Reporter Amy Jarecki here. I’ll go anywhere for my story, and today I’ve time-traveled all the way to the Scottish Isle of Raasay in the year 1559. I was captured by Calum MacLeod’s men and marched into the massive fortress of Brochel Castle with my hands bound. After pleading with John, the master at arms, at last I’ve gained an audience with the Highland Laird.
Calum MacLeod is seated upon the dais in a red upholstered chair. He’s leaning forward, cradling his chin in one hand, while the other fist rests on his hip. Behind him, John stands at the ready, a big claymore on his hip and a dirk in his belt.
Calum eyes me from head to toe: Me men said ye want a word?
I tremble involuntarily under the power of his glare. His posture, his narrowed eyes, the slight scowl to his lips…everything about the man tells me he is not to be trifled with. But I’d risked too much to back away now: I’ve come to interview you for my blog tour. You’re featured in a novel and women everywhere would give their eye teeth for a chance to get to know you better.
Calum smirks and glances at John: Ye say women fancy this gruff, ruddy face? From what year do ye hail?
Amy: 2014
Calum: Och, ye mean to tell me I’m featured in a book near five-hundred years into the future?
Amy: Yes. A romance.
Calum: God on the cross, a bloody romantic tale? Why am I not in a seafaring adventure that tells tale of me privateering adventures?
Amy: Oh, there’s plenty of adventure…and piracy. But I’m here to interview you, not the other way around.
Calum: Ye’ll answer me questions else be thrown into the bay and swim back to yer time.
Amy: Excuse me, but I answered you. I believe I’ve earned the right to ask you something.
Calum: Aye? Then ye’d best speak quick, I’ve better things to do with me time than sitting on me arse chatting with a suspect time-traveling lassie.
Amy: Of course. Tell me, what went through your head the first time you saw Lady Anne.
Calum: Och, now I ken why yer tale is a romance…There was a fierce storm that night. Mind you, bad weather was in our favor. If we didna capture that ship, I dunna ken if the clan would have survived another winter. We thought we’d been thorough and put all the English bastards in skiffs headed to the mainland, but we missed one.
Amy: Lady Anne?
Calum: Aye. I found the locked stateroom. Expecting a bloody fight, I kicked in the door, sword at the ready, snarling like a badger. Wedged in the far corner of the room, the poor lassie was holding a knife, shaking like a sapling in the wind. But, och, she made me knees melt into boneless limbs.
Amy: What did she look like?
Calum: Perfection…Have you ever looked at a woman and known in that moment she was the one?
Amy: I have—a man, that is.
Calum: I’ll nay forget the sight of her as long as I live. Her mane of honey blonde hair hung down to her waist, a lock covered one eye. When I moved closer, me hands itched to reach out and brush the wisp away so I could see both of her sapphire eyes. Light from a single lamp flickered gold across her face, her red lips formed a perfect bow, yet they quivered with fear.
Amy: She was afraid of you…
Calum: What wee lassie wouldna be quaking in her boots after listening to blood curdling screams and blasting cannons, hiding on a ship that’s being pillaged by yer enemy?
Amy: I see your point. But how did you win her heart?
Calum: I assure ye, that was no easy feat…one I’d wager is in yer romantic tale for certain.
Amy: Very true, Captured by the Pirate Laird reveals it all.
Calum: I’m afraid I’ve nay more time to give ye this day. Yer welcome to help yerself to a meal in the kitchen afore ye take yer leave.
Amy: Thank you, laird. And thank you for granting me an audience today.
Book 1 of the Highland Force series
Genre: historical romance
About Captured By The Pirate Laird:
Wed by proxy to a baron old enough to be her grandfather, Lady Anne trudges up the gangway of a galleon that will deliver her into the arms of a tyrant. Crestfallen, she believes her disastrous life cannot get worse—until she awakes to the blasts of cannon fire.Source: Info in the About Captured By The Pirate Laird was from the press kit from the publicity team.
Facing certain death, Anne trembles in her stateroom while swords clash and the chilling screams of battle rage on the deck above. When a rugged Highlander kicks in her door, she prays for a swift end.
But Laird Calum MacLeod has a reason for plundering the ship—and it’s not a stunning English lass. With no other choice, he takes Anne to his crumbling keep on the isle of Raasay and sends a letter of ransom to her husband. In time, Anne grows to understand MacLeod’s plight and finds it increasingly difficult to resist Calum’s unsettling charm—until the baron sends a reply agreeing to terms.
Ripped from passion that will be forever seared into their souls, will Anne and Calum risk everything for love?
Excerpt:
She turned and caught him staring. He bowed and his heart melted when she smiled—a smile with dimples that could light up the horizon. He half expected Anne to turn up her pert little nose and head the other way.
Before he could persuade himself otherwise, Calum pattered down the steps and stood beside her. She watched the sunset and her warmth pulled him close like a magnet.
“’Tis beautiful,” she said when the sky shone with orange and pink, highlighted against the strips of clouds that sailed toward the ship.
He inhaled. Her scent ever so feminine, Calum inclined his head to capture more of it. “Aye, milady.”
She placed her hand on the rail. Again his reflexes took over and he rested his palm atop it. Calum expected her to snatch it away, but she did not. Her fingers were cold and he held his much warmer hand there as a comfort. They stood in silence as the sun glowed orange-red on the horizon. He wanted to stand there forever—touching her. Barely breathing, he watched the sun disappear and held his hand still, unwilling to move it.
The sun was replaced by darkness. Lady Anne slipped her hand out from under his and the dark of the evening took up residence inside him. She was not his to lust after. “May I walk you to your stateroom?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded husky. Had she felt the connection too? Of course not.
Calum offered his arm and that same small, cold hand grasped it. “We’ll arrive at Raasay in the morning.”
“Our destination?”
“Aye.”
“Bran told me.”
Secrets were impossible to keep on a ship. “I will send a letter of ransom to yer husband upon our arrival.” He didn’t like how that sounded—ye are my prisoner until Lord Wharton pays for your release. But that’s how it had to be. If he sailed up the mouth of the River Aln, he would incite yet another war between Scotland and England—and this time his countrymen might side with the enemy.
When they stepped into the corridor, warm air relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
Anne stopped outside her cabin door, breasts straining against her bodice with every breath. “I’ve never met him.”
Calum forced himself to concentrate on her face. “Who?”
“Lord Wharton.”
“What? How?”
“We were wed by proxy. My uncle made the arrangements.”
Ah Jesus. Calum understood the way of highborn marriages, arranged for the trade of lands and riches. “Ye ken he’s old enough to be your father?”
“He’s three times my age plus one year to be exact. His children are older than I.”
A hundred questions flooded his mind. “Why?” he clipped with shocked disbelief.
Anne nodded as if fully understanding his monosyllabic inquiry. “I’m told the Baron fancied me from across Westminster Abbey during the Queen’s coronation.”
“No.” She doesn’t even know the bastard. That’s why she wears no ring.
“Yes. My uncle said he kissed my hand, yet so many lords greeted me on that trip to London, I’m at a loss to place him.”
The despair in her lovely eyes twisted around his heart. “Mayhap ye will remember if we playact it.” With a halfcocked grin, Calum reached for her hand. His mouth went dry when her silken skin met the rough pads of his fingertips. Though a grown woman, her fingers were fine and delicate.
When she didn’t pull away, he moistened his lips and bowed. Hovering above her hand, the soft scent of honeysuckle mixed with her—the unmistakable scent of woman now more captivating than it had been on the deck—ignited his insides as if she stood naked before him. Closing his eyes, he touched his lips to the back of her hand and kissed. Anne’s sharp inhale made his skin shiver with gooseflesh. She did not try to pull away but remained so still, her pulse beat a fierce rhythm beneath.
Calum held his lips there longer than necessary. He wanted this moment to linger. He wanted a memory he could cherish long after she was gone. His eyes locked with hers as he straightened. Her lips parted slightly, almost as if asking him to kiss her mouth, but he knew she wouldn’t want that.
He stood for a moment not saying a word. She did too.
“Any recollection?” His voice rasped.
“No.” Her voice low, she then blinked as if snapping back to the present. “You mustn’t ever do that again.”
“Apologies, milady.” Grinning, he opened her door and bowed, though he did not regret her lack of recall.
Anne stepped into her stateroom. Calum could not pull his gaze away until the door closed and blocked the bewilderment reflected in her sapphire eyes. Calum waited a moment and stared at the hardwood door—the same one he had kicked in five nights ago. What the hell was he doing?
He ground his teeth and headed back to the quarterdeck. He needed to get the lady out of his life. She was not his to care for. Worst of all, she had wed the enemy.
Before he could persuade himself otherwise, Calum pattered down the steps and stood beside her. She watched the sunset and her warmth pulled him close like a magnet.
“’Tis beautiful,” she said when the sky shone with orange and pink, highlighted against the strips of clouds that sailed toward the ship.
He inhaled. Her scent ever so feminine, Calum inclined his head to capture more of it. “Aye, milady.”
She placed her hand on the rail. Again his reflexes took over and he rested his palm atop it. Calum expected her to snatch it away, but she did not. Her fingers were cold and he held his much warmer hand there as a comfort. They stood in silence as the sun glowed orange-red on the horizon. He wanted to stand there forever—touching her. Barely breathing, he watched the sun disappear and held his hand still, unwilling to move it.
The sun was replaced by darkness. Lady Anne slipped her hand out from under his and the dark of the evening took up residence inside him. She was not his to lust after. “May I walk you to your stateroom?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded husky. Had she felt the connection too? Of course not.
Calum offered his arm and that same small, cold hand grasped it. “We’ll arrive at Raasay in the morning.”
“Our destination?”
“Aye.”
“Bran told me.”
Secrets were impossible to keep on a ship. “I will send a letter of ransom to yer husband upon our arrival.” He didn’t like how that sounded—ye are my prisoner until Lord Wharton pays for your release. But that’s how it had to be. If he sailed up the mouth of the River Aln, he would incite yet another war between Scotland and England—and this time his countrymen might side with the enemy.
When they stepped into the corridor, warm air relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
Anne stopped outside her cabin door, breasts straining against her bodice with every breath. “I’ve never met him.”
Calum forced himself to concentrate on her face. “Who?”
“Lord Wharton.”
“What? How?”
“We were wed by proxy. My uncle made the arrangements.”
Ah Jesus. Calum understood the way of highborn marriages, arranged for the trade of lands and riches. “Ye ken he’s old enough to be your father?”
“He’s three times my age plus one year to be exact. His children are older than I.”
A hundred questions flooded his mind. “Why?” he clipped with shocked disbelief.
Anne nodded as if fully understanding his monosyllabic inquiry. “I’m told the Baron fancied me from across Westminster Abbey during the Queen’s coronation.”
“No.” She doesn’t even know the bastard. That’s why she wears no ring.
“Yes. My uncle said he kissed my hand, yet so many lords greeted me on that trip to London, I’m at a loss to place him.”
The despair in her lovely eyes twisted around his heart. “Mayhap ye will remember if we playact it.” With a halfcocked grin, Calum reached for her hand. His mouth went dry when her silken skin met the rough pads of his fingertips. Though a grown woman, her fingers were fine and delicate.
When she didn’t pull away, he moistened his lips and bowed. Hovering above her hand, the soft scent of honeysuckle mixed with her—the unmistakable scent of woman now more captivating than it had been on the deck—ignited his insides as if she stood naked before him. Closing his eyes, he touched his lips to the back of her hand and kissed. Anne’s sharp inhale made his skin shiver with gooseflesh. She did not try to pull away but remained so still, her pulse beat a fierce rhythm beneath.
Calum held his lips there longer than necessary. He wanted this moment to linger. He wanted a memory he could cherish long after she was gone. His eyes locked with hers as he straightened. Her lips parted slightly, almost as if asking him to kiss her mouth, but he knew she wouldn’t want that.
He stood for a moment not saying a word. She did too.
“Any recollection?” His voice rasped.
“No.” Her voice low, she then blinked as if snapping back to the present. “You mustn’t ever do that again.”
“Apologies, milady.” Grinning, he opened her door and bowed, though he did not regret her lack of recall.
Anne stepped into her stateroom. Calum could not pull his gaze away until the door closed and blocked the bewilderment reflected in her sapphire eyes. Calum waited a moment and stared at the hardwood door—the same one he had kicked in five nights ago. What the hell was he doing?
He ground his teeth and headed back to the quarterdeck. He needed to get the lady out of his life. She was not his to care for. Worst of all, she had wed the enemy.
Amy has won multiple writing awards and lives in Utah with her husband, Bob. She writes contemporary romance and Scottish historical romance. For fun, she hikes, bikes and plays a mean game of golf. Born in California, Amy holds an MBA from Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh, Scotland.
Giveaway
Tour Wide giveaway:
- 10 eBook copies Captured by the Pirate Laird by Amy Jarecki
- 2 signed print copies open to US Shipping
- 4 SWAG packets each including a $5 Amazon gift card open to US Shipping
I've read Amy's VIRTUE and I really like it. I hope to be able to read this one soon!
ReplyDeleteThank you for hosting me on your delightful blog today! I really enjoyed writing this interview :-)
ReplyDeleteAmy Jarecki - Thank you for visiting CM! :)
DeleteHi Mai! Virtue was the last contemporary novel I wrote before switching to historical. So glad to hear you liked it :-)
ReplyDeleteAmy, sure did enjoy this. I haven't tried any other books but Pirate Lord. Guess I will have to put them on my TBR list. Although, I enjoyed this so much.
ReplyDeleteA very intense way for them to meet. I can tell their interactions will continue to have that intensity.
ReplyDelete