Welcome Cathy McRae Talking About The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride

Shortly after joining Soul Mate Publishing, I met Cathy McRae. She's here to talk about her new book The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride, which is Book 3 in The Highlander’s Bride series. Check out this beautiful cover.

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Cathy enjoys weaving tales of romance in the Highland mists. Her stories feature strong heroes and feisty heroines in pursuit of their happy-ever-afters in medieval Scotland. 

When not writing, Cathy can be found curled up in a chair with a book or enjoying the outdoors with her corgis and newest member of the family, Freki. A member of RWA and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, she is currently working on another Highland romance novel and planning her next trip to Scotland.

Set in the Highlands of Scotland in the late 1300’s, The Highlander’s Tempestuous Bride brings together two young people from different clans who risk everything for a chance to love.

Returning home after a ten-year absence, Ryan Macraig falls for a fiery, red-haired lass from the wrong side of the firth. He can’t ignore his need to see her again, even knowing she must be a hated Macrory. Gilda Macrory trespasses Macraig land, but haunting memories of the young man she once met there draw her to the forbidden place. Learning he is Laird Macraig’s son threatens her dreams, for her father would never agree to a marriage between his daughter and their enemy’s son.
With pirates raiding the coast, bad blood between the Macraig and Macrory clans could cost Ryan and Gilda their love—and their lives.

Here's an excerpt:

Even in the moonlight, Ryan saw the deepening shade on her cheeks and knew she blushed.
She lifted her chin. “Ye ogled my legs!”
Ryan nodded his head in agreement. “Ye have verra pretty legs.”
Gilda drew back with a hiss of breath. “Ye are a rogue, Ryan Macraig!”
“We have already agreed on this, aye?”
“This meeting tonight ‘twas for the clansmen to decide what to do about the pirates, not for ye to seek me out in my home.” Gilda crossed her arms beneath her breasts, shoving them to the squared neckline.
Ryan mumbled the first response that came to his suddenly awkward tongue. “I dinnae know ye would be here.” His tone remained reasonable even as he fought the dryness in his mouth.
“Dinnae stare at me like that.” Gilda dropped her hands as she spun away, and Ryan’s concentration returned with a snap.
“I dinnae know how to act around ye, Gilda Macrory. I know our parents are nae likely to agree for us to meet, but I am willing to ask. To do this right.”
Gilda slowly turned, lifting her gaze to his. “To do what right?”
“To talk to ye. Listen to ye laugh. Watch yer eyes change color when I vex ye.”
Gilda’s quick grin told him he’d scored a point and he smiled. “I am good at vexing ye, aye?”
“Aye.” Her expression remained puzzled. “Do ye like to be around me? No’ just to ogle my legs?”
This time Ryan laughed. “I will ogle yer legs any chance I get. I cannae lie to ye. But, aye. I like being around ye.”

* * *

Wow, that sounds like a great read. I love the way you've woven the accent into the dialogue. I know how difficult that can be--especially when you're editing! Thanks for stopping by.

Check out Cathy's website for information about the two other books in the series that look pretty interesting to me, updates, writing and author posts, and her thoughts on gardening and dogs. You can also follow her on Facebook.  She would love to hear from you!

The Widow's Walk Has Been Published

It's here! The Kindle edition is out now, and the print version will be forthcoming in the next couple of months.

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Mike and Liz Keeny are newlyweds, new parents, and the proprietors of the Barrett Inn, an 1875 Victorian on Cape Cod, which just happens to be haunted. By their own ghosts. The Inn had become an annex of Purgatory, putting Mike, Liz, and their infant son in danger. Selling the historic seaside bed and breakfast was the only answer, one that Liz and her own tortured specter refused to consider. Were Mike and Liz doomed to follow the same path that led to disaster in their previous lives? Was getting out, getting away, enough?


Check out Andrew Richardson's preview/review.

I've created a special page right here on Blogger to keep in touch with readers. In addition. Soulmate Publishing has created an author page as well.

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Some Thoughts on the Eve of the Publication of The Widow's Walk

Now that I have finished the final edits on The Widow's Walk (and my doctoral paper, but that is another story), I have time to sit and think back on all the people who've helped me get this novel--and the entire series--launched.

I started writing Unfinished Business as short story back in 2006! While opening up a summer cottage, pulling off dust covers and vacuuming up dead flies, the inspiration for a story about a woman finding a trunk of antique clothes and the aftermath came to me. Two days later, the story was done. I missed all the Fourth of July festivities, and my husband was really pissed. But as all writers know, when you've got the inspiration you've got to go with it. So, that's the first thank you. John has read every draft of both Breakwater Beach (the novelized version of the Book 1) and of The Widow's Walk. 

It took until 2011 to find an editor, by the name of Rayne Hall, who was willing to publish Breakwater Beach as a novelette. She'd been working me on it since 2007 as the moderator of the Professional Author's Group, and the stars converged. Thank you, Rayne, for a wonderful Christmas present that year.

But before I got to that point, there was Barbara Gordon, at Anticipation Workshops in 2009, who took the time to help me get both the historical and British details correct. And Andrew Richardson, my critique partner since 2005, who has also read just about every piece of fiction I have ever written, if not all of it. It was a thrill to meet him and his lovely wife, Emma, on my trip to England this summer for LonCon.

Breakwater Beach is Liz's story, The Widow's Walk is Mike Keeny's story. As such, the input of male writers is critical to avoid mistakes like a seaman marveling over the details of a Victorian gown. Nope, they'd be more interested in cleavage than the emerald green slubbed silk, bustled high in the back, with matching shoes. Thank you, John Blackport for many such insights. And for your unending exuberance about The Widow's Walk. I will never forget your last comment: "If all romance was like this I'd read a lot more of it."

Going even further back there is Oliver Waite, who helped me sink the boat in Breakwater Beach. A racing sailor, he was able to enhance that scene as I could never do. Despite the fact that I grew up on and around all types of boats, I was never on one that sank.

I owe my love of the sea, of sailing, and of Cape Cod to my father, Frank Moleti, with whom I spent many days on the waters of Long Island Sound and on Cape Cod. There was that  particularly memorable Whale Watch out of Provincetown that was so rough, even he--US Navy veteran--had white knuckles and was looking for the life jackets. I wish you were still alive to share this with me, Daddy. You too, Gramps. Alexander Bruno was the captain of The Sea Mist, a wooden cabin cruiser that my mother was on while pregnant with me. And from which my Uncle Mickey tossed me into Long Island Sound off Half Moon Beach at age 4-without a life jacket--since I needed to learn to swim.

They're all gone now, looking down on me, I fancy, very proud as they always were of the first born daughter, grand daughter and niece who they assured every day of my childhood that I was going to go far in life. I learned to be strong, and brave, and independent at a time when all girl were supposed to be playing with were Barbie dolls. If you knew them as I did, you'd be able to see a little of each in the male characters. And Liz and Mae don't take no shit from no one. For that, I credit growing up in The Bronx (but that also is another story).

Frank Moleti on the Seamist II
circa 1980

I just came in first in a swimming race, about age 12.