him off, “It means great.” She
chuckled. “Let’s tackle this later. I’ll teach you some of my words and you can
teach me some Gaelic. Deal?”
A scene in which they’re
chatting about the wolf’s origins.
“I
know there’s a feel of Fionn Mac Cumhail about him.” He stared into the forest.
“A gift from a god but not a god at all.”
Cadence
looked between Malcolm and Adlin. “What do you mean?”
The
arch wizard cocked a brow and only offered a crooked grin. “‘Tis not for me to
say.”
“But
you did just say it,” Leslie
remarked. “And now opened a can of worms.”
“He
doesnae speak of worms, lass,” Bradon enlightened. “But of a wolf.”
Sheila
chuckled.
Leslie
shook her head, smirking at Bradon. “Let me rephrase. He brought up a subject
that won’t be put to rest until he reveals the rest of what he knows.”
Wrath
of the Highlander
The
MacLomain Series
Next
Generation
Book
3
Sky
Purington
Genre: Time Travel Fantasy Romance
Date of
Publication: July 9, 2014
ASIN: B00LNU0PLK
Number of
pages: 254
Word Count: 76,500
Cover
Artist: Tamra Westberry
Book
Description:
Bookstore owner
and ghostwriter, Cadence wants nothing more than to be part of the unending
draw between her Broun heritage and the medieval MacLomain clan. When an
unexpected Claddagh ring appears on her finger, the distant past soon becomes
her future. Though sure she was brought back in time for another man, the
laird’s cousin soon draws her eye, then her every thought.
Recently widowed
by a traitorous wife, Malcolm MacLomain has no use for love. Merciless, he
swears revenge on his enemies and embarks for war. When courageous and
persevering, Cadence becomes part of his endeavor his broken heart starts to
mend. Caught in an unexpected journey of forgiveness and discovery, two worlds
collide and heal despite the, Wrath of the Highlander.
Available
Now- Mark of the Highlander (Book 1), Vow of the Highlander (Book 2) and Wrath
of the Highlander (Book 3). Coming Soon- Faith of the Highlander (Book 4) and
the final in the series, Plight of the Highlander (Book 5).
“Have
you found your mystery man yet, lass?” he said, so low she would feel the
rumble of his inquisition through the thin material of her silky, smooth dress.
Her
lips trembled, eyes wide, but she gave no answer.
Oh,
but to close his lips over hers.
“No,”
Cadence finally murmured, her eyes still locked on his. “But I will find him.”
When
she licked her lips, his eyes drifted down. Wide and full, they were created
for pure sin. He could only imagine them running down his body. Damnation, he
needed her closer.
Though
he wouldn’t kiss her, he’d sure as hell dance with her.
Ignoring
her assurance that she was meant for another man, Malcolm pulled her into the
dancing crowd. It didn’t matter if the music was merry. He wasn’t in the mood
for speed. Besides, he was viciously aroused. She’d feel his need while she
tried to keep focus on the man she so eagerly sought.
“Goddess
above, what are you doing to me,” she whispered, voice strangled.
Arms
wrapped around her lower back, he brought his mouth against her ear. “‘Twill be
no goddess giving you answers, only me.” He tightened his hold. “Do you feel me
then, lass?”
“How
could I not?” she gasped. Hands clamped on his upper arms, she turned her face
into his chest and mumbled, “You show ill respect to a man you have not met.”
“I
dinnae respect a man until he earns it.” Malcolm closed his eyes and breathed
in the sweet scent of her hair.
As
each individual note trilled from the bagpipe, she melted against him more
thoroughly than the icy snowflakes speckling his heated skin. Fire and drink
might warm the crowd but where they stood his breath hit the air in foggy puffs.
Always a fan of the cold, but an even bigger fan of a bonnie wee lass against
him, he cupped one hand around the back of her neck.
Her
heart thundered against his.
Her
body shuddered.
“Easy,
lass,” he whispered. “I willnae take what you’re unwilling to give.”
“Yet
you hold me prisoner,” she murmured.
“Nay,
we but dance.”
“If
only.”
Her
words were so soft he barely heard them.
Jaw
grinding, he held her securely while pressing tighter against her.
“No,”
she whispered. Then she pulled back, her voice stronger as her eyes met his.
“No.”
“Aye,
lass.” But he loosened his hold and gave her one more word before he let her
go. “Soon.”
About
the Author:
Sky Purington is
the best-selling author of eleven novels and several novellas. A New Englander
born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend.
When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from
the stories of her youth found release in her books.
Sky loves
to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com
Interested in
keeping up with Sky's latest news and releases? Visit Sky's website, http://www.skypurington.com to download
her free App on iTunes and Android or sign up for her quarterly newsletter.
Love social
networking? Find Sky on Facebook and Twitter.
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