Highland Brides of Skye Book Tour & Giveaway

When
a return trip home from a clan meeting ends in a bloodbath, Laird
Caeleb MacLeod begins his search for the clansman who betrayed them.Little does he know he need look no further than his bed.

As
the housekeeper for Laird Caeleb MacLeod, Gwendolyn is in a position
to learn many things important to her master, Malcom Donald, captain
to the Donald laird. Now she must choose between destroying the man
she loves and saving the sister being held hostage by
Malcolm.

PREVIOUSLY
PUBLISHED AS TREASURES OF SKYE

Foryears, master thief Helena Donald has lived at Glenwood Abbey and
submitted to Malcolm Donald’s bidding. Desperate to break free of
his control, Helena agrees to steal the MacLeod Faire Flag for
Malcolm for she intends to sell the flag and start a new life far
from Malcom. When Helena is caught in a blizzard, she prefers to die
in the cold wasteland rather than return to the abbey.

Betrothed
to Lady Allison, the granddaughter of the dying MacKenzie laird,
Jacob MacKinnon stands ready to do his duty and unite their twoclans. But enemies watch, and plan to prevent the uniting of those
two powers.

Linnae
Donald is a lowly serving girl. How is she supposed to tell Laird
MacKenzie that the granddaughter he’s mistaken her for died when
their carriage was attacked?

She
can’t break a dying man’s heart. Neither can she do what Jacob
MacKinnon asks and help him prevent a war by pretending to be Lady
Alison…and marrying him.

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Deceptions Excerpt

Linnae kept her attention on the scenery passing outside the carriage and pretended not to
notice the other two maids’ giggles.
“Cook said that Jacob MacKinnon can make a lass swoon simply by looking at her,” the
younger maid, Rebecca, said.
Lady Alison shifted on the carriage seat beside Linnae. “Perhaps it is true,” her mistress
said. “Such a man would only marry a beautiful woman.”
Linnae hid a smile. Lady Alison referred to herself, of course—and failed to add that her
grandfather, Laird MacKenzie, had betrothed her to Laird MacKinnon in order to bind the
MacKenzie and MacKinnon clans. Lady Alison could have been horse-faced and Laird
MacKinnon would have married her. Lady Alison, however, was not horse-faced. No doubt,
Laird MacKinnon would be more than pleased to have the flaxen-haired beauty as his bride,
even if she was only fifteen.
“I believe Linnae is laughing at me,” Lady Alison said.
Linnae looked at her and said in an innocent voice, “Nae, my lady, I would never do that.”
Lady Alison arched a haughty brow. “Do you know the penalty for laughing at your
mistress?”
Linnae dropped her gaze. “A lashing.”
“A tongue lashing, ye saucy maid.” Alison bumped Linnae’s shoulder with her own.
Linnae looked up and widened her eyes. “And you are very good at dosing out tongue
lashings, my lady.”
Lady Alison grinned. Linnae didn’t miss the roll of Rebecca’s eyes and Dina’s answering
look, but didn’t care. They were simply jealous of the friendship that had sprung up between
Linnae and her mistress. No one was more surprised than Linnae that the spoiled noblewoman
had taken to her with such force. After nearly two years of Linnae’s service, Alison rarely went
anywhere without Linnae.
When Lady Alison had received the message from her brother David that their grandfather
had betrothed her to Jacob MacKinnon, her one condition of acceptance was that Linnae go
with her. He’d sent Dina and Rebecca, as well, for David MacKenzie wouldn’t have it said that
he’d sent his sister to marry the MacKinnon laird without at least three maids in attendance. Of
course, he didn’t accompany them, just as he hadn’t been home for more than a few weeks
during the last two years.
“ ‘Tis warm for that cloak you’re wearing, do ye not think, Linnae?” Dina said.
Before Linnae could answer, Lady Alison said, “Hold your tongue, Dina. Ye are just jealous
because I gave the dress and cloak to Linnae.”
Dina’s eyes widened.
Alison tossed her head. “I might decide to send ye back to my brother’s home.”
Tears filled Dina’s eyes.
Alison rolled her eyes. “Good heavens, do no’ cry. ‘Tis your own fault for being cruel to
Linnae.”
“She wasnae really cruel,” Linnae said gently. “And she is right. The carriage is warm. But I
admit, I like the brush of fine cloth against my arms.”
Alison’s eyes narrowed and Linnae feared she had miscalculated. Alison was loyal to a
fault, but that fault often came in the form of a childish demand to be obeyed. She might insist
Dina had been cruel and deserved punishment.
Dina stared at her hands clasped in her lap and said in a small voice, “The rich purple of the
dress does flatter your hair, Linnae.”
“Just as I knew it would,” Alison said. “Linnae and I have the same fair hair.”
Dina looked up, eyes wide, but said nothing.
“I saw Laird MacKinnon once,” Rebecca said, in an obvious attempt to divert Alison’s
attention. “He is perfect.”Linnae sighed. More talk of Jacob MacKinnon wasn’t wise, at this point.
“He can break a tree in half with his bare hands,” Rebecca went on.
Linnae snorted. She knew nothing of the man save the gossip that had swept through the
castle when word of the betrothal had reached them a month ago—and would wager neither did
Rebecca. It was irrational to believe that a man—or a beast, for that matter—could break a tree
in half with his bare hands or make a woman swoon at the sight of him. If such a man existed,
he wouldn’t live among mortals. As long as a man had a good name and a good family, an
honest woman needed nothing more. Lady Alison should be so fortunate to marry such an
esteemed laird.
Rebecca giggled. “Ye are very fortunate, mistress.”
Alison’s fingers groped for Linnae’s on the seat beside her. Linnae grasped Alison’s hand
and gently squeezed. True to her station in life, Lady Alison was a maiden. Her apprehension
about arriving at her grandfather’s home to immediately marry and be bedded by a man she
hadn’t seen since she was six years old had grown into an anxiety that had kept her awake the
last two nights.
Linnae once again turned her attention out the window and Lady Alison rested her head on
Linnae’s shoulder. Their carriage curved along a steep incline and Linnae peered out the
window into a deep ravine. Patches of bluebells, primroses and hyacinths colored the
landscape.
Linnae’s stomach churned. Her own anxiety had grown along with Lady Alison’s.
After the wedding, Jacob MacKinnon would take Lady Alison away from Eilean Donan Castle to
his home on Skye. Linnae hadn’t been on Skye since she ran away from Glenwood Abbey two
and a half years ago. In truth, she hadn’t planned on ever returning. Dunakin Castle, seat of the
MacKinnon clan, commanded the strait of Kyle Akin between Skye and the mainland. From the
tower, she would be able to see the loch and hills as far as the eye could reach. That would be
as far into Skye as she dared venture for—
A deafening cry drowned out her thoughts, causing Linnae to jolt in her seat. The carriage
listed to the right and the other three women slammed against Linnae’s side of the coach. One
woman crashed into her. Linnae’s head struck the side of the carriage and dull pain throbbed.
The vehicle righted and the women scrambled back into their seats.
“Holy God, what happened?” Lady Alison demanded as she leaned toward the window.
Linnae reached for her. “Nae! My lady,” she cried, but her warning came too late. The
carriage began to tip.
The other women screamed and slid against the wall again. The carriage crashed onto its
side—then began to tumble. Linnae’s head slammed the cushion, then she was thrown against
Lady Alison. Her ladyship flailed. They struck the front of the carriage as it came to a grinding
halt. And silence.
Her head pounded. Linnae raised her hand to her head and drew a breath at the pain. Her
heart thrummed in her ears. What had happened?
Angry male shouts mingled with the clash of steel. She tried to concentrate on the noise, but
it seemed to come from a distance. Linnae grasped the door handle and dragged herself to a
sitting position. Her head spun. She squinted in an effort to discern her surroundings. The
interior of the carriage swam into blurry focus. Two of the women—one Lady Alison—lay
motionless beside her. Linnae groped for a pulse at Lady Alison’s neck. Tears pressed against
the backs of her eyes when she detected no heartbeat.
“Ye cannae be dead, my lady,” she said through tears. “Wake up.” But the young woman
remained motionless.
Linnae brushed Lady Alison’s hair from her face and searched for any signs of life in the
eyes that stared up at her. This wasn’t possible. Her mistress couldn’t be dead. Tears streamed
down her face, but she forced herself to examine the other two women. Dina lay with her neck
at an odd angle. Linnae wasn’t surprised when she felt no pulse in Dina’s neck, but her stomach
churned and she forced back tears as she felt for a pulse on the young Rebecca’s neck. She,
too, was dead. Linnae rose and realized she stood on the roof of the carriage. She edged past
her mistress to the door and shoved it open, nearly falling out. She caught herself and
straightened. She gasped at sight of the carriage walls crushed inward like paper.
Shouts yanked her from the shock. She stumbled around the side of the carriage, then
stopped. The horses lay in a tangle of leather and harness. Shouts yanked her attention upwhere a dozen men fought atop the hill. Her eyes tracked the skid marks the carriage had
carved from the top of the hill to the steep ravine. Sweet heaven, how had she survived?
Two men dismounted their horses and began scanning the ravine. She ducked behind the
carriage, then stilled for three heartbeats until her head cleared. Carefully, she peered around
the edge. Her heart beat wildly. The men had started down the hill.
Her mind muddled. What was she to do? She thought of her female companions—and Lady
Alison’s bag, which carried her mother’s ruby necklace and the gold band she was to give Laird
MacKinnon when they married. Linnae forced back tears and sent up a quick prayer for the
women’s souls, then quickly retrieved Lady Alison’s satchel. She pressed a kiss to Alison’s
forehead, then climbed out of the carriage. With trembling fingers, she felt for the knife sheathed
and strapped to her belt and nearly burst into tears when she found it hadn’t fallen out during
the accident. With a prayer that she wouldn’t have to use it, she stumbled toward the trees.
Keeping out of sight of the road, she stayed inside the tree line and continued away from
the clang of steel-upon-steel. Sounds of the fighting waned, and the thunderous pounding of
horses’ hooves racing along the high road above drew nearer.
The trees began to thin and she reached a stone arch bridge that crossed a creek. She
started across then froze at the sound of riders approaching. Cloak gripped tightly about her,
she scurried down the incline and under the arch. Her heartbeat matched the thunder of hooves
as they galloped past. Loose dirt fell like rain into the rapid waters below. With trembling hands,
she clung to the cloak until quiet reigned.
Fear cramped her stomach, but she picked her way back up the incline and ran across the
bridge. Night would soon be upon her and sleeping in the woods without food or protection
wasn’t a fate she wished to consider.
“This way!” a man shouted.
Linnae whirled. Three men trekked through the brush toward her. How had they found her?
She caught sight of her small footprints in the moist ground.
Oh, sweet Heavens!
Linnae whirled and barreled into a broad expanse of plaid. She leapt back and jerked her
gaze up to the face of a tall man with stormy blue eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. She
froze. Bootfalls sounded behind her. Linnae clutched the satchel close to her breast. Three
other giant brutes came into view.
The first man eyed her like a wolf about to attack. Linnae broke eye contact as the others
circled her.
She yanked the knife from the sheath strapped to her belt. “Take another step closer and I
will kill ye.” The trembling inside her stomach began to work its way through her body and she
prayed her hand wouldn’t betray her terror.
“Ye need no’ fear us, lass,” the first said.
The concern in his voice surprised her. She stared.
“I am Laird Jacob MacKinnon. My men and I were expecting you this morning. When ye did
no’ arrive, we began searching for you. I am only sorry we arrived too late.”
Laird MacKinnon? Lady Alison’s betrothed. Memory flashed of the women’s description of
him, tall, muscular and handsome. Lady Alison would never see him for herself.
Tears sprang to her eyes and she dropped the hand gripping the knife to her side. “The
carriage went off the cliff. The others—” She broke off.
“We saw the others, my lady,” he said in a soft voice. “I am sorry.”
A lump formed in her throat.
“We must go,” he said.
She slid the knife into its sheathe, then remembered the men. “I saw men fighting on the
hill.”
His mouth thinned. “Aye. We chased the curs. They attacked your party.”
“Attacked us? Why?”
“I dinnae know, but we will find out soon enough. Come, we will escort ye home. Our horses
are just over the hill.” He winged an am arm toward her.
Linnae slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He covered her fingers with his large
warm hand and squeezed. She clutched close the satchel and was grateful for the warmth of his
hand on hers as they tramped through the woods. Linnae hurried to keep up with his long
strides until they reached the top of the hill. Half a dozen other men waited with their horses.

“Let me take your satchel, lass.”
Before she could respond, he took the satchel and hung it from the pommel, then grasped
her waist and hoisted her onto the horse’s rump. He mounted in front of her and clicked his
tongue. The horse lurched into motion. Linnae threw her arms around his waist, cheek pressed
against his back, and hugged him tight in order to keep from slipping off. The scent of musk and
burnt wood filled her nostrils. His stomach muscles flexed beneath her fingers.
This man would have soothed Lady Alison’s fears. Memory of Alison’s motionless body
brought tears. Silently, Linnae gave into her sorrow and cried into Laird MacKinnon’s plaid.

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