Her wonderfully imaginative stories include her debut novel, Beyond a Highland Whisper, and two new paranormal romances, The Highlander’s Fury and Eternity’s Mark, which won Kensington Brava and RT Book Reviews 2011 Writing with the Stars Contest.
Today, Maeve treats us to an exciting excerpt from her March 2 release, The Highlander’s Fury.
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An average day in the life of an immortal Fury?
Until Ciara’s goddess mothers convince her to seduce a brooding mortal and bear the man a gifted child. All she has to do is swap places with his betrothed. A simple task become the seductive wife, bear the man a child and train the young one in the Ways. Once the boy reaches seven years of age, they’ll swap her back with the wife Faolan thinks he selected and Ciara can resume her job of rousting wickedness from the world.
Faolan MacKay’s advisors plague him daily about his matrimonial duties as laird, dragging prospects from across the Highlands: plump dowries attached to each one.
Faolan’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He’d rather go straight to the fiery pits of Hell than down the wedding aisle. Out of desperation, a plan takes seed. He’ll select a wife he can ignore. There’s just one problem with this foolproof theory. Nobody ignores Ciara.
Against his better judgment, he’s enthralled with the woman and to Ciara’s surprise, this strange thing called love burns hotter than her hunger for vengeance.
At the end of the seven years the ruse is up, all will return to as it was. Can the bond of love overcome the mandate of the ultimate powers?
"What the hell did ye find wrong with that one? She’s a well-bred lass with a tempting dowry, and ye’re a blind man if ye missed those breasts."
Faolan ignored the explosive advisor, staring down at the sea where it white-capped against the blackened walls of the keep. Damn, the man’s voice scraped his nerves raw. He’d give his best dagger if the old fool would cease this endless prattle.
"Ye must marry, Faolan. Ye know as laird, ’tis your duty to your clan. Do ye no’ wish to leave an heir to protect us when ye’ve gone?"
"Shut up, Fergus! I weary of your banter. ’Tis all ye’ve blathered about since father died and I’ve heard all I intend to hear." Scraping his fists atop the roughened stone battlement, Faolan glowered at the gray-haired man. "If ye’re a wise man who values his hide, ye’ll haul yer nagging arse down off this roof and find someone else to nettle."
Fergus widened the stance of his knobby, bowed legs and puffed his chest as he stood his ground. A stubborn glint flashed in his watery blue eyes as he jutted his grizzled chin a bit higher. He hooked his thumbs into the top of his kilt. "I’ll no’ leave here until ye tell me why ye refused Lady McGonagall. Colum, Ranald, and I struggled with that alliance for months. Ye’ve no’ exactly made this easy, ye understand?"
"Who the hell is the laird here and who is the damn advisor?" Faolan clenched his teeth as a distant streak of lightning flickered across the horizon. Frustration pounded against his senses, lengthening into icy claws of dread.
Faolan lifted his face to the rising wind, narrowing his eyes to the roiling storm clouds gathering to the north. One deep breath of the electrified wind told him he neared disaster. He’d managed a bit of control over his emotions. He would be damned if he lost his temper over this sorry business and unleash a raging tempest.
Glancing to the sky, Fergus retreated a step, coughed, and took a fortifying breath before stepping forward again. "Ye know I mean ye no dishonor, Faolan. But ’tis time ye chose a wife. I understand why ye find it so difficult. But ’tis not like we’ve offered unsavory prospects."
Faolan thought back over all the women Fergus and the other advisors had selected. No, he couldn’t say they hadn’t been comely maids. Hell’s fire. He wanted nothing to do with a wife. Uneasiness chugged in his gut as the agitated gaze of the spindly legged old man bored right through his center. Fergus meant well, as did all the MacKay advisors. Faolan snorted as bitterness lashed through his thoughts. The advisors had their sights on increasing the strength and wealth of the clan. They sought security and advantageous alliances. They wouldn’t give up until he stood shackled to a plump, healthy dowry.
As another flash of lightning lit the clouds off to the east, Faolan smiled as it all became clear. Every muscle in his body relaxed with his newfound plan. He exhaled a relieved breath and leaned back against the wall. It all seemed so simple. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Let them accomplish their obsession to saddle him with a wife. He knew the perfect choice. "Fergus, never mind about Lady McGonagall. I’d prefer not to go into details as to why she wasna the one. But there is a lass I would like for ye to approach. In fact, their lands adjoin ours."
"Their lands adjoin ours?" Fergus frowned, scrubbing a gnarled, shaking hand across the gray stubble peppering his chin. "Ye canna mean…" Fergus’s jaw dropped and he stared at Faolan with an unblinking stare.
"Aye." Faolan nodded. "Speak with her father immediately. I hear Gordon Sinclair has searched for a husband for Dierdra for years and her bride price is famed to be quite promising."
"But she’s—" Fergus stammered.
"Yes," Faolan interrupted. "She’s exactly the one I need."
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Can love prevail over the dark magic
of a woman scorned?
The last time Latharn MacKay walked among his kinsman was in Scotland of 1410. Sensuous and charismatic, all the women wanted him, but none could capture his heart. Latharn's charm became his curse when a dark sorceress didn’t take rejection well. She snared his soul into a crystal globe until the one woman destined to be his love whispered his release. Now all Latharn has to do is find her and guide her to him without speaking a word.
One of the youngest archeologists in St Louis of 2010, Nessa credits one thing for this achievement: the recurring dream of a heart-stopping Highlander since the summer she turned eighteen years old. Little does she know, he's not some fantasy cooked up by her subconscious. He’s a trapped soul determined for Nessa to end his six centuries in hell.
A sexy Scot. A mystical inheritance.
What could go wrong?
Veterinarian Hannah MacPherson knows better than to believe in love at first—or any—sight.
True, being swept away by Taggart de Gaelson to the vast Scottish castle she’s mysteriously inherited is uber-romantic. The legacy is totally legitimate, and its messenger is big, broad-shouldered, and smokin’ in more ways than one…
Too bad Taggart forgot to mention that Hannah’s also a Guardian of magical dragons called the Draecna. And as Hannah’s sworn otherworldly protector, Taggart is honor-bound not to lay a hand on her, no matter how close he gets…
But turning duty into pleasure is just too tempting. And for Hannah, mastering her powers and saving two worlds from evil will be way easier than showing one hardheaded warrior that breaking all the rules means they are eternally made for each other…
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The Highlander’s Fury / Available in E-book and Paperback from
Beyond a Highland Whisper / Available in E-book and Paperback from
Eternity’s Mark / Available in E-book and Paperback from
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