Diary, 1st of August, anno Domini 1547: Lady Peigi Grant.
I’m excited to travel to Lughnasadh, and the Royal Inverness Games! But nay for the festivities you might think would be diverting. Nay, I’m not much for fanfare. I’ve seen darkness like none other and buried it in my heart for years. I once set an outlawed laddie—accused of murdering our sire—free, after bearing witness to the dark deed and he was most certainly nay the one to lift his blade. We shared a kiss. A bond. A blessing made on Samhain, and to this day I wonder where he went after years’-long manhunts proved fruitless to find him. No, I’d rather play my lyre in the seclusion of a hidden grove instead of endure celebratory festivals, of folk imbibing too much and caring too little about the injustices of the world. And the competitions! Truly, only an opportunity for men to flex muscles and brag about their prowess with a sword in hopes of enticing a woman to lift her skirts for them.
I am excited to see my wee sister, who married our clan’s greatest enemy this Yuletide past, for she is growing heavy with child and will need me. And believe it or nay, very much in love with her Highland devil. We’re nay in Inverness Proper, but about one hour’s ride by horse to the east at the edge of the Cairngorms, mountains velvety green and blossoming with wildflowers. Colorful buntings, clan pennants, and every color of kilt imaginable have descended on Laird Rose’s Kilravock Castle for horse racing, in which a lady actually beat all the men! Bonfire dancing, games of chess or tafl growing heated by the tavern tent, the corn-cutting… It’s lively and loud.
Diary, 2nd of August, anno Domini 1547: Lady Peigi Grant
The excitement of seeing my sister has been tainted with a dark shroud. Lughnasadh is a time for handfasts and bartering among clans. My oldest brother has come to barter…me. He has mostly repaid his debts, meaning I finally have a dowry worth something. He is interviewing suitors, and while he sends each horrid choice away at my show of panic, he is still determined to make a match. And so, I’ve packed my lyre and hurried away to a greenwood, away from the crowds and the men who stare. Away from the cocksure renegade who bears a tattoo upon his arm, who has just won the projectile throw and is currently preening for the ladies with his bawdy waggles of the eye whilst taunting his competitors, for he was much too easy upon mine eyes.
Except, sakes! The rogue found me as if my lyre has called to him! And not only has he forced me to face fears of the past, but…dare I say, is sweeter than he presents himself in public? I was playing an olden lullaby, from a book gifted to me years ago, and he…harmonized on a bone flute, the clearest melody as if he knew the obscure music, a haunting sound, that prickles my skin with gooseflesh of knowing and goodness, how his emerald eyes sparkle with secrets and hidden longing that feels so…familiar. He looks penniless! A hired sword through and through if that war scythe strapped to his back indicates anything, ink-stained fingers he says he has earned by studying law, and though he teases me, he awakens in me a need to know him, a need to bond myself to him…
Diary, 30th of October, anno Domini 1547: Lady Peigi Grant
I have been quiet for some time, for Samhain is now upon us. That dowry I mentioned? None other than Castle Freuchie, in the remote lands along the River Spey, surrounded by woodland and olden standing stones in the fallow hay fields. The folk here hate my brother and by extension, me. That outlawed laddie so long ago? This was his birthright, and no one here has forgotten how my clan has stolen it. But what is worse, is that the rogue this summer, who stole my heart and… Sakes, I can nay believe I trusted him! We were to elope. It was so swift and sudden, but I loved him…until he left me at the proverbial altar and never looked back, ruined.
Now here I am, the prize to be won in a marriage tourney, upon a pedestal! Ten men are competing for my handfast and this castle and lands as my dowry, and nine of their places have already been filled. Soul Mass is upon us, when fourteen years ago I kissed that laddie and set him free. The castle is bedecked in corn dolls and carved turnips. Harvest food fills the great hall with delicious scents, and the traditions of Samhain or as some call it, All Hallows Eve, are set to be celebrated with a wild hunt and tournament games. And I feel that gooseflesh, that ripple of fate or the fabrics of time, as the tenth competitor enters the hall to reveal himself…none other than the rogue this summer past! His heart seems full of vengeance. His war scythe menacing. He is no longer the sweet man in a greenwood playing his bone flute, who even then seemed strangely familiar. And the way he looks at this castle, and at me, as if he has a claim to stake…
They took everything. Now he’s come back to claim it—and her—in this broodingly intense and sexy Highlander romance that will delight fans of Karen Marie Moning and Lynsay Sands.
When she was just a lass, Peigi Grant attended a wedding—one that quickly turned into a night of bloodshed and grief. Through it all, there were whispers of the Comyn heir, a boy accused of the crime, who mysteriously disappeared.
Now it’s fourteen years later, and Peigi’s never breathed a word to a soul about that fateful night…or her role in helping the boy escape. But she never would have dared imagine that sweet boy turning into a roguish warrior who could shatter her heart and her reputation.
Alexander is drawn to Peigi by her clear, sweet voice. Her loveliness—along with an uncanny sensation of fate—tempts him to lay down his war scythe forever. But his clan, his lands, and his very birthright were stolen by the Grant clan…and vengeance still calls to him.
They don’t know his true name. But the Grants will come to fear his wrath…even if it destroys the one person who could tame his wild, Highlander heart.
Outlaw Ever After is an intoxicating, enemies-to-lovers romance between two people fated to fall for each other…even if it sets all of Scotland ablaze.
Romance Historical [Entangled Publishing, On Sale: September 8, 2025, e-Book, / eISBN: 9781649376282]
Elizabeth is convinced life is better with good coffee, chocolate, and a pair of hiking boots. Ever since her elementary school librarian “published” her epic childhood tales--complete with handmade covers--she’s enjoyed writing. She loves exploring history through literature, and the world through hiking. While studying prehistoric Britain at Newcastle University and roaming castle ruins and Hadrian’s Wall with her kids, Elizabeth found story inspiration in the tumultuous history of the British Isles and the folklore of Scotland.
A recovering archaeologist and biomed research coordinator, Elizabeth is known for her Ladies of Scotland series, as well as her HEA at USA TODAY-recommended Christmas Wore Plaid. She spends her days penning rugged heroes draped in tartan and chain mail, and the willful heroines who ensnare their hearts. She currently lives on a mountainside in West Virginia with her husband, sons, and various pets. Because she’s always honored to hear from readers, make sure to follow her on Facebook, Bookbub, Twitter, Goodreads, and Instagram.
No comments posted.
© 2003-2026