LitConnect Blog Tour for Taming a Wild Scot by Rowan Keats (Giveaway + Excerpt)

Taming a Wild Scot

by Rowan Keats

Genre: Historical Romance

Elements/Tags: Medieval, Scottish, Highlander

Publisher: Signet Eclipse

Publishing Date: November 5, 2013

Series: Claimed by the Highlander #1

Format: Print, e-Book

Back Cover:

Wrongfully accused of murder and left to die in a hellish Highland dungeon, Ana Bisset has lost all hope of freedom. But the beautiful healer’s luck takes an unexpected turn when a hooded stranger appears as her rescuer. After a harrowing escape, Ana settles alone in a quiet village where no one knows her past or her reputation. The last thing she ever expects is to meet her mysterious savior again...

Niall MacCurran is no hero, but a warrior on a dangerous mission to expose a threat to the realm. After his decision to free Ana, he now realizes that it is he who needs her help—willing or no—to advance his quest. But his growing feelings for the delicate yet resilient beauty soon jeopardize their safety—and not even Ana’s healing gifts may be enough to protect their love, or their lives.

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Meet Author Rowan Keats:

Rowan Keats pens historical adventures about hot Highland heroes and the women they claim. The first book in her Claimed by the Highlander series, TAMING A WILD SCOT, hits store shelves on November 5, 2013. Rowan's debut garnered a 4 1/2 star review from RT Book Reviews, which also named her "a rising star of medieval romance".

When not writing, Rowan can frequently be found in a dark movie theater indulging in a large bag of popcorn, or watching the sunrise with a mug of steaming coffee wrapped in her hands. She lives in Central Canada with a goofy black lab, a very talkative cat, and a daughter whose own creative talents awe and inspire her every day.

Website ~  Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

One copy of Taming the Wild Scot will be gifted per the total number of tour stops. (US/Ca Only) Please follow the Rafflecopter widget directions.

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Excerpt from Taming a Wild Scot

Niall woke to the sound of a barely discernible whimper.

It was still dark in the hut, and his right arm felt as if a thousand pins were poking his flesh. Ana lay in his arms, her sweet form fitted perfectly to his, but her sleep was not restful. A shudder rocked her body, and she murmured something unintelligible. Something that sounded like a protest.

He frowned.

Was she reliving the night he’d abandoned her in the forest? The night she’d been chased by a Lochurkie guard and injured her head? That scar would forever serve as a reminder of how he’d failed her.

“Nay,” Ana murmured, jerking.

He gathered her closer, ignoring the uncomfortable heaviness of his arm and the voice in his head that called her enemy. “Hush, lass. You’re safe. The wretch is long gone.”

She collapsed against his chest with a sigh, and Niall felt a moment’s satisfaction. But then she gripped his forearm, her nails digging deeply, and she cried quite distinctly, “Mother! Oh, gods, nay! Nay!”

The last word extended into a low keen of despair and Niall felt her pain vibrate though his body. Unfamiliar with the ways of comforting a woman, he simply continued to hold her tight, all the while gently rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head.

Eventually, the nightmare faded. The stiffness left her limbs and her breathing evened.

Niall held her until he was certain she had regained a peaceful slumber, and then he eased from her side and rolled off the bed. Hellfire. He’d known it would be a mistake to touch her, but he hadn’t guessed just how serious it would be. Holding her in his arms had felt unbelievably right, like a gaping hole in his gut had been filled.

Flexing his hand to revive it, he studied the woman on the mattress, trying with all his might to harden his heart. She was not the bonnie, courageous lass he insisted on seeing. Everything pointed to her involvement in the devastation of his clan—her presence in Duthes, her knowledge of poisons, her survival against unbelievable odds—so why did he continue to desire her with all the fury of a Highland tempest?

It made no sense.

He was generally impervious to the wiles of women.

But from the moment he first laid eyes on her, something about Ana had stirred him. Rescuing her had not been his intent, but once he looked down upon her beautiful, bone-thin face, he’d been unable to turn away. And afterward, as they ran for the forest, her quiet determination to press on in spite of pain and weariness and trembling illness had impressed him no end. He knew big, strapping men who would have dropped under such conditions.

He turned away.

Damn, he was doing it again.

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