Title: My Highland Bride
Series: Highland Hearts, Book 2
Author: Maeve Greyson
Release Date: August 25, 2015
Genre: Time Travel (Modern to Historical), Romance
ARC Received From: NetGalley
Reviewed For: Tasty Book Tours
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Perfect for fans of the Highlander novels of Karen Marie Moning and Janet Chapman, Southern sass meets Highland heat in Maeve Greyson’s scintillating new Highland Hearts romance.
With bedroom eyes and racetrack curves, Kenna Sinclair seems like just another pretty Kentucky girl. But she can also read minds, erase memories, and jump through time—a skill set that comes in handy when her matchmaking granny sends her back to thirteenth-century Scotland on the pretext of visiting her older sister. When she encounters the clan’s womanizing man-at-arms, Kenna instantly knows the gorgeous Highlander has only one thing on his mind. She vows to steer clear of him, but after a single electrifying touch, she finds that playing hard to get won’t be quite so easy. . . .
Other books in this series
This is Kenna and Colum's story. Kenna is the second oldest Sinclair sister and the most adept at reading mind and erasing memories. She's a twenty-first century woman through and through, aside from her very cool (in my opinion) abilities and aside from the fact that she is a twenty-three year old virgin. Okay, that might not sound like too big of a deal to some readers, but it was to me. And I adored her for waiting for The One.
It was kinda funny The One ended up being the "clan gigolo" as Kenna so nicely put it. But that was before she got to know Colum, before Colum proved he was worthy of not only her love but the right to claim her virginity. As a man-at-arms, he was a seasoned soldier, a warrior who protected what he loved with his life. He lived hard and played hard. Unfortunately his reputation caught up with him when Kenna landed in his life. Earning the right to claim her as his own was going to take some work, some convincing that went beyond words, before she would give it to him.
It's funny the things one will do to save the one they love. Though Kenna and Colum knew they were meant to be together, Kenna made a huge sacrifice to ensure Colum was given the medical attention he needed after he was severely injured. Her intentions were honorable and good but the pain in Colum's voice when he begged her not to was excruciating to read. But Kenna's own internal pain at her choice was just as difficult. And I wondered, given my limited understanding of thirteenth century Scottish wedding customs, if what she did could ever be undone or they would be forced to live out half-full existences.
You have to love family. They tend to be the ones to slap some God-needed sense into people. Granny was totally that person, not just to Kenna but to Colum too. If she hadn't intervened when she did, I could only assume those two would die of broken hearts.
This is a fast-paced story so I promise you won't get bored if you take a chance and read it. Ms. Greyson did a wonderful job writing a solid follow up to the first book in this series. Though characters from book one make appearances, their personalities are not diminished. Their strength and loyalty and love and affection for Kenna and Colum only add to make their love story all that more captivating.
Gray-white ash crept up the chunks of glowing embers as the heat of the fire abated. Granny’s voice took on a metallic, hollow sound, fading in and out as the connection through the fire portal weakened. “Don’t waste your time pouting or plotting to stay in the future. You knew this day was coming. Accept your destiny and embrace it.”
Kenna held her breath to keep from shouting “It isn’t fair” into the dying flames. No. I can’t do that. Granny deserves respect. No matter how much Granny pissed her off, she couldn’t defy the woman who’d given up so much to ensure that her four granddaughters not only survived their rough beginnings in the thirteenth century but thrived in whatever time Granny chose to place them. “Fine. I’ll see you and Trulie in a week.” Fighting against the squeezing frustration cutting off her air, Kenna stirred the coals one last time and forced out a strained “I love you, Granny.”
“I love you too, gal.” Granny’s pleased chuckle fanned the coals a hotter orange for a brief instant. “You’ll thank me, gal. I promise. You will thank me.”
Kenna slammed the cast-iron door to the stove shut and closed all the dampers. She very much doubted she’d thank Granny when she was balancing on a chamber pot or washing in icy water dipped out of a loch. The thirteenth century. Dammit. Kenna shuddered, flopped back on the couch, and dropped her head to her hands.
Keys rattled in the front door right before it swung open and banged against the wall. Giggles and frantic shushing echoed down the hallway. Kenna straightened and glanced at the ancient mantel clock squatting in the center of the bookshelf. Lovely. The twins were home, and they were late. Again.
“Would it kill you two to be on time? Just once?” Kenna snatched up the bowl of popcorn and headed to the kitchen. She was in no mood to deal with bubbly sisters who were currently lucky enough to not have a freakin’ care in the world.
“We’re not that late. It’s only five after,” Lilia said with a glance toward the clock.
Both grinning girls—twins who looked nothing alike—plopped down on stools in front of the bar separating the den from the kitchen.
“And sounds like you’re in a real snit. Are you really that torqued over five measly minutes?” Mairi helped herself to the bowl of popcorn, then peered at Kenna with a look that irritated her even more.
Kenna clenched her teeth and tapped a finger against the countertop to a silent count of ten. She didn’t need to explode at them. It wasn’t her sisters’ fault that Granny had decided her visa to the twenty-first century had expired. She turned to Lilia. “Five minutes is five minutes. We agreed you would both be home by seven so we could go over next week’s schedule at the shop—since, if you recall, we’re introducing the new seasonal line of bath oils.”
A flash of irrational sisterly irritation heated Kenna even further. “And how many times have I asked you not to wear my tops? You stretch them out so much I can’t wear them after you’re done with them.”
Petite but well-endowed Lilia glanced down at the snug T-shirt straining across her full bosoms. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you said you didn’t want this one anymore.”
“What’s going on with you?” Tall, willowy Mairi reached across the counter and gently patted Kenna’s hand. “Spill it, Kenna. You never get like this unless someone’s crossed you. What’s rubbed your fur the wrong way?”
Kenna gripped the edge of the counter so tightly, her knuckles popped. How could she tell her baby sisters their comfortable life was about to get put through the time-travel grinder again? Her heart sank even lower. How can I tell them I’m about to leave them too?
“You’ve been talking to Granny, haven’t you?”
Kenna nodded without lifting her gaze from the yellowed countertop. “Yes, Mairi. I spoke to Granny. The two of you just missed her.” She huffed out a heavy sigh and sagged against the cabinet. “She sends her love and said to tell you both she’s very proud of you.”
“If that’s what she said, then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Mairi’s eyes widened and she suddenly sat ramrod straight. “Oh, no—is Trulie all right? Please say she didn’t lose this baby too.” Mairi hopped off the stool and rushed around the counter to Kenna’s side.
“Oh, no . . . not again.” Lilia rounded the other end of the kitchen island.
Kenna waved both sisters a step back. “No. No. Nothing like that. Trulie’s feeling fine, and is due to deliver our little niece or nephew into the world any day now.”
“Then what?” Lilia bumped Kenna with a curvaceous hip and grinned. “Did Granny tell you it was your turn to go back to the past and hook up with a sexy Highlander?”
Kenna didn’t say a word, just turned and glared at Lilia. Baby sister already knew the truth of it, and she hadn’t even needed any of her damn foretelling visions that happened to be her dominant talent as a Sinclair time runner.
“Holy shit, she did, didn’t she?” Lilia’s mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit,” Mairi echoed.
No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them. That’s been Maeve Greyson’s mantra since she was a girl. When she’s not at the full time day job at the steel mill, Maeve’s writing romances about sexy Highlanders and the women who tame them. Tucked away in a five acre wood, Maeve listens to the wind singing through the trees and hears her characters telling their stories. Her work is proofed by her sharp-eyed dog, Jasper, and her greatest supporter is her long suffering husband of over thirty-five years who’s learned not to throw away any odd sticky notes filled with strange phrases.