I is for…
Ina
It really had to be, right?
H is for
Husband
Mine is called Mark. He is wonderful, helps proof read, type, suplies an endless stream of pens and paper.
In Scotland he carried my little dog to the top of a castle so she wouldn’t whine for me at the bottom.
He also tested and then described the feelings of every device/machine at the Crannog aswell as making sure I had brilliant, detailed photos.
D is for….
Dreams
So as corny as it sounds that is exactly how it started for me with the Highland Fairling series.
I know people say it countless times but it really is how it all happened. I was at the top of Benmore, admiring the veiw, pretending to be healthy and basically praying my unfit body wouldn’t explode when the daydream of the initial battle came to me.
After that the imagry became the prologue for Book One of the Highland Fairling series and the rest built from there.
C is for Ceci!!
Ceci Giltenan
I actually found this book whilst searching for a factual book concerning the clan Ruthven. I bought it on a whim thinking it would pass an evening at some point.
I owned it for rather a while before attempting to read it.
But after a few pages I was hooked and couldn’t put it down, I have since re-read it about three more times, loving it and the depth of characters that Ceci Giltenan has created more and more each time.
You will be drawn into Katherine and Niall’s love story but you’ll also love the other characters you meet along the way. Little Tomas is very sweet, but I also desperately wanted to know more of Fingall, Tadhg, Turcuil and Father Colm. Maybe one day these characters may feature in more stories? You never know!
A big thank you must be said for Ceci Giltenan for her wonderful, heartfelt story that encompasses love, betrayals, action, adventure and suspense in the highlands of Scotland.
B is for
Brothaigh
On the same line as A, B is for Brothaigh. Alasdair Brothaigh is our hero in Book one of the Highland Fairling series.
Brothaigh is, or at least in some cases is, the older Gaelic version of Brodie. It was the placement of the clan aswell as some of their history that drew me to this clan for my hero.

Alasdair \a-las-dair, al(a)-sdair\ as a boy’s name (also used as girl’s name Alasdair), is pronounced AL-as-dare. It is of Greek origin, and the meaning of Alasdair is “man’s defender“. Scottish Gaelic form of Alexander, often anglicized as Alistair.
Alasdair is the hero in Book one of the Highland Fairlings series.
‘Silence descended as sixteen year old Ina faced him across the stretch of field. He knew that his own burly, growing power made the small lass appear even smaller, and he was confident that his skill would prove the foolishness of allowing a wee lass to compete. And yet he was loathe to harm her.
Servants and warriors alike looked on as a champion of each clan, both descended from laird’s, stood opposite one another. Both lairds looked on in shock and bewilderment at the outcome and then smiled secret smiles. All of this was clear to Alasdair as he looked at a way of ending this humiliating display as quickly and as cleanly as possible. He could not believe that he was expected to battle her.
He was pleasantly shocked at her easy grace and put aside his feelings of being too easy on her. If she truly believed herself to be so great then he was determined to prove otherwise.
Their dancing, light steps were punctuated by loud clangs of weapons striking each other, startled gasps came from the spectators.
But he was the more experienced warrior and the one with greater strength. It was too easy for him to reach out a strong hand and boldly pull the small figure closer to him, his teeth clenched as he moved his heavy blunted blade in defense against her unrelenting attack.
“Yield tay me, fair one.” His voice was soft but in the unnatural stillness of the afternoon the words carried easily.
“Never!”
Wresting herself out of his arms she quickly returned her attack, focusing what must have been all of her power into defeating him.
He intended to make sure that she would be unable to.
With their lunges and strikes growing in intensity, Alasdair finally spotted an opening and quickly forced the lass’ sword from her hand. Unaware any more of their witnesses, he caught her as she stumbled at the impact and instinctively he pulled her soft form tightly into his frame. Pleased surprise coursed through him as the lass’ hidden curves flattened against him and he found himself curiously looking down into her ocean coloured eyes before jerking his head back in disbelief at the sharp pain under his chin.
Pushing away from the triumphantly smiling girl Alasdair placed disbelieving fingers to his tender flesh and studied the small drops of blood that stained them.
He raised his eyes, claiming hers once more and was astounded by the glee he saw there as she raised her small, tightly clenched dirk, his own blood was visible on the blade. Holding her gaze, he easily breached the gap between them. He dropped his weapon to the ground and he used both hands to haul her trembling frame into his tight embrace forcing her head back as he roughly claimed her lips with his, much to the shocked gasps of their witnesses.
With a hand that spanned almost her entire waist moving slowly up her back, he pulled her closer still, deepening the kiss and running his tongue over her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut and unsteady hands came up to clutch at his shoulders as she submitted to his onslaught. With both hands holding tightly to him, her dirk was dropped and forgotten in the power of her first kiss.
Smiling against her lips. Moving his mouth away, he heard the angry approach of both her father and his own. He looked once more into her deep eyes. His smile lifted as the realisation of their situation became clear to her outraged senses. His own dirk was held above her throat, her discarded one was now in his hand and resting above her heart.
Grinning widely, he slid both small weapons into the pocket created by his plaid. Turning away as the two lairds helped the stunned lass to her feet, he called back, “Ye fought well. But ye still be just a lass.”
He laughed at her agitated shriek and continued towards his cheering men.’
I chose the name because I love it. I’ve always been a fan of the name Alexander and that had been my original choice but it just didn’t feel right, somehow. And so it was therefore obvious to me that Alasdair was the right choice!
I’m in the process of typing out edits etc and realising how much harder Ebha’s story has been to complete than I ever thought it would be.
And so in the middle of everything I’ve been neglectful in updates, etc.
Randomly searching the net I came across this:
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/p/what-is-blogging-from-to-z.html
And thought it looked great. Now obviously I can’t really compete as it’s way too late in April for that but I liked the idea so much that I’m going to use it.
So stayed tuned while I run down an A – Z list from the writing I do. Everything will have something to do with my writing, I’ll explain as we go along. Be prepared for spoilers!!
Ebha – Highland Fairlings Book Two
“Damn it all to hell.” Alasdair’s hand slammed heavily onto the blemished table in agitation.
Moving from the heavily carved chair he had been sitting on he quickly approached his spouse before any other could witness her blatant disrepectfulness. Dragging her boldly and harshly from the room and the prying eyes of her clans men he propelled her through hallways and forcing her into the large chamber he had been granted for the duration of his stay.
Spinning her to face him his initial anger faded as he beheld her alluring luscious curves.
“It would please me greatly to view you many times in this dress, “ he hoarsely whispered as he fingered the plunging neckline, “but within the privacy of our own accommodations. I would be pleased to peruse your charms anytime that you wish to present me, and only me, with such a wanton display.”
She let out an agitated noise and crossed her arms angrily across her chest seemingly unaware of the position it raised her tempting breasts to and the threat of the two orbs freeing themselves from the constriction they were laced within.
Unable to withstand what he was being presented with, Farrell reached for her, his fingers deftly untying laces before she could halt his movements. His swift actions and the design of her clothing immediately displayed her curves for his eager perusal.
Ignoring her startled gasp and her attempt to cover herself he gripped both of her wrists within own of his own, lifting her arms above her head and causing the delightful breasts to push further forwards in a most delightful and inciting manner. He moved his eager hand quickly testing the weight and curve of her bountiful breast within his hand, aware of the smooth softness of her flesh compared to the harsh callouses of his battle hardened hands. Holding tightly still to her wrists he forced her to remain his captive despite her futile yet alluring attempts to free herself.