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Romance Readers Book Of The Week
March 06, 2006
ARCHIVED FEATURE
LOVE
NOT FORGOTTEN
Ellen Ashe
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Format:
E-Book
ISBN: 1-58608-722-X
Publisher:
New Concepts Publishing
Buy This Book:
Available at
New Concepts Publishing
FROM THE BACK COVER:
A phantom Highland Clansman, a ghostly
fire, a woman’s scream- tortured spirits that desperately reach
out through time- pleading for redemption. Alex MacTavish and
Kate Daniels must put together the pieces of the violent past
before a malevolent evil tears their lives and love apart.
MEET THE AUTHOR:
Nova
Scotia actually translates to New Scotland. So, living and
working in Britain for ten years felt quite natural. A
teacher, a barmaid, a tour guide, a store clerk- but the
best of all was finding my own true love- tucked away in the
corner of a pub, shyly drinking himself into a stupor. I saw
the possibilities and had him married before he even sobered
up! That was seventeen years ago and we’ve never looked
back! Coming full circle I brought my Celt back to Nova
Scotia, where we live and work. Happily ever after can
happen!
READ AN EXCERPT:
“Hello?”
she called again, louder this time, convinced there
was still too much light of day for ghosts to be out
gallivanting. “Is anybody there?”
The mist swirled to make way for a mass of blackness
that slowly began to materialize. A great oblong
head nodded to a pull of reins, pointed ears
flickered. Kate swept her eyes higher- this rider
definitely had a face- Alexander MacTavish- and that
face was glibly twisted in controlled amusement.
Relief and annoyance struggled for supremacy. She
was beginning to wish ghosts did exist- the prospect
of riding off into eternity with a spirit was
suddenly more preferable than this. Her fists
doubled in anticipation for ridicule. The worse part
of the whole situation was that she likely deserved
the inevitable scolding she was about to receive.
Alexander folded his arms, leaning on the horse’s
mane. The saddle squeaked to the shift in his
weight. “Usually sheep shelter here in bad weather,
but I don’t see virgin wool on ye.” There was
laughter in his voice.
“I can’t imagine any sheep in a thirty mile radius
having virgin wool with the likes of you living
here.”
“Very cocky remarks from a wee lassie lost on the
moors. Perhaps ye want me to just leave ye here
then.” The horse nodded again and rolled bullet eyes
as though enjoying his master’s remark.
“No. I don’t relish the thought of staying out here
any longer. But neither do I want to be assaulted by
you again.”
“I could say the same.” A smirk pressed one corner
of his mouth.
“You deserved that,” Kate said.
“Aye. I suppose I did.”
An awkward silence followed. Alexander straightened.
His suede coat draped over the horse’s sides, the
color melting together, making the two appear as
one. He stroked the mane, soothing a shimmer of
flesh on the animal’s neck.
“Do ye ride?” he asked, not once taking his eyes
from her. “Or do ye want to follow along behind?”
‘And look at two asses instead of one,’ she thought,
but decided it best not to say. No sense annoying
her only hopes of rescue. “I can ride,” she said
confidently.
“I just bet ye can.” His eyes swept over her body.
Kate felt heat rush into her cheeks. “I don’t
appreciate that tone, Mr. MacTavish. I’ll have you
know that…”
With athletic grace he swung a leg over the saddle
and soundlessly hit the ground. “Come on. I’ll help
you up.”
Kate flounced forward, shrugging off assistance. “I
don’t need any help,” she stated with authority. A
massive velvet nose swung, nearly bumping her off
balance, questioning what was happening. Reins held
secure, Kate heaved herself into the saddle.
“Sassy creature, aren’t ye?” Alexander hoisted up in
position behind her with a grace she envied.
Settling comfortably he gently held the rein with
one hand while the other casually wrapped around her
stomach. He issued a short clicking sound and their
journey back began.
Kate immediately relinquished her frustration to the
delicious sensation of the firm chest squeezed into
her back. His posture was so straight and tall she
was certain his bone was made of steel and every
muscle, leather. Warmth from his body permeated into
her shoulders and the hand on her stomach radiated a
small pool of heat that fluttered through her waist.
Safety. Security. Slowly she began to relax.
Besides the dense mist and the horse’s bobbing head
there was nothing to look at. The quiet demanded to
be broken. She searched for something to say.
Embarrassed by their required intimacy, she blurted,
“How did you find me?”
“Yer sister said ye followed the trail. She asked me
to look for ye.”
Kate closed her eyes to the smooth breath on her
neck. Fine hairs fluttered in response. Suppressing
the urge to scratch the tickle she wiggled her
shoulder. Automatically his arm tightened. “Oh,” she
mumbled, unconscious that her hand had suddenly
clasped his, until a finger flinched. “Oh,” she
started again. “Sorry.” She wrenched her hand away.
“I don’t mind,” he whispered into her ear, his voice
feathery and suggestive.
“You must spend a lot of time out on these moors,”
she garbled, desperately trying to find a sober
topic to calm her sudden dizziness. “I mean- I can’t
see a thing. How do you know we’re going in the
right direction?”
“Instinct.”
How appropriate, she mused. All creatures relied
heavily on instinct. She had to keep reminding
herself he was arrogant and rude and…
The chest behind her expanded, inching her slightly
forward giving the distinct impression he was going
to say something. The expectancy of breath on her
skin, she tilted her head to welcome the pleasurable
sensation. A short expulsion indicated a puff of
laugher. She didn’t have to see his expression to
know he was teasing her.
She stiffened. “Mr. MacTavish,” she scolded, as
demurely as possible. She did, after all, want to
get safely home without enraging her host.
“Alex,” he purred. “My name is Alex.” His shoulders
slumped, his chin brushing her neck.
“Mr. MacTavish,” she
repeated. “I don’t know what opinion you have of me, but I
do not appreciate unwelcome gestures, regardless at how
intimate this situation may seem at the moment.”
“Stop yer caterwauling, woman,” he laughed. “Yer enjoying
this as much as I am. I wouldna doubt ye got lost on
purpose.”
Kate’s fists clenched in frustration. She was enjoying this,
but she didn’t want him to know it. Nor should he flatter
himself. “Look,” she shivered, “This is a necessary evil,
one I’ll tolerate. I did not intend on getting lost and I
certainly don’t make a habit of roaming about all hours of
the day or night like you do.” Words spit from a gut
seething to a growing anger. “I saw you this morning. What
the hell were you celebrating anyway, or were you just
trying to scare me off pretending to be a ghost?”
Leather thighs instantly thickened and the horse immediately
obeyed its command to stop. The chest swelled and Kate
shuddered to his quick intake of air. “What did ye say?”
Fingers that had been gentle and kind now dug into her
clothes with tension.
Kate glanced over her shoulder to see his wide eyes glaring
into her. Vulnerable and unnerved by his change in attitude,
she shivered bravely, “You heard.”
Alex swung off the horse. Her balance wavered to the sudden
movement and she automatically gripped the saddle to steady
herself. Dark eyes peered up at her- fear hovered behind
each searching pit. “Tell me again. What did ye see?” He
leaned into her leg, holding both her and the horse in
place.
“I saw you, forcing this poor animal to race across the
moor.” She stroked its mane in sympathy.
“Did ye see the face?” His expression stern and serious,
Kate wanted to giggle at his charade. He was joking, wasn’t
he?
“As a matter of fact, no I didn’t. But I know it was you.
Where you wearing a mask?”
A cloud, thicker than the mist around them, had descended on
Alex. He whirled around and she was certain he was going to
walk off into the fog. “Dear God,” he mumbled. “He’s come
back.” Turning to face her she saw amazement, and a new
respect, in his face as well as hearing it in his voice.
“And YE saw him?”
“Who? What are you trying to pull now?” This guy is a real
actor, she decided, the sort of stuff from which academy
performances are won.
“Tell me again what ye saw, please. Every detail, no matter
how unusual.”
The request was sincere and it shocked her. But she relayed
waking early without mentioning the dream, glancing out the
window to see the movement, the sounds of the horse, the
rider’s desperation, and the disappearance at the edge of
the garden. Telling the whole story now, here, to the man
whom she thought was guilty, and having him hang on her
every word as though it were all a revelation to him, left
goose bumps over her flesh. “I saw the hoof prints on the
path,” she concluded. It was her last hold on reality. “If
it wasn’t you then who?”
After a sharp stabbing nod of resignation Alex’s chest
heaved and using a rush of damp air to fill his lungs he
sprang into the saddle resuming the spot behind her. He
nestled comfortably, shifting her in accordance, and she
braced herself in position waiting for the horse’s lumbering
walk to begin.
“Well,” she demanded again, this time to the horse’s shaking
mane. “Whom are you referring to?”
“His name is Dougal. Dougal MacTamhais.”
“Oh? A friend of yours or a relative?”
After a short pause Alex answered, his voice low and
humorless, denoting a hesitancy to continue the
conversation. “Both.”
A ripple of reins prompted the horse to move. The edge of
the garden was now only a minute away, and Alex spoke no
more.