Hi! I’m Claire. I’m a normal chick. Texan by birth, I’m a romance novel addict who’s always been obsessed with Scotland. I finally saved up enough dough to visit the Highlands and ended up getting sent back in time.
Bad thing, right?
Not so much, since I met the man of my dreams and decided to stay! Now I’m a MacLeod.
What do you hope reader’s take away from this retelling of your story?
Claire looks thoughtful. That love is never wrong, no matter the obstacles that might be in the way.
What is one thing your storyteller got right?
Claire wears a cheeky grin.Um. That Duncan is, well, hawt.
What is one thing your storyteller misrepresented?
Misrepresented? Nah. C.A. is awesome, of course! Claire looks smug.
Excluding your own, what is your favorite book?
Hmmm, Ransom, by Julie Garwood. Pretty sure C.A. loves this one, too.
What would you have named your story?
Claire throws her head back and laughs. The same thing C.A. did. I told her that title, after all.
Were you reluctant to have your story told?
Nope. It’s not like anyone will believe it. Who things time travel is real, let alone Faery Princesses?
If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
Claire tilts her head to one side.To not be so impulsive, even though Duncan loves that about me.
In what setting would you have preferred your story to have taken place?
I don’t see how it could’ve been told elsewhere. C.A. told my story as I told it to her. It was an accurate retelling of what happened.
Your storyteller told some pretty embarrassing tales about you. Is there any secrets you’d like to share about them?
She’s a huge geek. A Trekkie even. Claire winks.
What is your favorite chapter of your story?
I have two. Chapters 9 and 10. When you read it, you’ll know why.
If price was no consequence, what gift would you buy your love interest?
Well, it’s different here. Living in the past I mean. If I could bring the 21st century here I would love to buy him a laptop. Or a movie projector with an endless supply of movies. I think Duncan would be fascinated about our technology. When I talk about it, he says he can’t fathom it, and I wish I could show him.
Other than that, he has everything he wants and needs. One thing about this time, and the people I have grown to love. They’re content.
They work harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and I adore them.
What first attracted you to your love interest?
Claire laughs.Um. He’s hot. Gorgeous eyes. And his chest. Muscles.
What surprises you most about your love interest?
He’s gentle. Sweet and caring. Claire has a brilliant smile on her face.
At what moment did you know you were in love?
Claire sighs dreamily.Honestly I’m not sure I can pinpoint it. He’s just…so Duncan. Perfect. It happened faster than I ever could have fathomed. Maybe when he looked at me the day we got married.
If you could watch your love interest’s childhood as a film, would you?
About The Author:
C.A. is originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She is married and has a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice.
She works with kids when she’s not writing.
She’s always wanted to be a writer and is overjoyed to share her stories with the world.
“Who goes there?” A deep, accented voice made her jump.
Her MP3 player crashed to the sand, the wires from her headphones ripping over her shoulders as they flew away from her body, but she didn’t go after the devices.
Claire’s heart kicked into overdrive, and she shot her arm across her naked breasts. Plastered her palm over her bare sex.
“Okay, don’t like this dream anymore.” Her voice jumped up an octave.
Why can’t I wake up?
Maybe a touch of fright would make her wake the hell up.
“Ummm….hello?” Claire ventured even though her pulse pounded in her temples. She didn’t see the voice’s owner, but she was stuck now.
Not like I can run and hide.
She wasn’t fond of a stranger seeing her nude, even if gym time had given her a rockin’ body.
Claire smirked. Her sister would’ve declared her egotistical right then and there.
Three figures came into view, standing atop a grassy overhang and staring down at her. Two men and a boy.
“Lass?” One asked.
Okay, no more Scottish Highlander romance novels before bed for you, Claire McGowan. But at least she’d placed the accent.
All three were dressed in period clothing. Like—seventeen hundreds or something. The tallest one had a tartan kilt on.
The man who’d spoken was older, wearing a thick grey beard he was currently scratching, as if he was trying to figure her out.
Well, duh. Naked girl on the beach at the ass crack of dawn should do it every time.
The boy looked about ten. He scrambled down the incline, stopping about three feet from her and staring. Wide blue eyes. Dark, messy hair that needed a good cut.
Claire backed up, squeezing her eyes shut. “Seriously, wake up.” Though she should pat herself on the back for the vivid imagination—if she didn’t have to cover her tender parts—she would’ve so been on that.
This place looked and felt real.
“Are ye Fae?” The kid’s brogue was thick, but his voice was high, making him sound younger than she’d guessed.
“Wh-what?” Claire asked, taking another step back.
“Angus, hush.” The last man admonished. His voice was familiar; he’d been the one who’d called out first.
He jumped down to the beach with little effort.
Claire almost forgot to cover herself as she gazed up at him.
Had to be about six-five or six-six.
Definitely had a foot on her, for sure.
Blue eyes, like the kid. Long black hair that flowed in the wind. He was wearing a kilt, and had the same tartan pattern strewn across his body, shoulder to waist and held down with a belt, but no shirt beneath. A huge, defined pec peeked out and her stomach fluttered.
Good job, Claire. At least you dreamt up someone yummy.
The model on the cover of the book she’d been reading before bed had nothing on this guy.
“Lass? Are ye all right?” His voice was concerned, as was his expression. He spoke gently.
Way to go on the stutter, Clair-bear. Her sister’s nickname popped into her head with ease. It should’ve grounded her, but she still didn’t wake up.
“She talks funny, uncle!”
How can he tell?
She’d said two words, literally.
“Where am I?” Claire whispered. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her shift on her feet.
“Isle of Skye.” The boy jumped up and down. “We were supposed to go fishing. But I found ye, instead.”
“Hush, Angus MacLeod,” the man said, but there was amusement in his tone. However, he didn’t take his eyes off Claire.
A tremor slid down her spine when his gaze travelled her frame.
She wanted to sink into the sand, her earlier confidence about her body gone. Claire shivered, her teeth chattered.
“Jesu, lass. Yer freezin’.” The huge man unbelted the plaid from his waist and whipped it off his torso. It was a separate piece from his kilt, and now he stood before her bare chested. His accent was as thick as the boy’s, but she could make his words out clearer.
Sexy as hell.
“Yeah, kinda naked over here.” A nervous titter fell from her lips and made Claire wince.
“Is she Fae, uncle?” Angus asked.
“Ye’ve been spending too much time with my father. Da, stop clouding the lad’s head with faery tales,” the man called.
The old guy on the hill chuckled. “Och, then ye shouldna leave the lad with me when you go off.”
“Like I have a choice.”