Her
Highland Fling
Second Sons #2.5
Second Sons #2.5
By: Jennifer McQuiston
Releasing January 27th, 2015
Avon Impulse
Blurb
Let the Games Begin…
William
MacKenzie has always been protective of his Scottish village. When Moraig’s
economy falters, he has the perfect solution to lure wealthy Londoners to this
tiny hamlet: resurrect the ancient Highland Games! But for this to work,
William knows he needs a reporter to showcase the town in just the right light.
A
female journalist might be a tolerated oddity in Brighton, but newly minted
reporter Penelope Tolbertson is discovering that finding respect in London is a
far more difficult prospect. After receiving an invitation to cover Moraig’s
Highland Games, Penelope is determined to prove to her London editors just how
valuable she can be.
Penelope
instantly captures William’s heart, but she is none too impressed with the
gruff, broody Highlander. However as she begins to understand his plans,
Penelope discovers she may want more from him than just a story. She’s only got
a few days...but maybe a few days is all they need.
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2014/12/her-highland-fling-novella-by-jennifer.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22836685-her-highland-fling
Excerpt: All the world hated a
hypocrite, and William MacKenzie was no exception.
But today
that trouser-clad hypocrite was his brother, James, which made it a little hard
for William to hate him like he ought.
As James
sauntered to a stop beneath the awning of Moraig’s posting house, his laughing
gaze dropped to William’s bare knees and then climbed northward again. “If
you’re trying to make a memorable impression,” he sniggered, “all that’s
missing is a good breeze.”
“You are
late.” William crossed his arms and tried to look menacing. “And I thought we
agreed last night we would share this indignity.”
“No, you agreed.” James shoved his hands in the
pockets of his trousers and offered up a shite-eating grin. “I listened and
wisely withheld a formal opinion.”
William bit
back a growl of frustration. For Christ’s sake, he knew well enough he looked
like a fool, standing in the thick heat of early August, draped in the
MacKenzie plaid. And there was no doubt he would be teasing James unmercifully
if the reverse were true.
But today
they were both supposed to look like fools.
And James
had a far better set of legs.
As though
summoned by his brother’s fateful words, a ghost of a breeze stirred the wool
that clung to William’s sweat-moistened skin. He clapped a hand down over his
sporran, ensuring the most important parts remained hidden. “You live in
Moraig, just as I do,” he pointed out to his errant brother. “You owe it to the
town to help me make a proper impression for the reporter from the London Times.”
“Oh, aye,
and I will. I had thought to say something properly memorable, such as ‘Welcome
to Moraig.’ ” James raised a dark, mocking brow. “And we shouldn’t need to put
on airs. The town has its own charm.”
“Well, the
tourists haven’t exactly been flocking here,” William retorted, gesturing to
the town’s nearly empty streets. Hidden in the farthest reaches of Scotland—far
enough, even, that the Atlantic coast lapped at its heels—the little town of
Moraig might indeed be charming, but attempts to attract London tourists had
fallen somewhat short. If William had anything to say about it, that was going
to change, starting today.
The only
problem was he should have said it a half hour ago.
He took off
his Balmoral cap and pulled his hand through hair already damp with sweat.
While he was willing to tolerate looking like a fool in order to prove Moraig
was the perfect holiday destination for Londoners seeking an authentic Highland
experience, he still objected to having to look like one alone. “We’ve an
opportunity to get a proper story printed in the Times, highlighting all Moraig
has to offer.” He settled the cap back on his head. “If you have an issue with
the plaid, you could have at least bestirred yourself to put on a small kilt.”
James burst
out laughing. “And draw attention away from your bonny knees?”
As if in
agreement, a series of catcalls rang out from a group of men who had crowded
onto the sidewalk outside the Blue Gander, Moraig’s inn and public house.
One of them
held up his pint. “Lovely legs, MacKenzie!”
“Now show us
your arse!”
Author
Info
A veterinarian and infectious disease
researcher by training, Jennifer McQuiston has always preferred reading romance
to scientific textbooks. She resides in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband,
their two girls, and an odd assortment of pets, including the pony she promised
her children if mommy ever got a book deal. Jennifer can be reached via her
website at www.jenmcquiston.com or followed on
Twitter @jenmcqwrites
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