Highland Fire by Tanya Anne Crosby

Scottish Historical Romance

Highland fire

Scotland, 1125, the Legend Begins … 
For two centuries, Aidan dun Scoti’s kinsmen have guarded Scotland’s greatest secret, awaiting a worthy successor to arise and unite the Highland clans. His people are the last of the “Painted Ones,” the guardians of the true Stone of Destiny. 

A Struggle for Power 
The Highland tribes are fractured. Scotland’s King David seeks an alliance with the fierce mountain Scot. But only one woman will tempt Aidan dun Scoti—the accursed beauty whose father once betrayed his clan … 

Tempted by revenge 
Cursed by Aidan’s people for the sins of her father, Lìleas MacLaren is the one woman he believes he is immune to. Offered in marriage by David of Scotland as a guise for peace, she is also the one woman who may bring the fierce chieftain to his knees. 

Rich with history and lore, HIGHLAND FIRE brings back favorite characters from The Highland Brides and introduces you to new ones.

Genre: FICTION / Romance / Historical

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Historical

Language: English


Word Count: 87,500

Sales info:

This book has been in the Top 50 Scottish Historical romances since it's publication

Sample text:

“She’s a witch, I tell you!”

“Simply because minstrels sing it does not make it true.”

The king blew an impatient sigh. “We all know the lass is cursed, but I canna believe her misery has aught to do with magic. Even so, being cursed isna the same as cursing others. So what, she is skilled in the simples?”

“Nay, Your Grace, but I have witnessed miraculous recoveries by her hand. Last fall, she passed a maid’s bairn through a wreath made from woodbine cut during a waxing moon. The boy’s fever simply vanished!”

The King’s answering expression was full of mockery. “A wreath?” A guffaw erupted from the depths of his belly. “Are ye certain ‘twasna a halo? Perchance the girl’s a saint instead?”

Quiet laughter sliced through the tension in the hall.

“Saint Lìleas,” someone quipped, leaping at the opportunity to earn the king’s favor.

From the far end of the table came a crude jest. “Not with tatties like those. If she came tae my sickbed, all I’d be wailin’ for are those sweet nipples betwixt my lips.”

The chamber erupted with nervous cackles.

Despite the levity of the moment, the discussion at hand was being held in the most private of quarters, with doors closed and guards posted outside. King David of Scotia had gathered his most trusted advisors, along with a discreet group of influential chieftains. Each of them mulled over the dilemma he had presented—how to quell the most rebellious of Highland tribes—and how to do so without bringing the clans to bloodshed.

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