Tour wide giveaway for three paperback copies of HIGHLAND GUARD by Hannah Howell
Highland Guard
Murray Family # 20
Murray Family # 20
By: Hannah Howell
Releasing March 3rd, 2015
Zebra
New York Times
bestselling author Hannah Howell brings back the daring Murray family in a
brand-new tale of dangerous love rekindled. . .
Lady Annys MacQueen
has no other choice. The deception that enabled her to keep her lands safe is
on the verge of being revealed by a cruel kinsman. To shield her young son from
the sword and her people from devastation, she must turn to the one man she
could never forget. . .
He lives for duty
and honor. So the only way Sir Harcourt Murray could repay the laird who saved
his life was to agree to father a child with Sir MacQueen's wife. . .Lady
Annys. Now the passion he still feels for the lovely strong-willed widow is as
all-consuming and perilous as securing her lands. But to convince her that his
love is forever real means confronting her most wrenching fears--and putting
everything they treasure most at stake. .
Harcourt looked at Annys
and his heart actually skipped a beat. He would have laughed if he was not so
filled with conflicting emotions. Such happenings were the stuff of bad poetry,
the sort of thing he had always made jest of. Yet, there he stood, rooted to
the spot, frantically thinking of what to say and how to hide the tangled mass
of emotion that was nearly choking him. He nodded a greeting to her and watched
her beautiful moss-green eyes narrow in a look that did not bode well for an
amiable talk later. Talking was not what he was thinking about, however. He was
recalling how soft that long blood-red hair of hers was, how warm her pale skin
felt beneath his hands, and how sweet those full lips tasted. That was a memory
he needed to smother and fast.
“Are matters as bad as
young Ian indicated?” he asked Nicolas, and inwardly winced when, out of the
corner of his eye, he saw Annys cross her arms under her breasts.
“Aye,” Nicolas replied.
“We can have that talk with her ladyship in attendance as soon as we get all of
you sorted.”
Harcourt nodded and turned
his attention to seeing to the matter. Once the horses were taken care of,
their supplies unloaded and carted away, he knew the time had come to actually
face Annys. He took a deep breath and started toward her where she still stood
on the steps only to come to a halt when a small child rushed by him and ran up
to pull at her skirts.
“Maman!
Ye got us more soldiers.”
“I did, Benet. I thought
it might help stop all the trouble we have been having.”
The moment the child
turned to look at him, Harcourt clenched his fists at his side. The boy’s eyes
were a match for his own. Bright amber eyes watched him closely and Harcourt
fought against the urge to shout out his claim to this child. He had given up
all rights. It had been the debt owed for his life. He could feel the eyes of
his companions fixed upon him though and knew he would be facing a lot of
questions.
It took every ounce of
strength he had to start walking again. He stepped up until he was standing
just below Annys and the boy. It was easy to read the fear in her eyes. Young
Benet’s eye color was not an exact match with his and could be attributed to
the tiny gold specks in her eyes or just a different shade of the brown David’s
eyes had been. The boy’s hair was black but so had David’s been. As long as he
did not say or do something to give the secret away, all would be fine. Yet,
Harcourt knew it was going to be a long hard battle not to reach out and claim
his son.
“M’lady,” he said and took
her hand in his to brush a kiss over her knuckles.
That tiny soft hand
trembled slightly in his grasp and his body reacted to the sign that she was
not as indifferent to his presence as she appeared to be. Harcourt knew it
would be unwise to try to begin an affair with her but he was not sure he was strong
enough to resist if she gave him even the smallest hint that she would welcome
his attention.
“Sir Harcourt,” she said
and nodded as she almost yanked her hand out of his grasp. “Where is Ian?”
“He
was injured in his travels. Nay badly, but I thought it best if he remained at
Gormfeurach for a while. He is being given the best of care.”
“Thank you for that. I was
most concerned when he did not return.” She turned slightly and took Benet by
the hand. “Shall we go to the hall where you can quench your thirst and have
some food while we talk?”
Annys fought to keep from
racing into the keep, putting as much distance between her and Sir Harcourt as
she could. The touch of his lips on her hand had nearly undone her hard-won
composure. It had been five years since she had felt his touch yet the moment
his flesh met hers, even in the innocence of a proper greeting, her mind had
gone back to those nights by the burn.
Guilt left a sour taste in
her mouth. David was barely cold in his grave and she was allowing herself to
weaken at the touch of another man’s hand. What had happened between her and
Harcourt had been wrong, even if it had been condoned by David. She nearly
laughed. Condoned? It had been meticulously arranged. David had been the
sweetest, kindest man she had ever known but he had also been a man who would
not hesitate to do whatever was needed to get what he wanted. He had wanted a
son.
She glanced down at Benet
who kept looking back at the men following them into the keep. Until she had
seen Harcourt again, she had not allowed herself to even think on how much
Benet looked like the man. All she could do was pray no one else noticed,
especially since there had been the faintest similarities in coloring between
David and Harcourt. She would also have to be very watchful for even the
smallest possibility that she or Harcourt were giving the secret away in how
they treated the boy.
“M’lady,” Joan whispered
in her ear as they entered the hall and pulled away from the men who went to
wash their hands, “it is not as clear to see as ye think it is.”
“I pray ye are right,
Joan.”
“I am. I only see it
because of what I ken and I have ne’er heard a whisper that would tell me
anyone else here kens the truth or that those who may would e’er say a word.
So, ye just be careful in what ye say and do and all will be weel.”
Annys wished she had the
confidence in that that Joan had. The looks on the faces of the men who had
come with Harcourt, looks the men were doing a pitiful job of hiding, told her
that they noticed something already. She prayed Harcourt would have a stern
word with them all.
“Allow me to introduce my
companions, m’lady,” Harcourt said once they were all seated. “This is Sir
Callum MacMillan, Sir Tamhas Cameron, Sir Nathan MacFingal, Sir Ned MacFingal,
and Sir Gybbon Murray.”
Annys nodded a greeting to
each man as he was introduced. Two redheads, a brunet, and three raven-haired
men. All handsome. All warriors. All tall and fit. It was not going to be easy
to stop the maidens of the keep from seeking them out. They were, however, a
treasure of skill and strength she could not turn away, no matter how much she
worried over the chance that her secret might come out.
“I thank you all for
coming,” she said. “Please, eat, drink, and we can talk once ye take the edge
off your thirst and hunger.”
The only conversation that
ensued as the men ate concerned the journey they had taken. Gormfeurach was not
as far away as Annys had thought, although far enough when one half of the
partners in a huge secret were concerned. She ate very little, her stomach tied
in knots, as she struggled to push aside all worry about what might or might
not be exposed by Sir Harcourt’s presence. The people of Glencullaich needed
these men. They had to take precedence over all of her fears.
As she sipped her wine she
glanced between Harcourt on her left and Nicolas on her right. Both were
extraordinarily handsome men yet she experienced not one single twinge of
womanly interest when she studied Nicolas. Hair the color of dark wood, gray
eyes, and a strong body were all things that could please a woman but, although
she did like the look of him, nothing else stirred inside her. Harcourt stirred
everything inside of her and not all of it was good. The warmth was side by
side with the chilling fear of secrets being uncovered. The need was side by
side with the guilt for having given in to it even with the urging of her
husband. The pleasure of seeing him again sat side by side with a lingering
anger over the way he had left her. Somehow she had to clear her heart and mind
of all the confusion.
Enjoyable historical fiction with an interesting plot, but it was a bit slow. I would have liked to have known more about their relationship between Harcourt and Annys five years prior before continuing in the present. The brief glimpses were not enough for me to understand the bond formed between them. Harcourt is a true hero, saving the day and getting the girl at the end. Benet was adorable and I wish there were more scenes between him and Harcourt. Benet's pets were adorable and added a bit of humor to the story. This is the first book I've read by Ms. Howell, and I look forward to reading the previous books in the series - I have a feeling there are plenty of swoon-worthy heroes to pick from.
ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Hannah
D. Howell is a highly regarded and prolific romance writer. Since Amber Flame,
her first historical romance, was released in February 1988, she has published
25 novels and short stories, with more on the way. Her writing has been
repeatedly recognized for its excellence and has "made Waldenbooks Romance
Bestseller list a time or two" as well as was nominated twice by Romantic
Times for Best Medieval Romance (Promised Passion and Elfking's Lady). She has
also won Romantic Times' Best British Isles Historical Romance for Beauty and
the Beast; and, in 1991-92 she received Romantic Times' Career Achievement
Award for Historical Storyteller of the Year.
Hannah
was born and raised in Massachusetts (the maternal side of her family has been
there since the 1630's). She has been married to her husband Stephen for 28
years, who she met in England while visiting relatives, and decided to import
him. They have two sons Samuel, 27, and Keir, 24. She is addicted to
crocheting, reads and plays piano, attempts to garden, and collects things like
dolls, faerie and cat figurines, and music boxes. She also seems to collect
cats, as she now has four of them, Clousseau, Banshee, Spooky, and Oliver
Cromwell.
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