To Conquer a Scot

Time-traveling isn’t what Abigail Cross had in mind for her Scottish vacation, nor was a potential marriage to the Laird Aedan Macleod. The fact that the obnoxious, yet hot, and definitely sexy Highlander sees the world very differently than she does, is beside the point.

Aedan Macleod knows what he wants in a wife, and Abigail certainly doesn’t meet his Highland standard, even though he must rein in his desire because beautiful, opinionated Abigail would never suit as a laird’s wife.

Tempers flare yet passion is undeniable, as Abby navigates her way in seventeenth-century Scotland. When two rival clans threaten the maddening twenty-first-century minx who’s captured Laird Aedan’s heart, the mighty Highlander is willing to sacrifice everything to keep Abigail safe.

To Save a Savage Scot

Kenzie Jacobs is fascinated by a portrait of the roguish Highlander, Black Ben, which hangs in her ancestral home. There’s a mystery surrounding his death, and Kenzie longs to solve it by traveling through time to 17th century Scotland—and perhaps meet the gorgeous laird who haunts her dreams.

Black Ben, Laird of Ross, suited his dark name more than ever since his wife died in childbirth. He has vowed never to marry again. But Kenzie is an intoxicating elixir and even more potent than whiskey. As confusing and crazy as she may seem, he can’t get her out of his system. But there’s no way they can ever work, as she does not fit into his plans.

Fate has brought them together, and Ben can’t stop Kenzie from returning to her time, though he would do anything–except marry her–to keep her with him. Kenzie has a life to get back to but leaving her favorite, though infuriating, Highlander behind, might be the toughest thing she’ll ever have to do.

To Win a Highland Scot

Fate brought them together—or was it something else entirely?

The Fae took everything Scottish warrior Boyd Macleod had. Cursed and alone, he existed for a hundred years but never truly lived. Not until she arrived. The Sassenach is quick-witted, outspoken, and entirely too beautiful for his peace of mind. She stirs in him a hunger he hasn’t felt in…he can’t even remember how long. Now, that hunger won’t be quenched by anything short of possessing her—mind, body, and soul—forever.

Maya Harris has no idea what kind of strange magic threw her into the past. All she knows for sure is that she doesn’t belong here. She can’t afford to let herself get too attached to Boyd. The powerful, sensual Highlander is not for her. But the longer she spends with him, the harder it becomes to remember why she shouldn’t give in to his heated seduction…

A river of time flows between them. Will love be enough to bridge it? Or will Boyd and Maya remain star-crossed forever?

1601 Highlands, Scotland

He should have locked her up when he had the chance. His sisters were the bane of his life. Aedan MacLeod, Laird of Druiminn Castle, stormed toward the small cottage his youngest sister Gwen used while treating the sick and infirm.
Not even the calming view of the ocean could tamper his temper. The fact he’d heard whispers from the servants that Gwen was “up to something” as they’d put it, had given him enough cause to chase her down today and demand an explanation and a promise that she was not.
“Gwen!” he called out as he neared, hearing the muffled reply from inside. He burst through the door, startling the elderly woman who was hobbling out. Aedan waited for her to go before shutting the door and catching his sister’s gaze. “I’ve heard whispers.”
“Whispers?” She smiled and his annoyance increased. “What sort of whispers?”
“You’re forbidden to use magic, Gwendolyn. We’ve had this conversation before and it’s certainly not one I want to repeat.”
“Och, I am in trouble when ye use my full name. Tell me what you’ve heard this time. I’m sure it’s nothing to concern yer wee mind.”
“The servants are talking about ye. Stating how ye’re all secretive again, sneaking away to this cottage at all times of day and night. Picking lots of herbs and such.”
“Herbs ye say.” Gwen laughed, walking over to a nearby cupboard and getting down a bowl. “And this equates to magic?”
“I know what ye are capable of, lass. Dinna think for one moment I’m not aware of what could happen to you, or this family, should it be known. You know as well as I, ye’d be dead and there’d be nothing I could do for ye.”
She waved away his concerns and started to pummel lavender flowers with a mortar and pestle. She continued with her tasks, ignoring him. “Well,” he prompted.
“Brother, I’ve been using magic since I was a babe and no harm has been done. It’s the same now. Ye worry too much.”
“I know you’re up to something, and I demand to know what it is. Braxton mentioned it to me yesterday after he came back from visiting ye here.”
“Braxton told ye, did he? That’ll teach me to trust him.”
He watched as she took her frustration out on the plants that hung from a wooden rack above her work table. He dismissed the flicker of guilt that he’d possibly caused trouble for his fellow clansman and glowered at Gwen instead. She pulled the leaves off with enough force that the rack rocked above their heads.
“He was concerned. Ye know the lad loves ye, and like me, he doesn’t like you putting yourself at risk. So tell me what I want to know. Why are ye being so secretive all of a sudden? What are ye planning?”
She shook her head, her red curls bouncing over her shoulders. “Nothing at all. I assure ye. I’m behaving myself, as the laird’s sister should. Do not worry, Aedan. Everything will turn out for the best.”
“Yes, but what is this ‘best’ ye speak of? That concerns me.”
She didn’t reply, merely shrugged. Aedan fisted his hands. Obstinate, pigheaded wench. “Ye better not be trying to meddle in who I choose for a wife. ’Tis none of yer business, and I willna take nicely to ye using magic to sway women to warm me bed.”
She slammed down the pestle and glared back at him. “I assure ye, I would never interfere in your grand plans for a wife. I know you’ll marry someone who has an opinion, a mind, and the willingness to share their thoughts when required.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated.” He walked toward the door of her cottage and placed his hands on his hips. Better there than her neck. “Ye know what I want in a wife and I’ll find her myself. So if ye don’t mind, and if ye don’t want me to lock ye in the castle dungeons, you’ll behave and keep out of my business. I may not know what ye be planning, but I know you’re up to something and no doubt it’ll involve me. I’ve put up with a lot of ye tricks over the years, but with the clans coming for the games, it’s time ye grew up. I’ll no longer stand for it.”
His sister curtsied and he ground his teeth. He might as well be talking to a stone wall. “Dinna push me on this, Gwen.”
“Of course not, brother. When have I ever not listened to ye?”
He sighed and cursed as he left before he was tempted to strangle the idiocy out of her. Why couldn’t his parents have had sons? Brothers, right at this moment, seemed like a blissful thought indeed.