Castle Lachlan in the background.

The full moon above.

Linette's gruff warrior prepares to defend her. 

Her destiny promises pain.

Scorned as the witch’s apprentice since she was orphaned, without a name, on the day of her birth, LINETTE dreams of working beside people who love her in a place where she belongs.  Because of a prophetic vision, Linette expects to die at the hand of a stranger.  She accepts her fate and strives to face her dark destiny without endangering anyone else.

His destiny promises struggle. 

GARRIC MACLACHLAN, a taciturn Highland warrior, fosters his reputation as an unfeeling brute to ward off those who would destroy the life and family he values.  He believes he controls his fate until a Englishman viciously tortures his brother. 

By the light of a full moon, Garric watches as Linette mercifully ends his brother’s life.  He cannot condemn her for her mercy, yet he cannot speak his forgiveness.  When his father questions Linette’s identity, Garric claims her as his captive.  When given the choice, Garric weds Linette to protect her.  As Garric battles to hide his affection for his courageous bride, he must also conceal her part in the death of his brother and defend himself against the claims of an Englishman that Garric destroyed English property, violating the fragile peace.

Their destiny promises passion. 

Linette vows to seek absolution for her sin and make her place secure in Garric’s home even if she can't claim his unforgiving heart.  Garric pledges to protect her but never reveal his love.  Between battles for survival and nights of passion, they search for a way to disprove the Englishman’s claims before he destroys the MacLachlan clan and separates the lovers forever.

Together, they share DESTINY’S PROMISE. 

Excerpt from

Destiny's Promise

CHAPTER ONE

Linette ignored the discussion of the Scots’ long journey and set two trenchers on the table, then bent over the kettle to serve her own meal.  Once more the door opened to admit the frigid wind.  The stranger who had remained in the shadows stomped mud from his boots and stepped inside.    

Brothers.  Chiseled noses and square chins bore witness to their shared ancestry.  Linette relaxed at the sight of his pitch-black hair threaded with silver and white.  Not flaming red—his appearance didn’t match Ada’s vision of her future.  Long, thick waves framed a face much younger than his hair color suggested, but the steel in his jaw hinted at a soul aged in fire. 

She likened him to the majestic mountains reaching for the distant sky.  Overwhelming strength, bold cuts of bone and sinew, rigid power.  He would stand in a place of his choosing and dare the world to move him.  In his shadow, even the weakest coward would feel secure.   

In contrast to the brutish mountain, any man would have paled.  Even so, Garric bowed to Morif, demonstrating his allegiance. 

She bumped the bench.  His eyes raked her, causing a momentary panic so disturbing she thought her heart would cease to beat.  Bold green eyes beneath ash colored brows flashed with insolence.  He did not speak, but he met her gaze with a steady stare.  Her face heated under his scrutiny, yet there was no fear.  His eyes were watchful, not predatory—confident, not intimidating.  His lack of reaction didn’t hide the truth—he had noticed her.

“Will you pass the night on English soil?”  He spoke to his brother in a voice familiar with command: clear, deep and sure. 

“Nay,” Morif answered.  “But we will share this hearty stew with pleasant company before we depart.”  Morif’s gentle voice and friendly words inspired trust, but Lord Mauvais had warned her to be wary of any man who sought his daughter.  Her father had gone to great trouble to keep her hidden. 

Only caution would prevent Lord Mauvais’ nephew from discovering her identity.  If Ranard learned the truth and used her to claim the holding, he would starve the village to pay for his soldier’s loyalty.  It would be better to leave the choice of who would master their lives to their king, for no man would choose to reward Ranard Mauvais.

Garric remained between his chieftain and the opening.  His presence robbed the chamber of air.  He can’t think Ada would harm his brother.  She shook her head in denial.  No.   Then why did he stand there as if he expected a threat? 

A man of such stature did not survive without his wits.  He would have surveyed the keep and learned their master’s death had left them unprotected for a very long time.  He had caught her in a lie. 

Ada cocked her head and stared at the warrior.  “Do they still pain you?”

            The chieftain’s brother did not acknowledge the question. 

Morif smiled.  “What are you asking, healer?”

            “His ears.  Does not speak.  Acts as if he doesn’t hear when he is asked a question he’d rather ignore.  It’s common enough for children to have pain in the ears and trouble hearing.  When the family excuses rudeness, blaming it on the affliction, the child makes silence a habit.”

            Morif nodded slowly.  “Garric’s ears did cause him difficulty as a boy, but no longer.”

            While they discussed the warrior, Linette noticed that he studied the cottage, as if he was unaware of their conversation.  She waited for him to deny the healers assumption, wondered if he had suffered as a child, if he suffered still.   He met her gaze and glared in return.  She held her chin up, though her knees felt like water. 

Garric shifted his stance.  “I’ll walk the perimeter.”  He departed, leaving a hushed void in his absence.  If such a man stood between her and her destiny, she might survive. 

All images and writings copyright 2006  Sheila-Rae Z. Mohs  Last Updated 12/30/07

Awards

2nd Place ~ 2005 Tampa Area Romance Authors~TARA