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Next Stop on the Bound to the Highlander Blog Tour

This week I’m pleased to be the next stop in a blog tour celebrating the release of Kate Robbin‘s first novel, Bound to the Highlander, a historical romance set during politically turbulent times of 15th Century Scotland. Just prior to publication by Tirgearr on October 10th, Bound to the Highlander won the TARA award for historical romance.

 

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About the Book

Aileana Chattan suffers a devastating loss, then discovers she is to wed neighbouring chief and baron, James MacIntosh—a man she despises and whose loyalty deprived her of the father she loved. Despite him and his traitorous clan, Aileana will do her duty, but she doesn’t have to like it or him. But when the MacIntosh awakens something inside her so absolute and consuming, she is forced to question everything.

James MacIntosh is a nobleman torn between tradition and progress. He must make a sacrifice if he is to help Scotland move forward as a unified country. Forced to sign a marriage contract years earlier binding Lady Aileana to him, James must find a way to break it, or risk losing all—including his heart.

From the wild and rugged Highlands near Inverness to the dungeons of Edinburgh Castle, James and Aileana’s preconceptions of honour, duty and love are challenged at every adventurous turn.

My Interview with Kate Robbins

LR: The political situation of the day plays a role in the novel. What can you tell us about the political situation in Scotland at this time?

KR: It was a fascinating time. James Stewart who’d been imprisoned in England for 18 years, is back and attempting to unify Scotland by imposing new laws on authoritative reform. How do you think that went over with the nobles considering they’d have to relinquish some of their power. Not so much right? In order for the king to return, England demanded 40,000 merks (marks) and as surety for the ransom, twenty Scottish nobles were forced to go to England and stay there until the money was paid. Did the king collect the money? Yep. Did he give it to the English crown? Nope. He built Linlithgow Palace instead. My story takes place in 1430. Anyone surprised James Stewart I was assassinated in 1437?

LR: Did you always want to right historical romance?

KR: I’ve always read historical romance so it was an easy fit for me. I love learning about periods in history and who doesn’t love a good love story?

LR: Did you start with something more contemporary and get drawn back in time or was it something that came later?

KR: No, I jumped right into the period. I have many other stories around that timeframe and a little later just itching to get out. I think I’ll be writing historicals for a while.

LR: What is it that drew you to Scotland?

KR: Fascinating history, incredibly friendly people, best whiskey in the world, and KILTS! WOOT! Yeah baby. What’s not to love? I’ve now been there twice and I can’t wait to go back again. My favourite place on the planet. 

LR: For my excerpt, I had chosen a single line that made me laugh but it didn’t make it into the final cut. The line was “His mouth was the eleventh sin.” Maybe I’m just a romance novice, but I I’ve loved that line.

KR: LOL. I went for accuracy and don’t even know where my head was when I wrote that, HAHA.

LR: LOL. I can guess where your head was and I was there for a short time as well.  🙂

Excerpt
The early morning mist was refreshing as she walked along the well-beaten road leading north toward Inverness. The fog lifted just enough to expose the stunning landscape. Out here, with the rolling green hills and explosions of colour, she could spread her arms wide and feel free from the pain gripping her. The tightness in her chest eased. In the distance, the sharp mountain peaks protruded from the crawling mist towards the blue sky. The day would be lovely when the fog burned off.

Aileana reached the crossroads and turned right, following a smaller path leading east. Thick brush and oak trees framed the path, often giving way to vast farmlands that lay beyond. Littered here and there were bluebells, lady fingers, and cowslip. She knelt to collect some, pausing to inhale their sweet scent.

The flowers brought back memories of the many times her uncle had brought them to her. Widowed and with no children of his own, he took guardianship of Aileana after her father’s death and came to love and treat her as if she were his own. All these years, they had only each other and she was lost without him. Her hair prickled at her nape. She stepped onto the road and looked both ways, her arms full of flowers. The thunder of hooves reached her ears at about the same time her peripheral vision caught a flash of something white and very large coming around the bend just ahead. She leapt out of the way to avoid being trampled, landing on her backside. She strained her neck and viewed the largest horse she’d ever seen. The dense fog had prevented her from seeing the horse or its rider approaching at top speed. She was lucky to have avoided serious injury.

Aileana’s heart raced. She should have known better than to walk alone, considering all the recent raids. Was the rider friend or foe? She recognized a small path across the road. If she could get around the giant beast before the rider saw her, she could slip through the trees undetected.

Within a split second, however, the rider dismounted and held out his large hand. His deep chuckle made her cheeks burn. “I’m sorry, lass. I didn’t expect to see anyone out at this hour, nor this far from any dwelling.”

The tall man took in her appearance, his sweeping glance resting on the embroidered stitching of her low neckline. His gaze lingered there before travelling up her throat. She held her breath as his eyes trailed over her body.

“You can ride with me if you like.” His husky voice conjured images of silk sweeping across her flesh. She was entranced by the sight of him. Thick muscles flexed beneath a dark leather jerkin which ended just above his knee and was secured at his waist with a broad belt. In his current position, she could see his thigh muscle tense and her face grew hotter. His plaid covered one shoulder and ran underneath his sword arm secured by a large silver brooch offset with rubies and centered with a wildcat. MacIntosh.

They supported the king. It wasn’t well known, but Uncle had speculated to those he trusted. Anyone who supported a man who pawned his people like cattle for his personal gain was no friend of hers.

It was clear from his inappropriate suggestion, she was better off not knowing him. He was no gentleman, despite his expensive accessory and giant horse. No decent man would speak that way to a lady. Couldn’t he tell by the way she was dressed that she was no common wench? Then again, it would not matter to this base sort of man. Either way, without a chaperone, she was not about to remain in his company for one more second. His hand hung in mid-air, but she ignored it, hoisting herself instead off the cold ground.

She mustered the most authoritative voice she could. “No thank you.” Aileana lifted her chin and walked away.

“Wait lass. I’m sorry to have startled you. What are you called?”

Aileana turned on her heel intent to put this rogue in his place and ran into his chest. She gasped. The thick, rich scent of leather enveloped her, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. She stumbled, but he was quick enough to catch her by the arms before she fell. Her hands splayed flat against his chest. Bulging muscles underneath his jerkin begged her fingers to stroke their curve.

His bright green eyes bore into hers. While his long brown hair was tied at his nape, a few strands had broken free and fell loose across his face. She fought the irresistible urge to reach up and tuck them behind his ear.

“Who are you?”

His deep voice was warm honey on her flesh. He smelled of sweet ale and she was transfixed by his mouth which curved in all the right ways.

“Perhaps you’re a faerie come to steal me away.”

His raspy voice made her skin tingle.

“Good sir—”

“I bet you taste as delicious as you smell.”

Aileana pushed against his chest. He pushed back. The stranger pulled her forward, his mouth now no more than an inch from hers. His hard body pressed against hers, spreading heat to her very core.

His fingers brushed the side of her mouth and his lips parted. Her knees trembled. His intent was clear and their proximity was inappropriate.

Panic hit her hard.

About the Authorbtth1

Kate Robbins writes historical romance novels out of pure escapism and a love for all things Scottish, not to mention a life-long enjoyment of reading romance. Her journey into storytelling began with a short screenplay she wrote, directed, and produced which was screened at the 2003 Nickel Film Festival in St. John’s, Newfoundland. She has also written and directed several stage plays for youth.

Kate loves the research process and delving into secondary sources in order to give readers the most authentic historical romance possible. She has travelled to Scotland and has visited the sites described in her Highland Chiefs series.

Bound to the Highlander is the first of three books set during the early fifteenth century during the reign of James Stewart, first of his name.

Kate is the pen name of Debbie Robbins who lives in St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada with her hubby, the man-beast, and her two awesome boys, the man-cubs.

😀

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