Emmy MacKenzie feels the time is long overdue for a vacation. A little “me” time. A little alone time. But when traveling the British Isles, a twist of fate at the gates of the ancient castle of Duart hurls Emmy more a hundred years into the past and into the arms of a magnificent highlander who thinks she is his long-lost wife, Heather MacLean! The ten years since his new bride abandoned him on his wedding day had brought Connor MacLean, earl Strathclyde, nothing but misery and bitterness but that is nothing compared to the anger he feels when she shows up at his front gates on the 10th anniversary of that day. Determined to punish her for the humiliations she dealt him, he is shocked when his wife claims mistaken identity and insists that she is not his wife at all! Endeavoring to cling to his anger, Connor finds he cannot deny the new attraction he feels for his mysterious wife and soon he is wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and make her his. With no choice but to play the part of the long lost Heather MacLean, Emmy cannot help but wonder how any woman could ever leave Connor MacLean, a man unlike any she had ever known. A man who thrills and challenges her. A man to love forever. Questions of destiny plague Emmy making her question her very life as she wavers between the desire to return to her own time and the hope for a life with her earl. She begins to question what she really wants out of life. And who can give it to her. But Emmy’s isn’t the only secret lurking in Duart Castle. Painful secrets will be revealed. Not only hers but that of another. When the truth of Heather MacLean’s disappearance comes to light more than Connor’s life might be destroyed. Choices will have to be made. Forgiveness begged. Second chances taken not just for the people of Duart, but for Emmy herself. But will she risk it all to have her laird for all time?

    Her prospects are promising by the standards of London society, yet, not one of them causes her heart to flutter, or her head to fill with scintillating, forbidden fantasies. Those feelings are reserved for Camden Rycroft, Duke of Avonleah—a man who isn’t even aware of her existence.While attending a scandalous Vauxhall Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living without her?

    They were nothing but trouble. Leaving the rash life of his youth behind, he returned to Skye, seeking peace. He never meant to split the clan or start a war with the MacDonald of Duntulm. He certainly never foresaw an arranged marriage to the most scandalous woman in Scotland. Even though she was twice his age, the size of a horse and mother to more than one illegitimate child, he agreed to secure his sister’s freedom. However, even that plan goes drastically awry. On his wedding day, he finds himself faced instead with an enticing, green-eyed lass named Bree. A walking disaster, his bride immediately turns his world into chaos and threatens to melt his resolve never to love again.Betrayed by her own mother, Bree flees to Skye, thinking only to reunite with her long, lost father. Instead, she finds herself wed to Ruan MacLeod as a replacement bride. When she is forced to remain in the castle, she is soon caught between brothers and the mentally ill wife of the laird.Shy, yet strong, Bree embarks on a journey of independence and learns along the way that all men are not necessarily evil. In fact, one particularly brooding, yet gentle-hearted warrior is worthy of love, and she soon loses her heart forever.Excerpt from Chapter Six:...All at once, he noticed he was still holding her, apparently at the same moment understanding dawned in her face.Bree launched into another attack, jabbing his midriff and raking his skin with her nails.“Be still, ye wee hellion!” Ruan bellowed, pinning her wrists behind her back.For a moment, he thought she was going to retch; her pasty skin seemed almost yellow, purple and black streaks adorned her nose and cheekbones. Marriage to him had not served her well; in two days, she had transformed from a lass with a pair of bright green eyes to a drowned, underfed chicken.As her foot grazed his shin, he winced, quickly amending the thought; a mean-spirited, drowned, underfed chicken.Another well placed kicked wrenched a new succession of curses from his lip, but as her tears began to flow, real ones, his exasperation fled. Of all things, tears affected him the most. One slid down her cheek. Succumbing to a wave of pity, he wiped it gently with his thumb. Bree gulped, frowning in a way he could not fathom. For several long minutes, they stared wordlessly at each other.Finally, her cracked lips opened and she wailed, “I’m not wedding anyone!”Gazing down into the bright eyes brimming with tears, Ruan sighed. “Aye, ‘tis a wee bit late, lass.”It was supposed to be comforting, or so he thought, but his response seemed only to renew her resistance. Balling her fists, she struck his chest but more in blows of frustration than anything else. In spite of his best efforts, he grinned. Battling to the last breath was something he could understand, even for a hopeless cause such as this one. Lips twitching, he easily recaptured her wrists in a single hand. They were unusually small hands, perfectly shaped.The fingers jerked free from his grasp. Startled, he met her eyes once more.“You’ll die if you touch me!” Her slurred threat ended with a hiccup, rendering it anything but intimidating.He could smell the whiskey on her breath.His grin widened.Her hand fumbled near his belt before closing over the hilt of his sword. Assuming a fierce expression, she attempted to frighten him. “I’ll sever your manhood whilst you sleep!”To emphasize the statement she tugged at the blade, several times.On the third attempt, the sword cleared the scabbard almost an inch.“Aye.” Ruan laughed outright, his lips curving into a suggestive smile, “But it would take even a larger blade; ye haven’t a prayer if ye can’t lift this one.” His hand closed over hers. Not as a deterrent, but simply to watch her eyes flash defiantly once more....

    So when a naked bleeding Highlander materializes out of the air into her kitchen, she does what any rational free-thinking herbalist under the same circumstances would do--she heals him. She didn’t expect to be drawn back to the 13th Century where a dangerous whacked-out witch holds the handsome Highlander captive.Nor is she prepared to be drawn so strongly to him that she’ll do whatever it takes to save him. Imprisoned by the witch, Toren Limont the High Sorcerer and Protector of the Faes’ magic, uses the last of his magical reserves to go forward in time and find a healer the witch doesn’t have any influence over. He merely seeks the small respite a healing can give him in order to continue to withstand the witch’s tortures long enough for his clan and siblings to flee.Until Charity falls with him through time as either his salvation or his entire clan’s downfall.