I’m so pleased to have fellow Soul Mate Author, Meggan Connors in The Blue Rose Writing Room today.
She’s interviewing her hero from her new release. I confess, I have a weak spot for a man in a kilt!
Welcome Meggan and Kenneth.
Hi Everyone,
Well, I thought I’d mix this up a little bit, so I’m joined by Kenneth Mackay, my hero from Highland Deception. I figured I’d let him answer the interview questions, as he is most certainly more interesting than I am.
Kenneth arches his eyebrow at me, but he stays quiet.
Meggan:So, Kenneth, what do you consider your greatest achievement?
Kenneth: Please call me Malcolm. I doona answer to Kenneth.
Meggan:Righto. Um. Well. You’re greatest achievement?
Kenneth glances over at Isobel: I wish for naught more than to be a good laird and a good husband. I doona ken if I have achieved either of those.
Meggan:What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Kenneth: There is no such thing as perfect happiness.
Meggan’s note: The way he looks at Isobel suggests he believes otherwise, but whatever. You can’t really dispute the word of an 18th century laird.
Meggan:Okay. If you say so.
Kenneth:I do.
Meggan:What is your most treasured possession?
Without looking down, Kenneth twists a large ring on his finger. It’s on the cover of Highland Deception, if anyone is interested.
Kenneth:I have this ring. ‘Twas once my father’s, and thought lost long around the time my mother bore my brother and me. Isobel found it in the war room not long after my brother passed.
Meggan:I’m sorry about your brother.
Kenneth:As am I.
Meggan:Tell me, when and where were you the happiest?
Kenneth: I am happiest whenever I am out in the mountains. I prefer being out of doors to remaining in the manor. And I am happiest when I am with Isobel, wherever she may be.
Meggan:What is it that you most dislike?
Kenneth:I detest haggis and the smell of tallow candles. But tallow is inexpensive, so I suppose I have learned to abide by it. At least I am not forced to endure haggis any longer. Being laird does have its benefits.
Meggan:Which person do you most despise?
Kenneth:I lack a certain fondness for the Countess Sutherland. The Mackays and the Sutherlands have ever been at odds over access to the Strathnaver. However, the Countess Sutherland is somewhat more difficult than the others to tolerate. Ach, and her nephew, John Gordon. I canno’ stand the lot of them.
Meggan:What is your greatest regret?
Kenneth rubs his forehead and frowns: I regret that my brother had to die for me to assume this position. My brother and I may not have always agreed, and we spoke nary a word to one another for ten years, but he is—was—my brother. I once thought I knew his heart as if it were my own.
Meggan:And what makes you the happiest?
Kenneth:Horses. Being out in the highlands. And Isobel. I am happiest when she is near.
Meggan:Thank you for joining me today, and sharing a little bit of yourself with my readers!
Kenneth:You are very welcome.
BLURB
When Kenneth Mackay, long-banished rogue and thief, returns to the Mackay holding at the request of his brother, he has no idea what he might find. He certainly doesn’t expect to be confronted with his twin’s imminent death, or with the plan his brother has concocted.
Isobel barely knows the husband who abandoned her even before their marriage, and she’d long since given up on having a real marriage with him. Yet when she returns to the Mackay holding far earlier than expected, she finds her husband a changed man. Despite the hurt between them, Isobel’s heart responds to this man who cares for his entire clan as if they were family. Who, for the first time since their marriage, cares for her as if she is, too.
Falling in love with her husband had never been part of Isobel’s plan. But when their future is suddenly in peril, Isobel must find a way to save him—from himself and from the deception threatening to tear them apart.
EXCERPT
Malcolm closed his eyes wearily and made a dismissive gesture with his hands. Despite the low light and the dark beard that ran from Malcolm’s neck to his cheeks, Kenneth saw Malcolm’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “You never answered me. Why do you care?”
Kenneth remained silent for fear his voice would betray him. He turned from his brother and tossed the foul bandages in the fire, simply to escape what he’d seen, if only for a moment.
The wound had festered, the skin around the wound hot, raised and dark. Pus oozed from the gaping hole in his brother’s leg, and pale red lines extended out in all directions from the wound itself. Malcolm’s leg bore evidence of leeches and bloodletting.
Fat lot of good that had done him. His blood was poisoned.
“Kenneth,” Malcolm prompted.
“Where’s the healer keeping the bandages?”
“The chest at the foot of the bed,” Malcolm answered. “Now tell me why it matters at all to you if I live. Tell me why you came back.”
Kenneth opened the trunk and pulled out the bandages. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet his brother’s eyes. Instead, he cleaned the wound as best he could and began wrapping it with clean linen. Around and around, losing himself in the simplicity of the task. He focused on the motion of his hands to avoid focusing on his brother’s injury.
“Because,” he answered. Another swath of linen went around his brother’s thigh. “You sent for me. I’m a Mackay. I answer. How did you find me, anyway?”
“Doesna matter.” Malcolm shook his head. “But you’re not back just because I sent for you.”
“No?” Kenneth struggled to keep his tone even. He covered his brother in blankets and walked over to the fire. Picking up a poker, he stabbed at the logs until they crackled and hissed. An ember floated out of the hearth and descended to the stone floor by Malcolm’s bed, where it darkened and went out.
“No,” Malcolm said. He was quiet for a long time.
Kenneth drew a hand over his mouth and shook his head. “You’re my brother,” he finally admitted. “No matter what happened between us, I would take your place right now, if I could.”
“Did I not tell you, Grant?” Malcolm laughed, but the laugh was drowned in a cough.
Kenneth whipped around to find Grant standing just inside the doorway. He leaned against the frame, and his jaw worked as he frowned in Kenneth’s direction. “Aye, you said as much,” the man growled.
“What’s this about, then?” Kenneth demanded. His shoulders stiffened, and he rested his hand on the short sword at his hip.
The corners of Malcolm’s lips curved up into a smile that nearly wasn’t one. He blinked slowly, and when he opened his eyes again, his blue eyes appeared a little glassy. “I’m dying, Kenn.”
“Nay, you are not,” Kenneth lied.
“’Tis naught to fash yourself over,” Malcolm said. “I’ve made my peace with myself and my Lord. The only one I’ve not made peace with is you.”
“What happened is in the past now.” Kenneth stood and shook his head in an attempt to banish the painful memories. The last thing he wanted now was to relive what was fast becoming the second most painful day of his life, after this one.
“But ‘tis not, is it?” Malcolm asked. “Not for either of us. If things were different, you’d be here, in my place, and I’d be in yours.”
“Or hanged.”
The corner of Malcolm’s lips tipped upwards. “Right. I’d forgotten your sentence.”
“Of course you did.” Kenneth hadn’t intended for his voice to sound as bitter as it did.
He leaned against the hearth, but the room was as hot as blazes, and he moved over to the window. As he brushed the heavy drapes aside, he put his hand against the glass. The surface was damp and cool beneath his palm, a stark contrast to the furnace of this room.
On the other side of the glass were the rolling hills of the Highlands, where his band of outcasts waited for him to return. Out there, he faced both freedom and the imminent threat of death.
But the latter was never far in the Highlands. Famine and cold, sickness and war with other clans, had been a part of his reality for as long as he could remember, whether he’d been safely inside the heart of a clan or not.
“I meant no offense.”
Kenneth acknowledged his brother with a nod, but didn’t turn from the window.
“I once did you a grievous wrong, Kenn.”
“Aye.”
“I can’t make up for all you lost.”
“’Tis in the past.” Kenneth closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool glass.
“Nay. But now I’m dying, and I want to give you what you once gave me. I want to give you a life.”
Kenneth laughed bitterly. “Will you simply summon the sheriff? Explain ‘twas naught but a misunderstanding?” He looked up at the ceiling, where a fat rat raced along one of the beams. “You cannot change the decisions I made. I may not have partaken in the first crime, but the others? They are mine. I’m guilty of the ones the sheriff kens, and several more he does not. Took me a while, but I earned the hanging I’ll get if I’m caught.”
“Doona be ridiculous,” Grant snapped. “Of course we would not sully the good name of the laird of Clan Mackay. ‘Tis bad enough it has come to this.”
Kenneth eyes darted from his brother to Grant and back again. He shifted his weight, put his hand on the rapier at his hip, thought better of it, and relaxed his hands. “Come to what?”
“The life I want to give you is not yours, Kenn.” Malcolm closed his eyes, and his voice shook. “’Tis mine.”
CONNECT WITH MEGGAN
Website: www.megganconnors.com
Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/meggan.connors/
Twitter: @megganconnors
BUY LINK
http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Deception-Meggan-Connors-ebook/dp/B00J3D2JS6/
