Sky is the best-selling author of seven novels and several novellas. A New Englander born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend. When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.
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The MacLomain Series- Early Years
Genre: Time-travel Highlander Romance
Number of pages: 180
Word Count: 61 K
Cover Artist: Tamra Westberry
Iosbail MacLomain will do whatever it takes to bring Laird Alexander Sinclair to his knees. Even if it means she has to travel through time to eleventh century Scotland and manipulate a king into marrying her off to the enemy.
What she doesn't anticipate is a bitter rivalry between King Edgar and Alexander Sinclair. It seems the man she just married is by birthright a threat to the throne. Her plans are suddenly hindered when she and her new husband are almost murdered.
Their lives on the line, Alexander and Iosbail are forced to flee across the country. Fraught with risk, adventure and wild, unexpected desire they struggle against overwhelming odds. Only on MacLomain land does justice stand a chance.
Will a true king find shelter so far from his homeland? Can a woman set out for vengeance forgive deeds done wrong?
Better yet, can enemies persuade one another to forgive and perhaps even love?
Find out in a powerful story that leaves no soul untouched... HIGHLAND PERSUASION.
Despite protocol, Alexander’s eyes slid from the king to the lass. While his senses slightly registered that she wore a Broun plaid, they were far too consumed with the rest of her to be rightfully infuriated.
Long and thick, blue-black hair flowed around a figure so alluring it was sinful. When she sauntered his way, Alexander stood straighter, reared up some might say, almost as though he were a wild horse first meeting she who would master him.
He did not like the feeling.
When she stopped before him, Alexander reached for the sword at his side only to realize it wasn’t there. Forced to meet her blazing sky blue eyes and exquisite face, he said not the proper thing but, “You came to steal my soul.”
While clearly she’d been poised to say something haughty her expression wavered—as if as confused as him—but she quickly regained her composure. “I am Iosbail Broun, she who is to be your wife.”
Despite the fact his king watched and tradition said he bow, Alexander did not. Instead he took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips where he made a point of giving it a cherished kiss. His eyes stayed locked with hers. Soft, so that it’d be barely heard, he said, “In name only will you ever be my wife.”
Not fazed by his rudeness, she offered a small smile; thick black lashes lowered, full pink lips curled slightly. With a whisper light word she said, “Sinclair.”
It was if she tasted his name for the first time.
Alexander wanted to catch the single word and hold it against his heart.
Mortified, well aware the Devil was at work, he squeezed her hand a little too harshly. Iosbail’s eyes rounded. He lowered his head but never removed his gaze from hers.
‘Twas all that needed to be said between them.
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