How Highland Wolves Differ from Others at Highland Weddings By Terry Spear

Welcome back to History Undressed, guest author, Terry Spear! She writes hot Highlanders with a bite! Enjoy :)

How Highland Wolves Differ from Others at Highland Weddings

By

Terry Spear

In medieval times, brides stood on the groom’s left so that he could easily get to his sword if anyone should attempt to steal his bonny bride. Some churches allow swords during ceremonies—saluting the couple as in military weddings, cutting the cake at the reception, but most grooms don’t wear swords to their own wedding. Unless maybe the party dresses up for a themed wedding.

That said, Highland wolves do things differently. They come armed. Sgian Dubh in stocking and sword at their belt. It’s a matter of pride and their heritage. Not only that, but some of the Highland wolf clans are still fighting. So it’s also a necessity.

Bride stealing? Sure, it even goes on today. It’s also known as marriage by abduction, marriage by capture, and bride kidnapping.

So if you want to protect your bride, better be prepared to fight for her!

At a traditional Highland wolf wedding in contemporary times, the men and boys all wear kilts. But the lassies are free to wear whatever they wish. Now, not all Highland wolves marry in a church. Wolves mate for life and they don’t feel the need to prove to anyone that they are bound to each for life. Unless the groom holds a title, or one of his brothers is first in line if he doesn’t have an heir. Then a marriage for the humans’ sake is necessary as in A Highland Werewolf Wedding.

Then again, sometimes a wolf gets mixed up with a human and then if the woman insists on having to be married—unable to see that wolves don’t need that human condition—a wedding will take place like in Dreaming of the Wolf. You never know when one wolf’s wedding will start a trend though, and others will want to follow suit.

So whether you're at a Highland wolf wedding, or slipping back to medieval times where marriage could be had by consent—no church ceremony necessary—by civil law—you were married.

The church considered them clandestine or irregular marriages if they were not done on the porch of the church no matter how publicly announced they were.

Wolves don't care about all that. Their matings are binding for life.

Just in case you needed to know. So if you mix it up with a wolfish guy, if you say I do to him, you'd better be prepared to make it forever.

With that said, who all is ready for A Highland Werewolf Wedding, some more of those hunky Highland werewolves, and a chance at a win of A Howl for a Highlander?

Tomorrow is the release day for A Highland Werewolf Wedding!!!

One lucky commenter has the chance to win a copy of A Howl for a Highlander, US or Canada address only.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling and award-winning author Terry Spear has written over fifty paranormal romance novels and four medieval Highland historical romances. Her first werewolf romance, Heart of the Wolf, was named a 2008 Publishers Weekly’s Best Book of the Year, and her subsequent titles have garnered high praise and hit the USA Today bestseller list. A retired officer of the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry lives in Crawford, Texas, where she is working on her next werewolf romance and continuing her new series about shapeshifting jaguars. For more information, please visit www.terryspear.com, or follow her on Twitter, @TerrySpear. She is also on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/terry.spear .

A Highland Werewolf Wedding

Elaine Hawthorn is a gray American werewolf, currently out of work, and on a mission to share in a family treasure. When she arrives in Scotland, she nearly has a head-on collision with one hot, kilt-garbed Highlander, and runs him off the road.

Werewolf laird Cearnach MacNeill isn't happy Elaine ruined his car, but he quickly becomes her protector after a misunderstanding lands her right in the middle of two feuding clans. Now he's out to ensure that this sexy female wolf gets her fair share of her clan's treasure. He knows he should leave well enough alone, but it's too late to leave his heart out of it.

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Amanda Scott on Highland Romance

Please join us in welcoming historical romance author, Amanda Scott to History Undressed today! She's sharing a bit about her books. Enjoy!

How do you get the idea for a novel? What is your writing process like? Could you give us an example of you got the idea for any or all of these three books: Dangerous Illusions, Highland Fling, Border Bride.

My writing process varies from book to book, depending on what strikes chords in my imagination. Sometimes, I begin with a character. Other times, it's a particular setting that I want to use, like the Borders or the Highlands, or a castle with an interesting history. I think of the process itself as a sort of jigsaw puzzle. That's the same for every book. I find a piece here and another one there, and pretty soon they begin to add up to the outline for a story.

Border Bride began with the idea of a lass from the Highlands marrying a powerful Border lord, simply because men's attitudes toward women were very different in the two areas. In the Borders, on both sides of the line, traditions and attitudes were similar. Not that Scotsmen could not generally insist on doing things their way all over Scotland, mind you, but few men in the rest of country felt as if they had a God-given right to order their women around.

In sixteenth-century England, a woman had no legal standing except as her father's daughter or her husband's wife. Only widows who did not remarry had standing of their own. In Scotland, a woman had as much right as a man did to plead her case before a clan chief or laird, or the King for that matter. The King of Scots was just the chief of chiefs. Women could inherit wealth and titles in Scotland. They had many, many rights that Englishwomen did not have until the 19^th or 20^th centuries.

So, I asked myself, what if a Highland lass accustomed to offering her opinions and receiving generally respectful hearing marries a Border lord accustomed to instant obedience of his every command, who will dismiss most of her opinions and react badly to defiance? And what if her father orchestrates the marriage to suit an agenda of his own and arranges things in such a way that she has little choice but to comply, despite the Scottish law protecting women from unwanted marriages? What if both main characters have fiery tempers? What if he has a secret and she knows what it is? What if revealing it could get him hanged for treason? What if it concerns Mary Queen of Scots? The "what-ifs" are always the fun part of the process.

With Dangerous Illusions, the primary pieces were the Regency period and English versus Scottish laws pertaining to marriage, to women, and to children. In the case of children, there were literally no differences except that they were possessions of their fathers in England, just as wives were. In Scotland, wives had more rights, but children belonged to their parents, which generally amounted to the same thing as it did in England. The biggest difference was in what happened in cases of divorce, and that's what I chose to focus on for at least the first two books of the four-book series. But, having decided that much, I began to collect the pieces, and for Dangerous Illusions, I began at the Battle of Waterloo and the hero's 'meeting' with the heroine. After the battle, he finds a gilt-framed miniature of her near a dead soldier's body and decides to inform her himself of the man's death. Her family lives near his in Cornwall, and since his father and hers have not spoken for decades, the two of them have not met. What follows is a combination of mistaken identities, a bit of Romeo and Juliet, with a more sinister subplot that will lead to the second book and beyond.

Of course, research always provides numerous pieces for my books, and Dangerous Illusions was no exception. The heroine's niece, Charlotte (Charley) is horse-mad, and it occurred to me that at the time I knew almost nothing about training horses or how women learned to ride sidesaddle. So, when the local libraries failed me (no Google yet), I called the Smithsonian, told them my problem, and an expert talked to me for about twenty minutes after having recommended two excellent books on the subject. I've used details from that conversation and those books in many other stories, too. As a result, I was able to make both Charley and her aunt sound as if they knew what they were doing and what they were talking about. The heroine of Dangerous Illusions is Daintry Tarrant. Tarrant is a Cornish name, and when I traveled to England and Wales

Highland Fling actually began with a serendipitous, chance finding of three items at nearly the same time: a coffee-table size picture book at the University of California (Davis) library, detailing the River Thames through London in 1750 right down to shops on London Bridge, the steps from river to street level; a copy I bought of a fold-out, detailed drawing of London in 1750, showing the river and skyline behind it and including such details as individual houses (with their names) and garden layouts; and last but hardly least, the simple fact that Bonnie Prince Charlie had returned to London secretly in 1750 (having fled Britain after the '45) to persuade English supporters to stir up the whole conflict over the 'rightful' king again.

That gave me one setting for the book, so it was a simple matter to decide that the heroine should be another Highland lass but one whose father had lost his land when the English surged into Scotland. The hero, naturally, would be the English lord who had acquired their land for his own service in defeating the Scots. Add a father who is making illegal whisky, mix with wonderful stories of how such men smuggled their product past English officers wanting to seize it, send the heroine to London to meet her hero Bonnie Prince Charlie to offer Highland support and get herself arrested in the process…Then, when the only name she knows in London is the beast who stole her father's land… =and there you are.

In the process for any book, I do a detailed outline before I begin writing. I also, however, sketch out and write the first few scenes as soon as I know what they will be, and then I figure out what the other big scenes will be. I try always to write the big scenes as soon as I get a handle on them, because I find it easier to connect the dots, so to speak, if I know exactly where I'm going. The more road signs I can create for myself and my characters, the better and faster the work goes.

Leave a comment with your email address for your chance to win! One winner--ebook of your choice: Highland Fling, Dangerous Illusions or Border Bride!

 About the Author

A fourth-generation Californian of Scottish descent, Amanda Scott is the author of more than fifty romantic novels, many of which appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Her Scottish heritage and love of history (she received undergraduate and graduate degrees in history at Mills College and California State University, San Jose, respectively) inspired her to write historical fiction. Credited by Library Journal with starting the Scottish romance subgenre, Scott has also won acclaim for her sparkling Regency romances. She is the recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award (for Lord Abberley’s Nemesis, 1986) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. She lives in central California with her husband.

For more information on Amanda Scott’s novels, please visit the official website.

Macbeth: a smear campaign? by Thursa Wilde

Welcome back to History Undressed, Thursa Wilde! Today she's written another fun post for us--a bit of Shakespeare and a bit of history! Enjoy!

Macbeth: a smear campaign? 

by Thursa Wilde

We all know the story of the murderer with the ambitious wife, Shakespeare’s eponymous King in Macbeth.  But how much of the true tale can we extract from that misty history? Mac Bethad Mac Findlaích (anglicised as Macbeth, son of Finlaech) was born around 1005, grandson of Malcolm II of Scotland. He and Duncan were cousins, and Duncan, like the Shakespearian character, had two sons - Malcolm, who later became Malcolm III and Donalbane, later Donald III.

The Scottish Play calls him Thane of Cawdor, but the real Macbeth was Mormaer of Moray.  (Thane and Mormaer were both Scottish titles). It was from Holinshed’s Chronicles of England, Scotland and Ireland, published in 1577, that Shakespeare lifted the incorrect title. These chronicles are an ambitious account of history from earliest times, but aren’t always based on historical fact. They took earlier references from books like John Fordun’s Chronica Gentis Scotorum, (Chronicles of the Scottish People), written 1363-85, which contained accounts of angels, prophecies and Merlin among other ‘facts’. So either Holinshed’s invented the story of Macbeth and the witches, or a folk-myth developed in the years after Macbeth’s death which Holinshed’s picked up on, and Shakespeare later borrowed. Or maybe there is another reason.

The original decision was that succession to the Scottish throne would alternate between the male issue of the two sons of Kenneth MacAlpin, because of this unwise gambit the line of MacAlpin is littered with poisoned and stabbed bodies. However Malcolm II had been on the throne for 29 years when he decided on his heir, a long time for a Scottish monarch! He was a shrewd leader, and although he only had daughters he married them off to the heirs of families that might otherwise have caused him trouble. So his grandsons, Duncan and Macbeth, were next in line.  Malcolm chose Duncan, the elder of the two, as his heir.

Macbeth had in the meantime married the real Lady Macbeth, Gruach, the widow of his deceased cousin, Gillacomgain and granddaughter of Kenneth III; and Macbeth’s own distant cousin, as she was also Gillacomgain’s niece!  This family tree makes your head spin.

Gillacomgain is implicated in the killing of Macbeth’s father when Macbeth was around 15 years old and he had stolen the Mormaer title. About 12 years later Gillacomgain burned to death in a hall with fifty of his men, and Macbeth became Mormaer of Moray. We don’t know whether Macbeth, or his grandfather, Malcolm II, did the burning.  But you could say Gillacomgain had it coming.

With marriage Macbeth was now related to both branches of the MacAlpin line. This strengthened his position as heir to the Scottish throne. Make of that what you will!

King Malcolm died at Glamis Castle in 1034, allegedly of old age, though some annals say he was killed by his nephews. Duncan then became Duncan I of Scotland. Although his 5 year reign seems mostly peaceful, his nickname was An t-Ilgarach, meaning ‘the diseased’ or ‘the sick’. It is recorded that Macbeth was Duncan’s Dux, or Duke, a highly influential position near the king.

In 1039 the Northumbrians attacked Strathclyde and Duncan retaliated against Durham, but this apparently went badly and he retreated north to find himself in another battle in Moray against his own Macbeth, who must have been plotting an overthrow in his absence, and seemed to have much support. Duncan was not killed in his bed at Glamis Castle as the play suggests, but on a battlefield by Macbeth and an army of Scotsmen. Duncan’s wife and young sons fled into exile.

Macbeth ruled from 1040-1057. According to the Prophecy of Berchan Macbeth is described as ‘a generous king’. In a historical narrative poem, Duan Albanach (Song of the Scots) he is referred to as ‘Mac Bethad the renowned’. So there is no evidence to suggest that he is unpopular, and a seventeen-year rule is good innings. Around 1050 he undertook a pilgrimage to Rome. No one tried to overthrow him in his absence so we can presume his reign was a peaceful one. That is until Malcolm, son of Duncan showed up. 

In 1052 Macbeth must have annoyed Edward the Confessor, King of England, when he gave shelter to some Norman noblemen, because Edward began a long war with Scotland which resulted in Malcolm meeting Macbeth in 1057 on a battlefield in Lumphanan and fatally wounding him. (There’s a pub there now called the Macbeth Arms!) Some historians think that England was behind a plan to re-instate Malcolm on the throne, which might explain why negative propaganda about Macbeth grew up. A popular monarch would need sullying to justify the takeover.

Although old texts do differ about events, there is no supporting evidence that Macbeth and his wife were serial killers. So where did Holinshed’s get their information? Did the English King do a deal with Malcolm, exiled at his court, and was Macbeth’s reputation destroyed as a result? You know what those scheming English are like.

Thursa Wilde is a writer and member of the support team at Highland Titles. Highland Titles sells plots of Scottish land to people all over the world, many of whom have an affinity with Scotland and Great Britain.

A ‘Biased’ View of 1930s Fashions by Afton Locke

Today on History Undressed, I'd like to welcome guest author Afton Locke! She's written a fun post on 1930's fashion. Enjoy!

Rose, Exposed - A ‘Biased’ View of 1930s Fashions

Thank you for hosting me today. I’m excited to discuss 1930s fashions and my recent release, Rose, Exposed, a multicultural historical erotic romance set in the 1930s.

This post is part of the official Rose, Exposed Blog Tour (3/26 - 4/09).         

The grand prize for the tour is vintage-style rose earrings for pierced ears (U.S. shipping address only).

To be eligible, COMMENT on this post. Comment should include the historical time period and geographical setting (when and where) you’d most like to see in a romance.

The tour winner will be announced at http://www.aftonlocke.com/RoseExposedTour.html on April 11th.

A ‘Biased’ View of 1930s Fashions

When I wrote Rose, Exposed, clothing was a big part of my research. I don’t pay a lot of attention to clothes in the first draft. I’m too busy getting down the plot, dialog, and love story. My characters are so eager to get the clothes off they don’t want to be slowed down. During the polishing stage, however, I consider a lot of factors when dressing my characters -- time period, setting, climate, socioeconomic status, personality, plot, and color symbolism.

For my current release, I dressed my hero in simple work clothes because he does physical labor for a living. I emphasized his earthiness with tan homespun and green fabrics. My heroine is in a higher social class but her parents are strict and old-fashioned. Accordingly, I dressed her in nicer fabrics with conservative styles. Because her name is Rose, I made the first dress she appears in a rose print.

Undergarments and hosiery go hand-in-hand with clothing because some can’t be worn without the other. The fact that Rose hates stockings and rarely wears them added to her character. Underwear was a struggle for her too. She went from wearing old-fashioned bloomers to sometimes none at all, enhancing the theme of having her secret exposed.

When I research clothing, I consult a reference book on my bookshelf, which has fashion illustrations for various time periods for men and women. I also use Google’s Images feature a lot. Finding just the right look gives me ideas and helps me visualize what I want. I look at several old sewing patterns and vintage clothes on eBay.

Of all the garments in this book, I had the most fun with evening gowns. While women’s fashions in the 1920s and 1940s tended to form straight lines, dresses and skirts in the 1930s flared from and draped around the body, created beautiful feminine curves. When a woman spins around, the dress cascades around her in a beautiful swirl. The secret to this is cutting fabric on the bias. If I weren’t a life-long seamstress, that research fact might have sounded Greek to me, so I’ll illustrate it for everyone.

Fabric is woven, so it has both vertical and horizontal grains (warp and weft) at right angles to each other. In clothing, the vertical grain goes straight down your body, from collar or waistband to hem. Go to your closet and select a shirt. Try grabbing a piece of the fabric and another piece a couple of inches below it. No give, right? It’s as strong as steel. Try it horizontally and you get the same thing. Now try it with diagonal points and the fabric magically stretches. This is the bias.

Today, sewing patterns with ruffles specify cutting the piece on the bias. The stretch makes the fabric more elastic, allowing a narrow hem to be formed along the curved edge of the ruffle. Even then, sewing a perfect ruffle hem is tedious.

In the 1930s, especially, entire skirts or dresses were cut on the bias. Pattern pieces are printed with lines on them that you match to the grain of the fabric. For a straight skirt, picture the line going straight from top to bottom. For bias skirts, put that line on a 45 degree angle. The following illustration shows a pattern piece on a piece of fabric for each. Solid arrows represent the grain line, and the dashed line is the center line of the garment. The crosshatch shows the weave of the fabric.

Fabrics suited for these fluid evening gowns, as shown in the illustration below from left to right, include: chiffon, crepe-de-chine, silk, and satin.

To read more about the bias cut and 1930s fashions, see:

http://www.fashion-era.com/stylish_thirties.htm

Rose, Exposed

Publisher:  Ellora's Cave Publishing

Release Date:  27 March 2013

eBook ISBN #:  978-14199-45205

Buy eBook:  http://www.ellorascave.com/rose-exposed.html

Stay tuned for reviews and more: http://www.aftonlocke.com/Rose.html

Video/trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bT9x9-Hlhw&feature=youtu.be

(I love creating trailers for all my books!)

Blurb

When Leroy Johnson gets promoted at the new oyster plant on Pearl Point, all he cares about is working hard. When he meets the flirtatious artist Rose Wainwright, however, nothing matters except getting her to the altar and into bed. Healing from a recent loss, he’s not about to let her go too.

Because Rose’s strict, social-climbing father doesn’t approve of dark-skinned Leroy, they court in secret anyplace they can find. Although Leroy’s raw passion can convince her to do almost anything, why can’t he understand she needs freedom, not marriage?

Her father wants her to be white, but Leroy wants her to be black. Playing both sides of the fence leaves this young biracial beauty exposed in more ways than one.

Excerpt (modified)

Rose, Exposed - Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2013 - All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You’re so…dark,” she exclaimed. Instead of the disdain he expected, he heard fascination.

Come on, lady. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a colored man before.

“Yes, I’m dark,” he agreed as he politely removed her hand, “which is why it’s not a good idea for us to sit alone together in this car. Someone might come along and jump to the wrong conclusion.”

A conclusion that could get him beat up or worse with the Klan close by on Oyster Island.

But before he could stop her, she clasped both sides of his face and pressed her sweet mouth to his. Aw, hell. A man only had so much self-control, and she’d just shattered his. Unable to stop himself, he plundered her delicate mouth. Her lips reminded him of rose petals, and he sucked the sweetness out of them as if he were a bee. The more he tasted, the more he wanted.

She opened, giving him access to her even sweeter tongue. Taking a big breath, he pulled away from her.

“We can’t do this. You’re white.”

She looked down at her upturned palms. “Then I really do look white?”

Leroy frowned. “Aren’t you?”

For the first time, her smile disappeared, making him shiver in his wet clothes. “The truth is, I don’t know what I am. I suppose that’s why I took this foolish drive.”

She must be biracial then, he realized, and not forbidden after all. The thought made him want to dance on the hood of the car. She still looked white, though. If he didn’t have the time to court a girl his own color, he sure didn’t have any for a complicated one like this.

“Kiss me again,” she demanded.

Without waiting for him to answer, she locked her hot, damp mouth on his again and tugged hard on his shoulders. Before he knew it, he was on top of her on the front seat. He wished her dress weren’t so thin when long, slender legs shifted restlessly under his. Dizzy with the scent of rain and her, he froze.

At that moment, nothing mattered except having her. He didn’t care if the entire Klan showed up, knocked on the window and caught him making love to her. It had been too damn long since he’d had a woman. He needed to stop this while he still could.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” Lust had turned his voice into a husky croak.

She laughed and touched his face again. “I don’t know. What am I asking for?”

This girl was crazier than he’d first thought. What if someone less honorable than himself had stopped instead? She could’ve been raped.

“A whole lot of trouble.” He sat up. “Look, this is not the time or the place. Now let’s get you home.”

The sooner he could be rid of her—before she derailed him from his job, family, and everything else that mattered—the better.

WIPs Coming Soon

Rose, Exposed is the sequel to Plucking the Pearl, an interracial historical erotic romance.

http://www.aftonlocke.com/pearl.html

I have two more books planned for the Oyster Harbor series. Next up for romance are Sadie and Henry.

In addition to interracial/multicultural historicals, I also plan to keep writing erotic contemporaries.

Can an older woman find love with a hot male stripper? My current WIP, Two Hours to Entice, will answer that question.

Where readers can find me

I will be attending EC’s RomantiCon Oct 10-13, 2013 in Canton, Ohio - http://ecromanticon.com/:

Don’t miss the book signing on Oct 13^th.

I’m also hosting a Fabulous Fusion workshop with Koko Brown and Eve Vaughn to celebrate interracial erotic romance for EC’s Fusion line.

Web site: http://www.aftonlocke.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/afton.locke

Twitter: http://twitter.com/aftonlocke

Newsletter - The Love Chronicle: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thelovechronicle/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3159922.Afton_Locke

Café au Lait Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/cafeaulaitbookclub/

Video of the Week: The Borgia Family Song

I've been under the weather... caught whatever horrid stomach flu my princesses had... Promise to post more of my Scotland trip when I recover! In the meantime, here is a video from one of my fav shows, Horrible Histories...

Scotland Trip -- Day 1 in Edinburgh

Well, I've been home not quite a week, but its taken me this long to get back into some semblance of normalcy after being away for about 9 days.

My dear friend, Andrea and I, went on a lovely voyage to Scotland! It was a fun, adventurous experience, and I'm going to share with you all my pics from each day we were there!

We took an overnight flight, landing in Edinburgh Saturday morning. Having slept a few hours, and being pumped full of tea and adrenaline, we grabbed our rental car and hit the road. (Forgot to add this--when I got into the car, I totally freaked! There was no D for Drive!!! Had to have the guy come over to show me that A was the slot to put the gear in. A for Automatic! LOL, it was looking pretty precarious before that!) After nearly going into a round-about the wrong direction, and making a 36-point turn after turning into a parking lot on the wrong side, we finally made it to our first stop--Edinburgh Castle.

Here is a pic I took near the parking area looking up at the castle. At this point adrenaline was still pumping, but the thought of climbing up made our legs a little weak...

The walkway from the parking lot to the castle is called--Castle Terrace.

Another view of the castle from the walking path.

See the whole in the wall? I zoomed in on this. This could have two uses--a toilet, or a spot to drop boiling water or oil on enemies. I was certainly glad to be a visitor in this era.

A view of the castle from below. Can you imagine warriors climbing these rocks? It was incredibly steep. If they fell, they would most likely not survive. We were amazed by this, because in truth, men did climb this mountain and take possession of the castle during the War for Scottish Independence.

We finally made it to the top. This is a view of the town below, mountains and water in the distance. Just a beautiful, amazing sight. My breath was taken away (not just from the climb).

This is me outside the gate to the castle. I'm looking a little worse for wear after traveling over twelve hours, but I'm still super excited to be there!

A statue of William Wallace outside the castle gate.

A statue of Robert the Bruce outside the gate. We studied the for several minutes before realizing the one with the crown was the Bruce.

I love doors and this one was nearly twice as tall as me!

Through the gate, I had to take a pic of the portcullis, but you can barely see it. Lots of visitors that day!

This is the Scottish National War Museum. It had beautiful stained glass and looked like a castle himself.

The great hall. Look at that amazing ceiling.

A closer look at the hearth, some suits of armor, and a doorway that would have led the king or noble away from the great hall.

Queen Mary's chair

Figures of Robert the Bruce being crowned.

In addition to loving doors, I also love stairs :)

The front figures are Queen Mary being prepared to be crowned at 9 months of age. The figure in the back is Mary grown up--it said she was nearly six feet tall as an adult! An imposing woman, no wonder her cousin Elizabeth was afraid of her.

Yes, we did have to climb into the boxes to take pics, lol



This fascinated me! A cemetery for soldier dogs.

After leaving Edinburgh, I didn't take any more pictures... We had a three hour drive north to Inverness where we'd rented a flat, and believe me delirium was starting to set in as well as darkness. We took a tour through the Blair Castle area at night in search of a bathroom--no rest stops or gas stations to be found. However, we did discover a 20-pence toilet! And we were lucky to have a 20-pence coin! The town was eerily quiet and empty. Not a soul in sight. A little creepy.

We arrived at our rented flat around 8:30 that night, and then drove for another hour -- passing the same Chinese take-out 6 times--before we found a Tesco to buy some food. We were too exhausted to eat out as we'd been awake for over 24 hours with just a little nap. I was so excited they had a ready-made Moroccan cous-cous and vegetable samosas. Yum! Not exactly Scottish, but food music to this vegetarian's ears. Oh, and we met a very handsome young lad who topped-up our UK cell minutes, and then asked us why on earth we'd ever travel to Scotland on holiday. He thought we should be somewhere warm. But honestly, the weather was better than where we'd come from.  Both of us passed out on the big cushy chairs in our living room, and we slept until 11:30 the following day, lol! I haven't slept in that late since college!

Will post more pics of our second day of adventuring, tomorrow!

Cheers!
Eliza

New Release! Notorious Woman!

Happy release day to my alter ego, Annabelle Weston! Today the 3rd book in the Desert Heat series released!

Notorious Woman...

Kate has a bad reputation. Since her pa’s murder, she’s been a whip-wielding, ball-busting hellcat, determined to prove she can run a ranch just as well as any man. Then her little sister goes and hires a new foreman—a foreman who makes Kate tingle in places she shouldn’t be tingling, not if she wants to keep up a tough façade. When Jake takes liberties by kissing her—never mind where he kisses her—she clocks him in the chin then hopes he’ll kiss her some more. What’s happening to her?

Jake isn’t just at the ranch to help run the place. He made a bet he could tame Kate, a bet that would give him the money he needs for his own piece of land. He never expected her to be so ornery…or taste so sweet. And he never expected to like her more when she’s cantankerous. Unfortunately, it’s a bet he can’t afford to lose, even though he’s already lost his heart.

Inside Scoop: This historical romp is a sexy Western take on The Taming of the Shrew.

An Excerpt From: NOTORIOUS WOMAN

Copyright © ANNABELLE WESTON, 2013

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

About a quarter mile from the gate, he came upon a farmhouse, what appeared to be a bunkhouse on the left and a shed for a farrier on the right. Both could use a coat of fresh stucco. As Jake rode up to the house, he came to the conclusion these ladies were over their pretty little heads.

A chicken coop listed to one side. A few chickens scratched the dry earth. He doubted they laid a decent egg to breakfast on. The first winter storm would most likely knock the coop over. No self-respecting coyote would have any trouble breaking in and helping himself to a not-so-plump chicken dinner.

There was a good-sized barn with an empty corral behind it. Beyond the corral, a pasture where livestock should be grazing. He frowned. The girls had no idea how to run a ranch and obviously that idiot of a foreman who had worked for their pa didn’t either. Nobody had done a lick of work in a long time. Damn good thing he’d come along when he did. He’d fix the place right up.

Whoa there, boy! What was he doing? Thinking like that would have him trying to make a permanent home out of Crowley ranch. That wasn’t how it was going to be. He was going to win this wager and then get on to Texas where the real cattlemen lived. In his pocket would be a fat purse—enough to buy his own place.

Best to keep his goal in mind, else he’d wind up draining his blood and sweat on this spread with nothing to show for his effort.

Kate Crowley came out on her porch carrying a lit coal-oil lamp as the sun was about to set. She wore riding clothes and a hat. Thankfully, he didn’t see any whip or other weapon.

A gust of wind whipped her loose hair and reddened her cheeks. He had to admit she made a picture of Western country womanhood any man would be itching to come home to. The fact that for a split-second he thought of coming home to her disturbed him greatly.

Her eyes met his and he couldn’t help but notice taut nipples beneath her blouse. Jake sucked in a breath, his own body reacting with sudden lust. She drew a wool shawl tighter around her shoulders. It hugged her curves and gave the impression of vulnerability. She appeared sturdy enough, he reckoned, but there was no mistaking she was holding her own against a stacked deck.

“You found us,” she said kindly. In the dying light, Jake could see the gratitude reflected in her eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” Jake tipped his hat. He couldn’t afford to be sorry for her plight. Like he’d told the boys at the saloon, her dilemma wasn’t his concern. In six weeks, he’d be a man of means. Most likely, the sisters would be on their way back East, where ladies belonged. “You here to check on my sobriety?”

“Do I need to?”

He chuckled. She gave as good as she got.

“Come with me,” she said and stepped down from her perch. “I’ll show you where to put your gear.”

Like a general who’d just given orders, she marched off, her head high. He couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips. No matter how much she tried to be one of the boys, this woman had virtues no man could ignore.

Resolve twitched his lips as he pictured her walking like that without any clothes on. Her ass would sway and dimple with each step. He imagined the curve of her bottom as he held her. Damn if he didn’t wonder what she’d be like underneath him. Would her fire scorch him?

His cock grew hard, pressing uncomfortably against his denim. He adjusted his stance, giving himself a chance to settle down.

Jake led Rascal to the bunkhouse where Kate stood waiting by the open door. She went inside, hung the lantern on a wooden peg and set the bedding on the nearest bunk. Her hands lingered a moment on the rough mattress, and seeing her bent over like that, Jake had the urge to come up behind her and press his aching cock against the curve of her buttocks.

Clearing his throat, hoping to gain some control of his lust, he asked, “Where are the other wranglers?” Jake poked his head inside.

“There aren’t any others,” she said, furrowing her forehead.

He raised a brow. She had to be joking. “You hired me to be a foreman. You mean to tell me I’m the only hombre working here?”

Her lips pressed together as she watched him, almost as if she was annoyed that he would question her. But question her he would. This was not the job he’d agreed to. Foreman was one thing. Doing the job of a dozen wranglers wasn’t.

“You’re our only employee. We can’t afford to hire any more help right now.”

“How in the heck do you expect to get the considerable amount of work that needs doing finished by the time winter rolls in?” He stared hard at her. “Which will be sooner than you think.”

Kate stepped forward, her shoulders pulled back, breasts pushed tight against her blouse. The intent he knew was to appear taller, stronger, but instead she looked hotter than hell and had him thinking of hauling her into his arms to feel the softness pressed against him. “I intend to do my share of the work. My sister too.”

Jake let out a whistle. “You must be joshing. I can’t bring cows down from these hills with a couple of women.”

Her eyes glowed in the lamplight. “That’s exactly what we are going to do, Mr. Madden. Are you telling me you’re not able to do the job?”

Jake pushed his hat back on his head. Was she questioning his abilities? He didn’t like what he saw but he wasn’t going to back down with so much at stake.

“I didn’t think so.” She rested her hands on her hips. Ample, curving hips. “You can put your horse in the barn.”

“No thanks. He’ll do fine in the corral. No use spoiling him.”

“Suit yourself.”

When she brushed past him, heat encompassed him. Instinctively Jake reached out, stopping her. She glanced up at him, fire filling her eyes. He breathed deep. She smelled of flowers, sugar. Gripping a tendril of her loose hair, he twirled it around his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was soft, husky, giving away that she was more affected by his simple touch than her words showed.

What was he doing? He wanted to kiss her. To touch her.

Instead Jake shook his head, pulling himself from whatever spell had overtaken him. He blinked a few times, dropping his hand to his side.

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