The wait is finally over! The second installment of my award-winning Highland Spies series is released tomorrow.
I had so much fun with this one. For those of you who loved Declan and Liadan from my Bad Boys of the Highlands series (X Marks the Scot,) I think you're going to love the banter between Fagan and Grace in Kilts and Daggers. These two were destined to despise each other, especially since Fagan is a Scot and Grace is English.
Here's a little snippet.
Kilts, daggers, and men in the throes of battle—that’s what she tried to overlook while standing in the great hall of her brother-in-law’s home. Granted, the kilts and daggers belonged to the Sutherland clan, but she couldn’t understand why her sister hadn’t taken down those dreadful tapestries before her wedding day. Why would someone want to depict the ghastly scene of warriors on the battlefield, especially on such a celebratory occasion? That was not something she would permit on the day of her own wedding, but her sister was blissfully happy, and Grace supposed that was all that mattered.
When the men paid her no heed, Grace turned and left them. She could take a hint that she wasn’t wanted. She stepped around the bagpiper, placing her hands briefly over her ears to shield them from the dreadful performance. The kilted man tapped his foot while he played the ungodly instrument, which sounded a great deal like pigs in the midst of being slaughtered. If his actions were any indication, he clearly thought he was engaged in some kind of lovely Scottish melody. She didn’t want to tell him that the music, if she could even call it that, had given her a headache as big as London.
God, she felt like she was drowning in a sea of Sutherlands. She said a silent prayer of thanks when the bagpiper finally ceased his incessant piping. Her head was pounding. She thought perhaps she could make an early escape to her chamber, but then a raised voice stopped her in her tracks. Although the man was rarely comprehensible, she’d recognize his voice anywhere.
“He is such an arse. Ye do know when he tells the tale, he was naught but a mighty fine warrior. Anyone who knows him recognizes the truth. I donna even think he remembered to grab his sword before he cowered and ran away like a dog with his tail between his legs.”
The men around him laughed in response, and Grace chided herself because she couldn’t resist a peek. When her eyes met Fagan Murray, the captain of Laird Sutherland’s guard, for some unknown reason, her heart started hammering in her chest and she found it difficult to perform the simplest of tasks—like breathing.
The captain’s dark hair hung well below his shoulders, and he had a smile that grated on her nerves. Although he had the craggy look of an unfinished sculpture, he exuded masculinity in a way that unsettled her. He wore a kilt of green, black, blue, white, and orange, the Sutherland tartan. When the man caught her staring, his eyes twinkled, and a smile played on his lips.
“In a classic story of disdain leading to love, Fagan and Grace’s banter strengthens their connection... Grace and Fagan make visiting the Highlands worth the trip.”
“Roberts continues to craft fast-moving, well-written plots populated by real-life characters, keeping readers in the story from beginning to satisfying conclusion... a fascinating romance.”
—RT Book Reviews
“An exceptionally nuanced Highland romance.”
Do you love when a hero and heroine verbally spar with one another, or do you prefer the gentle cat and mouse game? I'm giving away autographed paperback copies of My Highland Spy and Kilts and Daggers, two Highland Spies t-shirts (Ruairi and Fagan) and swag to one lucky commenter (US and Canada only, please.) Giveaway ends Friday, May 8, 2015. Be sure to check back to see if you're a winner.