Searching… Lara Zeroun needs something in her life, so she opens a portal in time and travels to the ancient Highlands. But, how can she become involved with a dark, mysterious man who belongs to another time? Waiting… Due to the matriarchal line of inheritance, Iain is no longer able to lay claim to his father's lands. He's prepared to ...
Lara Zeroun needs something in her life, so she opens a portal in time and travels to the ancient Highlands. But, how can she become involved with a dark, mysterious man who belongs to another time?
Due to the matriarchal line of inheritance, Iain is no longer able to lay claim to his father's lands. He's prepared to leave--until a golden-haired woman visits the manor on the arm of a wandering storyteller. But, with no land or possessions, Iain dares not succumb to the temptation of Lara.
Danger lurks in Iain's time and becomes a threat to Lara's present. Will Lara and Iain be able to defeat the evil and make their ways through time--finding the love they both desire?
The heat flared in Iain’s face as though he had been outside too long after a dim, sunless winter. He could not lift his eyes past the hand that looked so small, yet fit so perfectly in his. Was it possible she trembled at his touch?
The need to feel his lips against her honey-gold skin drew his head lower. At the same time his hand lifted until her fingers were a mere inch from his mouth. He tasted her name before touching her skin. “Lara.”
The back of her hand was warm, the gentle kiss the barest brush of lips against her. Reluctance pushed her whispered name past his lips again before he pulled back. “I beg pardon, m’lady.”
Soft and breathless she asked, “For what?”
“I took liberty ‘twas no’ mine to take.”
Lara eased her hand from his and rested it against his cheek. He barely felt the touch of her fingers as she guided his face toward her. The violet swirl of her eyes swallowed him. “What liberty?”
“To kiss ye so.” To desire ye so. “Ye belong to another.”
*lizzie made up games and stories to keep her company as a child. So, a witch lived in Grampa’s weather research station and was only held at bay by a certain weed. An ancient road grader became a boat carrying wild adventurers to islands filled with sheep that turned into lions and cannibals.
Now, the stories of her imagination are beginning to find their way to paper and pixels. Filled with fantasy and love, these tales take her far from the mundane world.
When *lizzie has to return to that mundane life, she’s *the Lunch Lady* at a private school. Happily, those who know *lizzie have become accustomed to her writer’s ways and just shake their heads when she goes off on some fantastical tangent, asks strange what if questions, or just has to find a piece of paper and a pen that actually writes. One of her greatest delights is to watch the joy of writing fill a friend, and she’ll do anything to help them achieve their dream.
And someday, when she grows up, *lizzie wants to be eccentric.