Reviews:
"This is a terrific story. Ms. McGill has created two dynamic characters whose stubborn passions cause them many problems. Throw in the fact that they come from two different time periods and you have a delightful read full of the violence of the time, intrigue, passion, and heartache. Beth is a quiet but feisty woman of the twenty-first century. Travis is the Laird of all he surveys and rules his people with a fair but firm hand, putting the protection of his people above all else, including himself. I really enjoyed this story. Beth and Travis are a team; forging a bond that even time cannot break. In a time of extreme violence and danger, they create their own oasis of peace in each other’s arms. My Highland Love gave me many peaceful moments of escape from my own days of work and life. If you need an escape, travel to Scotland in the year 1051 with Beth and put reality aside for a while."
Rating: 4 Hearts Reviewer: Patricia Oshier Bruening for The Romance Studio
"When Beth is taken back in time to medieval Scotland, Travis McKenna has no time to deal with another visitor from the future. He must avenge his sister’s murder. But is Beth the woman of his destiny?
This is a wonderful book. Tricia McGill is a wonderful writer. She kept me spellbound. Ms. McGill wrote MY HIGHLAND LOVE as a sequel to an earlier novel, White Clover, which I haven’t read, but she does a wonderful job filling in what the reader needs to know. MY HIGHLAND LOVE stands alone wonderfully. The heroine, Beth, is such a sweet character who is fully embraceable and the hero, also wonderfully written, is a man of honor all the way. If you enjoy suspense, action and a great romance this is a must read."
Lisa at Romance Junkies Rating 4.5
"Beth Anderson visits her friend Liz and her husband, Andrew, in their hodgepodge Scottish castle, enthralled by their exciting tale of time travel into 1050 Scotland, where the year before they had met Andrew’s enigmatic ancestor, Travis MacAllister. If you’ve ever fallen in love with a man in a portrait painting, that’s what happened to Beth. Then she plots to join her Highlander by using the brooch and mantle that had transported Liz the year before. And find him, she does.
What she hadn’t expected was the intense feuding and fighting between the clans, and the harsh conditions found in 1051 Scotland. Still, Beth must make up her mind whether or not to return to the present... or brave it out and stay in the past with her Highland lover, by destroying the time travel mechanism. This is a fast paced action tale of the rough conditions of by gone days, and the man Beth couldn’t leave behind.
Multi-published author Tricia McGill does it again! You can’t help but fall in love with her Highlander chief, Travis MacAllister, the masterful clan leader in 1051 Scotland from her previous book… WHITE CLOVER. Even without running water and central heating this time-travel novel will make you wish you could be transported back into Travis’ castle… for a good, old fashioned candle lit romance."
JoEllen Conger
Conger Books Reviews
Conger Books Reviews"This book is an appealing and sensual time travel romance. I really enjoyed the way the author described living in Scotland during the 11th century. Her depiction of the harshness of life in medieval Scotland was very affecting...
Overall this novel is an enjoyable read."
Chrissie Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance Rating 3 Cups
Excerpt
Beth lay motionless. If she’d died, then when she opened her eyes she would be at the pearly gates. Every muscle in her body ached. It hadn’t hurt this much since she’d fallen off a horse as a child and bruised every part that had touched earth.
A buzzing in her ears made her dizzy but a bird singing sweetly nearby comforted her. At least she wasn’t dead. Unless they had birds in heaven to serenade you. Good grief, she was raving nonsense.
Warily she opened her eyes. The branches of a tree curved above her, not clouds. With a hand to her temple Beth slowly turned her head, first one way then the other. She lay out in the open, and the tree above her was one of half a dozen in a small glade. Bracken grew waist-high all around her. The air was crisp, the grass beneath her cold and damp. She shuddered.
Had she passed out? Perhaps she’d had a funny turn and wandered outside in a trance. What had she been doing when she began to feel dizzy? Ah yes--the attic and the cloak! Peering down warily, she ran a hand over her front. She still wore the strange garment.
No. This couldn’t be happening. She was going mad. This wasn’t a glade and these weren’t real trees. She must have bumped her head and was hallucinating. That was the only explanation.
Her mind veered away from the obvious answer.
She’d been studying the engraving on the badge before the lightning flash. Touching it, she twisted it until she could read the inscription and clearly see the markings. Was it like Aladdin’s lamp, one rub and a genie appeared? Or in this case you were propelled into another dimension.
No, that was silly. The likeliest explanation was that she’d had some sort of blackout and had wandered out of the castle and into the surrounding countryside. She wanted to believe that one. The first person who passed would verify the date and time and that this was the month of May.
She sat up, massaging her thighs. At least her legs felt normal now, although her muscles still ached as if she’d run a mile. The dizziness had subsided and the ringing in her ears had gone. Rubbing her face, she glanced around. Everything seemed so normal and the few cattle grazing about a hundred meters away added to that normalcy.
Beth tried to remember the lie of the land from the drive from the airport but couldn’t recall seeing any cattle near the MacAllisters’ castle. But that didn’t prove anything. She could have wandered aimlessly on the far side of the estate while in this stupor--or whatever it was ailing her. It certainly looked wild and rugged--but perhaps the countryside was like this over most of Scotland. In Australia one only had to travel a short distance from some towns to find oneself in the outback.
She must have passed out. That was the only answer to explain the feeling of flying helplessly through that vortex. Between the hurtling sensation and the blackness all she could recall was the cold. And it had been freezing when that strange wind blew up.
“Come on, be practical.” She got up and slapped at her sides. She’d always been practical. Boring and unimaginative, that was Bethelia Anderson. She steered away from the answer that was emerging, crying out to be heard.
“No. I’m still near Liz and Andrew’s estate. As soon as someone comes by I’ll prove it.”
With a definite nod of the head Beth looked about, trying to get her bearings from the position of the sun. What time could it be? It had been just after ten when she left her room after donning the thick sweater. So, depending on how long she’d been in this strange state, it could be anywhere between ten thirty and eleven. The sun wasn’t quite at its height so that proved she was more or less right. It had been streaming in her window this morning, which meant the castle had to be...
Beth turned about. This was so stupid. How on earth could she work out which direction to take? A city girl didn’t have to worry about such things. There were street signs in the city and always someone to ask for directions. Here she was surrounded by trees, the few cattle, and bracken. As she pondered which way to walk, the thundering of hooves disturbed the tranquillity. Thank the lord. Beth breathed a sigh of relief--now she’d find out where she was.
Beth faced the rider, a hand shielding her eyes.
A giant of a man rode one of the biggest horses she’d ever seen. Black, flowing hair streamed out behind him, and he rode as if all the devils from hell were on his heels.
As he neared Beth saw that he had a beard as black as his hair. He wore some sort of strange garment, like a philabeg, the old Gaelic version of a kilt. A claymore hung at his side, and leather strapping bound his calves.
It was Andrew.
Relief flooded her. Why hadn’t Liz told her he was in some highland pageant? She laughed out loud as he saw her, and lifted her hand to wave.
He skidded the horse to a standstill. It was then, as the man controlled the wild, panting beast, Beth recalled something Liz had told her last night. Andrew wasn’t a good rider. Her throat dried up, and she couldn’t swallow. The rider stared at her as if she was a ghost that had just risen from the earth. His mouth worked but no words came out.
Some sixth sense told her exactly who this stranger was.
“Travis.” A hand covering her mouth, Beth whispered the name hoarsely.
Dizziness swamped her, and vaguely she heard him use a Gaelic curse before she toppled into oblivion.
~ * ~
“What is it about ye women from the future that makes ye faint at the sight o’ me?” a deep voice questioned in Gaelic as she opened her eyes.
She was on the ground again, this time with one of his arms about her shoulders.
“How do you know I’m from the future?” she whispered, staring into familiar eyes. Similar eyes had stared out at her from the portrait. There was no hint of mischief in these eyes though. They looked forbidding. She should have stayed unconscious.
“Ye wear the same garment Beth wore when she departed.” He touched the collar of the cloak, his brow furrowed.
“Beth? You mean Liz?” Groggily she pushed him away and sat up on her own. He went back onto his haunches and stared hard at her.
“Elizabeth is the one we speak of. Aye, that’s the one. Did she send ye back here?”
“Send me...” Beth let out a laugh. “No, believe it or not, I did it all on my own. I can’t believe this.” She put a hand to her temple and pressed.
“Oh, I believe it all right. Ye women seem to have the knack of flitting through time as a normal woman would walk the forest.”
“I...” Beth moved away from him. His masculine scent filled her nostrils, despite the aromas of bracken and earth. He smelled of the outdoors, sweat, and wildness. A tantalizing combination.
Pushing the tangle of hair back, he stood and strode away a few paces. Hands on hips, he took a few deep breaths, then turned back. There was nothing of the mischievous rogue Liz had told her about. This man was frightening, his eyes as cold as the snow on Mount Everest.
“I went up to have a look at the cloak and badge after Liz told me about how she and Andrew had been swept back to your time last year. I was just curious. Don’t ask me what happened but--” She shrugged and spread her arms. “Here I am. But don’t worry, I’ll just rub this badge as I did before and get tossed back.”
As she bent to do just that he moved with the speed of a panther and stilled her hand. “No! Seeing as ye’re here, ye might as well stay awhile. I have a yen to learn how Beth is faring.”
“Why do you keep calling her that? Her name’s Liz. I’m Beth.” She eyed him warily. His hold on her arm was like a manacle. If she was truthful she had to admit he terrified her. He was so big. Beth felt small for the first time since she’d been about ten and had started to spring up.
“Ye’re Beth? Ye don’t say? Well, here’s a strange turn of events.” Finally he released her, but his look was penetrating as he stared hard at her. “Are all the women in yer time called such, then?”
“Don’t be silly,” she chided, then bit her lip when he scowled harder at her. “My name is really Bethelia, and Liz’s is Elizabeth.”
He nodded. “Well, Bethelia, will ye stay awhile?”
Nervously Beth looked about. “Please don’t call me that. I prefer to be called Beth.” What was she to do? If she tried to rub the badge again he might use real force this time. Surreptitiously she took the piece of metal in her fingers. They trembled, as did her limbs. And her teeth chattered, so she clamped them together until her jaw ached.
“Are ye scared of me?” he demanded.
“Of course not,” she lied. She was terrified.
“Ye lie.” After staring hard at her, he said, “The other Beth was never scared of me.”
“Perhaps she was and you just didn’t see it.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I havetae get back to my home. Are ye coming or going?”
“Well, seeing as you don’t seem to care one way or the other, I think I’ll go, thank you.”
He went to catch the reins in his hand, nodding. “As ye like.” Mounting, he watched her as she rubbed at the badge with shaking fingers. Ridiculously hurt by his apparent disinterest she defiantly tossed her head and glared back at him.
“Well now, nothing seems to be happening,” he said.
Beth rubbed harder, frantic now. This whole experience was terrifying. At first she’d thought perhaps it was a weird continuation of her dreams--a manifestation of the thoughts that had tumbled about in her head after Liz finished her strange tale. But this Scot was far too solid and large--and real--to be a fantasy she’d conjured up.
“I don’t wish to keep you. You don’t have to hang around. This may take a while.” Her voice quivered. Turning her back on him she chewed on her lip as she tried to remember exactly what she’d done to set the transition in motion. Tears formed in her eyes.
“Is this going to take all day?”
“How the hell should I know? I simply touched the blasted thing before and was propelled here, so why isn’t it doing anything now?” she cried, realizing she was becoming hysterical. And had cursed in English while conversing easily with him in Gaelic.
“Perhaps because ye were meant to stay. I suggest ye come along with me now, then ye can keep trying at yer leisure.” He sounded bored.
Beth flapped a hand at him. “I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.” She had the feeling that she shouldn’t leave this spot. Here was where she’d arrived, so here was where she would leave.
Suddenly he moved up behind her, leaned over and hauled her onto the giant animal. Beth cried out as she landed side-on in front of him.
“Enough of this nonsense. Ye’ll come back to my home now.”
With that he kicked the horse, clicked in his throat, and sent the animal straight into a canter. Forced to hold on to the arms encircling her, Beth clung for dear life.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yelled as the wind whistled past her ears and made her eyes water.
“I dinnae think, I know. Ye couldnae make up yer mind, woman, so I made it up for ye. I dinnae think for one moment ye had any hope of making yer charms work this day. Best leave it ’til another time to try and make yer way to yer home.”
They were moving at a cracking pace, and Beth thanked her stars that she’d spent many hours in her early years horse riding.
Arms like steel bands clasped her to him. Beth took the chance to look about. The countryside was rugged, wild and untamed. Her stomach still felt tied in knots. This wasn’t really happening to her--surely any moment she would come out of this trance or whatever it was that Liz’s story, the painting, and tales of Travis had sparked off.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up back in the castle. But the movement of the horse beneath her continued, the arms of steel still held her prisoner.
Their pace didn’t slow for perhaps ten minutes. Then a large, menacing building appeared up ahead. They passed a cluster of small hovels, smoke rising from the chimneys the only proof of occupancy. A herd of cattle grazed nearby, a few of them lifting their heads as the horse slowed to a trot.
Then the castle loomed above them, dark, hostile, and forbidding. It was fortified with unassailable towers and fighting platforms and surrounded by a high picket fence that would undoubtedly keep invaders out. A sturdy wooden gate lifted as they slowed to a walk; while they clattered across a wooden bridge spanning a ditch, the gate closed behind them. It was obviously controlled from within the castle, and was probably the only way in and out. The bottom of the ditch held a shallow stream of slime-covered water.
Another heavy gate lifted then lowered as soon as they had passed through. Then they were in the bailey. Despite her roiling stomach Beth noticed a cluster of buildings pressed along the outer wall. The castle appeared to be fashioned in the style of the stockades the ancient Scots built, with the main part of the castle high on a mound. They used to dig out the encircling ditch and toss all the dirt in the middle to form the motte where the castle was built. This was all too much to take in--the whole scene was like a picture from one of her history books.
Through an open door she saw a man working over a bench--perhaps making weapons. There wasn’t time to study him further, for a boy came from one of the buildings and took the reins Travis tossed him. The boy gave Beth a quizzical look, but said nothing as Travis dismounted then held up his arms. Hesitantly she allowed him to aid her down. Her legs buckled and threatened to give way beneath her.
“Welcome to my home. Come.” He strode off, leaving her to trail behind.
My Highland Love ISBN 978-1-59705-244-3
Copyright Tricia McGill 2007* All Rights Reserved
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