Rowan Keats pens historical adventures involving hot Highland heroes and the women they claim. Both TAMING A WILD SCOT and WHEN A LAIRD TAKES A LADY have earned 4 1/2 star reviews from RT Book Reviews, which labelled her "a rising star of medieval romance."
When not writing, Rowan can frequently be found in a dark movie theater indulging in a large bag of popcorn, or watching the sunrise with a mug of steaming coffee wrapped in her hands. She lives in Central Canada with a goofy black lab, a very talkative cat, and a daughter whose own creative talents awe and inspire her every day.
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I love Scottish heroes. They maybe a little rough around the edges, but they fight for what they believe in...and that usually involves the heroine. Any Scottish warrior is worthy of a sigh, but a Scottish laird—especially a medieval one—can truly make your heart pound. What makes a Scottish laird so interesting?
He is a delightful contradiction...
His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
The rub of his callused palm on her skin stole her breath away. She suddenly craved a repeat of the intimate kiss they’d shared the night before. The press, the passion, the need. Oh aye, the need. She knew the facts pointed to him having a hand in her brother’s murder, but at this moment those facts felt vague and unfounded. The man who cradled injured dogs was real.
Excitement was a sweet taste in her mouth, and she stared into his eyes with an anticipation that was palpable. He returned her stare for a long moment, his expression still and unreadable.
Isabail was lost in the fantasy of his lips on hers, a warmth settling into her cheeks that had nothing to do with the glowing coals in brazier at their feet.
Then, with the suddenness of a falcon strike, he hauled her up against his body. The rough press of his body against hers did nothing to calm the madcap beat of her heart. Every place her body was soft, his was hard. She barely resisted the urge to flatten her palms against the chiseled planes of his chest, to feel the evidence of his strength. But she held back. She did not want him to think, even for a moment, that she was resistant.
He tilted her head and very slowly, very deliberately, lowered his lips toward hers. Just before they touched, he said, “I'm feeling rather disconcerted myself.”
And then he kissed her.
So deeply and stirringly that Isabail felt the ripples of pleasure reach right to her toes. It was a kiss of possession, a claim of rights that were primal in nature. It should have frightened her, or at the very least annoyed her, but all she felt was a hot pulse of tingling delight.
She leaned into the kiss.
It was all the encouragement he needed. Both hands cupped her head, his fingers threading deep into her hair, and he crushed his lips against hers. The sweep of his tongue along the seam of her lips demanded her surrender. Isabail wanted to resist—knew deep down that she should—but her desire for him was shockingly potent.
He made her feel alive… and beautiful. The passion he stirred in her body was like an unrestrained melody, full of thrilling notes and soaring chords that vibrated through her entire being. Why MacCurran possessed the power to stir her so deeply she couldn’t fathom. He was as different from Andrew as two men could be. And he was her enemy. A cad, a cur, and a scurrilous knave...who fed soup to dogs.
Isabail sighed and opened her mouth.
Her hands found their way to his arms, gripping his powerful biceps with clenched fingers. She loved the contradiction—a man capable of ferocious strength but willing, on rare occasions, to cede the moment to gentleness. Like this moment.
He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit. Not hard enough to break the skin, but firmly enough to send a host of tiny sparks coursing through her body. Isabail's knees went weak and she sagged against his chest.
MacCurran broke off the kiss. He held her close for a long moment, his forehead touching hers, his eyes closed. Twin flags of color graced his cheeks, and his breaths were ragged. The pulse in his neck beat fast and strong. Isabail enjoyed seeing the visible evidence of his desire.
Slowly, he regained control and opened his eyes. “Have your maid fetch your belongings,” he said. “From now on, you'll sleep here.”
Excerpt from WHEN A LAIRD TAKES A LADY ©2014 by Rowan Keats. All rights reserved.
Series: Claimed by the Highlander #2
Genre: Historical Romance
Length: 336 pages
Publisher: Signet (May 6, 2014)
In the Highlands of Scotland, honor and loyalty are worth more than life itself. But when a haunted woman meets a wronged warrior, love will prove more powerful than anything they have ever known.
Isabail Grant has had to be strong all her life. Over the years, she has lost everyone close to her, and now she’s seeking justice for her brother’s murder. But en route to Edinburgh to petition the king, she is kidnapped by a fierce warrior—and is shocked to find herself irresistibly drawn to her captor.
Aiden MacCurran is an outlaw. The laird of a small clan, he’s been falsely accused of killing the king’s courier and stealing the Crown’s property—and the key to clearing his name and redeeming his clan lies in Isabail’s memories. But Aiden and Isabail must first weather deceit and treachery before they can find the truth and claim the love that’s growing between them....
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