Heart of a Highlander

How can she love the man responsible for her husband’s death?

When Giselle McTavish left France as the wife of a Scottish laird, she never expected to be widowed two years later and left with a toddler to raise. Filled with animosity toward Highlander, Hugh Ferguson—the man she holds responsible for her husband’s drowning, and a man she must see every day because he, too, lives at Craiglocky Keep—she’s determined her son, the next laird, will be raised in Scotland, nonetheless. Her struggles to overcome loneliness and homesickness are compounded as it becomes more difficult to fight the warm feelings Hugh now stirs in her.

Hugh has loved Giselle almost from the moment he laid eyes on the petite Frenchwoman. But as the wife, and then the widow of his dearest friend, he has refused to act on his feelings. He blames himself for his friend’s death. Guilt as well as the belief Giselle hates him, keeps Hugh’s lips firmly closed and his heart sealed. That all changes one providential Valentine’s Day when he risks everything by using Scottish folklore and legend to at last proclaims his love.

See what readers are saying!

 Heart of a Highlander is perfect for Scottish romance lover! ~Nicole Laverdure
“…a full, thoughtful, touching, sweet story.” ~ K. Westrope
“She writes so fluidly that I find myself so immersed in the plot that I am ‘what? Uh?! Nooo!!.. I want more!! when I do finish.” ~ N. Patywich
“A beautiful story of second loves & a wonderful short prelude to Collette Cameron’s Highlander’s Hope in the Castle Bride Series.” ~ D. Foster
“Combine a lovely Highland romance & Ms. Cameron’s writing style, what you get is a clever, amazing story.” ~E. Evans 



Giselle sent Hugh a swift, unreadable glance before returning her attention to her son.

Her hood slipped backward and exposed her features.

Extraordinary turquoise eyes, framed by lashes so thick, he wondered how she raised her eyelids, twinkled with affection. Her high cheeks and full lips, glowing from the cold, contrasted with her creamy skin. The wind ruffled the silky, chestnut curls framing her oval face.

Bending forward a handsbreadth, Hugh reached behind her and lifted the hood over her head. Her perfume, something light and floral with just a hint of spiciness, wafted to his nostrils. He bent another inch and inhaled.


He’d never tire of her scent.

Tugging the hood lower to protect her face, his hand brushed her velvety cheek.

She gasped, and her gaze flew to mesh with his.

His groin tightened.

A blush swept up the fine lines of her cheeks, and her pink tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip before she bit it and averted her gaze.

Hugh cocked his head and considered her.

Eyes downcast and her breathing shallow, she fidgeted with her plaid, running her forefinger along the frog closure at her throat.

She’s nervous.

A slow grin edged his lips upward at the corners.

Aye, the kind of apprehension a woman displays when she’s interested in a man and is unsure her feelings are reciprocated. 




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