Happy Friday! Today's excerpt comes from my new novel, Conquered by the Highlander, the first in the new Stolen Brides spin-off series! I shared the prologue here a few months ago. Now how about a snippet from Chapter One? I hope you enjoy!
ABOUT THE BOOK:
A hero determined to
have it all...
After losing his betrothed to a
Lowlander, Laird Gabriel MacKinnon is charged with saving her cousin along with
a brood of children from an impenetrable castle. Though, the lady he’s been
tasked to protect has been accused of a heinous crime, Gabriel has no fear of
her. In fact, he’s a little irritated at the prospect of delivering her to her
kin. But this hardened, cold warrior just may find his heart melting, for the
hellion brings out a passionate side he’d thought long buried.
A lady who will stop at
nothing to see him fail...
Lady Brenna has had more than her share
of hardships and when freedom looks to be on the brink of her horizon, she’s
not about to let some moody Highlander take it all away. She’ll stop at nothing
to keep her children safe—and to guard her heart—even though the warrior’s
heated kiss threatens to change every vow she’s ever made and every belief
about love she’s ever known.
EXCERPT:
LAIRD Gabriel “Wolf” MacKinnon was
ready to kill someone.
Anger sliced a path through
his veins, coiling his muscles. A snarl curled his lips. He gripped his sword
tight and circled the bastard standing in the center of the bailey. Ginger hair
pulled back with a leather thong, the warrior even grinned a little, creases
cutting his tanned cheeks. His dark eyes sparkled.
Chief Lamont.
Gabriel’s enemy.
Overhead, the summer sun
broke free of any clouds and shone on them with glee—as if the heavens
themselves were laughing at Gabriel’s expense. Bloody hell.
“How dare ye step foot on
my land after what ye did. Either ye’re a damned fool or ye’ve got bloody
ballocks of iron. If I were ye, I’d be preparing to meet my maker, ye whoreson!”
Nearly a decade had passed since
the filthy maggot had stolen his woman and Gabriel was still spitting mad.
Lamont pulled his own sword
from his scabbard, fury flaring in his eyes. Gabriel was glad the foolish grin
had been wiped from his face.
A dozen MacKinnons drew
their weapons, leaping forward, but Gabriel warned them away. He would handle
the bloody jackanapes on his own.
“’Twas Montgomery’s doing
and ye know it,” Lamont offered in defense of his actions.
Gabriel shook his head with
disgust. “Dinna lie, I can see it plain on your face.”
“My wife fairs well, in
case ye were wondering.”
If that wasn’t Lamont’s
attempt to goad Gabriel’s anger, he didn’t know what could be.
The “Wolf” broke free and
Gabriel let out a battle cry as he arched his sword bringing it down on Lamont,
who, disappointingly, parried at the last second. The warrior was strong and
their swords clashed, sparks flying. He held still, gripping on to Gabriel’s
wrist as he stared him straight in the eye. Fury gone, replaced with something
close to pleading.
“I need to speak with ye,
MacKinnon. We can fight later.”
“What for?” Even the
mention of her name sent his heart
into aching spams. He’d fallen in love with Ceana Montgomery, sister to Laird
Jamie Montgomery, eight years before and had been prepared to wed her when a
deal had been brokered between the two bastard lairds and she’d been ripped from
his arms. “Have ye come to gloat?”
Gabriel didn’t wait for the
man to answer, instead he leapt back and launched in to another attack. Anger
blinding him to everything save revenge against the man who’d stolen away his
bride.
“Dammit, Wolf, cease this.
I’ll not kill ye and Ceana would dismember me if I even injured ye.”
“Ye’d better kill me, else I’ll
slice ye at the neck here and now.” Holding his sword steady, Gabriel glanced
back toward the keep briefly to be certain his mother had not come outside. There
was no need for her to lay witness to his rage at their visitor and, even
though he was laird, she’d feel obligated to make an attempt at breaking up
their fray.
They continued to circle
one another, attacking, blocking, until sweat poured down their spines and over
their brows. A crowd had discreetly grown around them, no one making a sound
for fear they’d be turned away.
Lamont ducked and twisted
away. “Do ye think I’d travel so far simply to gloat? I’ve need of your help.”
That gave Gabriel pause. He
stopped his attack for a moment, but kept his sword pointed squarely at
Lamont’s throat.
“What is it? Is Ceana all
right?” When he’d met her, she’d just been widowed, and happily so, given her
marriage had not been a pleasant one. He’d loved her, wanted her, and then
she’d been given away. He wanted to grab Lamont by his neck and shake him. To
lift him off his feet and watch the breath dissipate from his body. “Ye’d
better be making her happy.”
Lamont smiled, a whimsical
look that didn’t suit the fierce warrior. Blast it all, the arse was in love
with her. Gabriel ground his teeth.
“Ceana is well and happy.
As am I.”
Gabriel tightened his hold
on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t want Lamont to be happy, but if the man
wasn’t, that would mean that Ceana wasn’t either, and he knew how heartbroken
she’d been when her brother had given her the news that he’d not honor
Gabriel’s request for her hand. Hell, she’d sobbed on his shoulder for an hour
and he’d been close to tears himself. But that was years ago and he’d not shed
another tear for her loss, even if his heart had broken and never healed since.
Sweat trickled over
Lamont’s brow and he swiped it. “’Tis another matter I come to ye with.”
“What?” Gabriel cracked his
neck, loosening himself up for the next round of attack.
“Ceana’s cousin, Lady
Brenna MacLeod.”
“The MacLeod’s wife?”
MacLeod land bordered the west of the MacKinnon holding and they’d been allies
until four years before when the old laird died and his son took over. Having a
violent and vengeful nature, the new laird had made it his plan to seize all of
the Isle of Skye for himself. Perhaps he’d had a taste for it since he was a
lad of sixteen and married Brenna MacNeacail after murdering and seizing her
clan’s castle and holding, which bordered MacKinnon land to the north.
Gabriel had never seen
Brenna himself, but he’d been told she was a frail little thing, barely more
than the size of a child.
“Aye. The MacNeacail’s
wife, Amalie, was sister to Jamie and Ceana’s mother, making them cousins.”
“What’s this got to do with
me?”
“We’ve heard about the
trouble MacLeod has been giving ye.”
“And?” Trouble it had been
at first. A few cattle raids, a couple skirmishes along the road. They’d turned
into more than just a nuisance when MacLeod had started ambushing their trading
wagons, interrupting their markets and then pillaging villages.
The MacKinnon holding to
the east controlled access to Loch Alsh and the mainland, as well as the Sound,
which led into the Minch and the surrounding seas. MacLeod land also bordered the
Minch, but they’d not conquered all the MacDonald’s holdings whose access to
the Sound of Sleet also fed to the mainland, though ships had to sail through
the treacherous Minch. Having access to the narrow sound and loch to the
mainland would have been a boon for the MacLeods and the only way to command it
was for them to take control of MacKinnon lands. Which they’d not yet succeeded
in doing. But not for lack of trying. Any day now, Gabriel expected a full on
attack by the MacLeods.
“We want ye to fight.”
Lamont dug the tip of his sword into the ground.
“Fight?”
“Aye. Take on those MacLeod
bastards.”
“To what purpose?” Gabriel
glanced at his men from the sides of his eyes and gave a little swipe of his
hand. They started to back away, though they didn’t disperse completely.
Lamont cocked his head and
studied MacKinnon. “I think we both know to what purpose.”
“I’ll not kill another
laird. That will only be inviting every MacLeod to my doorstep itching for a
fight.” The entire Isle of Lewis, thousands of warriors. Even the MacLeod holdings
on the Isle of Skye vastly outnumbered his own.
“Ye need not kill him,
Wolf. Have ye not heard?”
“Heard what?”
Lamont raised his brows,
seeming surprised that Gabriel was oblivious to whatever news he was about to
impart.
“Rumor has it, his wife’s
done the deed herself. But now she and her wee ones are being held prisoner by
the MacLeod’s younger brother. She managed to get a letter to Ceana begging for
help.”
Gabriel chewed on that bit
of information. The wee lass had killed her husband? Must have done it in his
sleep. A slip of a woman like that would be hard pressed to kill a mouse caught
in a trap.
“And?” Gabriel prompted,
still not entirely sure what the hell it was that Lamont wanted.
“The lass needs help.”
Gabriel waited for him to
say more, but he didn’t, leaving the space between them thick with unanswered
questions. Gabriel let out a small groan. “Are ye expecting me to rescue her?”
Lamont’s face lit up, as if
he’d been hoping Gabriel would come to that conclusion and he wouldn’t have to
actually make the suggestion himself. “And the wee ones. Their uncle has
threatened to kill them and I wouldn’t put it past him. He needs them dead so
he can be laird.”
Lamont, after unmanning
him, wanted to see him further emasculated by playing rescuer and nursemaid?
“Nay. Not a chance.”
Gabriel shook his head
prepared to call over his guards to have Lamont tossed out of the gates on his
ear.
“Wolf, I beg ye. Ceana begs
ye.”
He ground his teeth again,
the crunching noise it made music to his already pained ears. “Ye’re jesting.”
“Not at all. I swear it.”
Lamont crossed himself.
Dammit! The man was serious. And
Ceana wanted his help, too. Aye, he’d lost her, but after all these years, he
would still do anything for her.
Gabriel let out a loud,
irritated groan. “How many wee ones?”
Lamont spoke softly and
slowly as if he were trying not to awaken a bear. “Four. Three lads and a
little lass.”
MacKinnon rolled his eyes.
“Ye just expect me to ride up on my horse and gallop away with a lady and her
four bairns?”
Lamont shrugged. “Well, if
ye could take the castle that would be even better, considering the eldest boy
is set to inherit as laird.”
A murderess and her, no
doubt, unruly children. “How old is he?”
“Fourteen summers.”
Gabriel rolled his head
from side to side, cracking his neck. He needed to weigh his options. If the
laird was dead and his fourteen-year-old son was going to inherit, then he’d
likely be advised by a group of elder clansmen. They could end up being like
his father, content with continuing the arsehole’s plan for Skye, or they could
be men that were loyal to the lad’s grandfather, MacKinnon’s old ally. Then
again, Lamont mentioned that the boy was being held prisoner with his family
and that their uncle wanted to kill them all.
If their uncle was as power
hungry as he was being made out to be, which seemed fairly obvious, then MacKinnon
may have an even bigger problem.
“Do the men have no loyalty
to their new laird?” Gabriel asked.
“The lad?”
“Aye.”
“Seems the uncle’s named
himself his nephew’s advisor and will rule until he comes of age.”
Just as he feared. Gabriel
got straight to the point. “What’s in it for me?”
“Lady Brenna.”
Oh, this just got worse and
worse. “Ye cannot be serious.”
“Deadly.”
“An old hag? She’s borne
four children already. What good is she to me?”
Lamont raised his brow.
“She’s not as old as ye may suspect.”
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