Kindle Edition Amazon Tricia McGill Australian Author Tricia McGill at Books We Love Category:  Romance Publisher: Books We Love Ltd. Pages: 142 Copyright: Nov 12,2014 ISBN-13: 9781771453417 Price: $4.95 (eBook) Australian Andrew reluctantly answers a plea to visit his ailing uncle in Scotland. His PA, Liz, persuades him to take her along. In the dilapidated castle, while exploring an attic, they set off a course of events that propel them back in time to 1050 where they meet The Laird. Andrew, a wealthy Australian architect, takes life too seriously, whereas his PA Elizabeth is outgoing and fun-loving; a perfect foil for her sombre boss. She is passionate about Celtic lore and language. With great reluctance Andrew answers a plea from his two elderly aunts to travel to Scotland before his uncle dies. He has no desire to visit the land his father left under a cloud many years ago, but Liz persuades him to take her along. In the draughty and dilapidated castle, while exploring a disused attic, the pair set off a course of events that propel them back in time to 1050 where they meet Travis, coincidentally Andrew's double. This book was previously published as White Clover. Excerpt "Guess this must lead to the part of the house that looks like the original bit. This house is like a maze. I wonder where those little turrets with the curved windows are. They must be up this way somewhere." Liz shivered in expectation. "Cold?" Andrew ran his hands up and down her upper arms. "No, just excited at the prospect of what we might find up here." She strove to ignore the thrill that trembled through her at his touch. Even through the thickness of her sweater she could feel the warmth from his hands. "This reminds me of a time when I was a kid. We went to visit an old aunt of my mother's and she swore her house was haunted." "You're the only woman I know who gets excited about the prospect of meeting a ghost." At the top of the staircase a narrow door blocked their way. Liz tried the rusted handle. "I can't turn this." "Here, let me try," Andrew offered. She glanced over her shoulder. There was barely room for the two of them to turn in the small space. "Come on, back down a bit." He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her. For a moment more than seemed necessary he kept his hold on her as he lowered her slowly to the lower stair. Her face was on a level with his chest, as he said, with a strange gruffness in his voice, "You're as light as a bag of feathers." Liz bent her head as he turned his attention to the door. A stupid blush rushed to her face, and his very masculine smell surrounded her, mingling with her own perfume; a heady mixture. He seemed oblivious to her moment of confusion and awareness. "There, that's done it." The door creaked on its hinges as it swung inwards. Andrew stepped up the last stair and turned to offer Liz a hand, letting go once she'd joined him. The door opened into a large room, and at the far side was another small staircase. At its top yet another door swung open with a squeak and a groan, and Andrew led the way into a dim room where a small amount of light filtered in from one small filthy window high up on the wall. "This isn't a turret." Disappointed, Liz brushed a cobweb from her cheek. "It's as filthy as hell in here." Andrew sneezed as they stood side by side, peering into the gloom. "I suppose there's a light switch somewhere." His arm brushed her breasts as he ran his fingers up and down the wall. Liz jumped as if scalded. "You're very touchy today." His tone, as smooth as melted honey, sent feathery shivers right up to her nape. "Aha, here it is." He flicked a switch and the attic was illuminated by a single light bulb hanging from one of the beams. "At least there's a light, such as it is. This place is like something out of the Dark Ages." As her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness Liz looked around. Cobwebs festooned the room and inches of dust covered every surface. Great oak beams sloped down to one side of the room. Dust motes floated in the dim light. They sneezed simultaneously and laughed as they both said, "Bless you." "Hey, there's four trunks here." Liz knocked cobwebs out of the way as she went over to the huge metal-bound containers. She tried the rusted lock of the nearest one. "Damn—it's locked. We'll have to ask your uncle or aunts if they know where the key is. What do you suppose could be in it? I wonder if there are any old diaries, books or ledgers." Trying the next one to find the lid lifted a fraction, she cried eagerly, "Look, this one's open." "Here, let me." Andrew gently pushed her aside. After a small struggle he managed to force the lid up. "It's full of old rags." He brushed his palms together as Liz blew at the dust and cobwebs around the inside of the lid. "Rags," she snorted, picking up the top article. It was a plaid scarf. Rummaging about beneath a layer of yellowed tissue paper, she cried, "This, sir, is a set of highland dress. Look here's a kilt. It's magnificent." Holding it aloft, she shook it, sending dust flying, which set them both sneezing again. "It's in your clan colors too. Don't you just love this green and red plaid? Try it on." She held it in front of him. "Like hell I will." He turned away. "You haven't an ounce of romance in your whole body." With a click of the tongue, she bent to sort through the clothing again, producing a black jacket with gilt buttons, then a sporran. "Look at this." "I can be as romantic as the next man," he assured her, "but my idea of romance isn't tied up with wearing a dirty old kilt that reeks of mothballs and dust." "You can put it on over your trousers. You don't have to strip off. Come on, just slip it around your waist." Before he could stop her she wrapped it about him and did the front fastening up. "Go and look in that mirror." She gave him a gentle push then wiped a piece of rag over the mottled cheval mirror standing in a corner. "See how proud and Scottish you look. Why, if your hair was longer you'd be the image of old Travis in the portrait downstairs." Liz bit her lip. She'd revealed too much, after her declarations about how handsome she thought Travis. Before he could see her telltale blush in the half-light, she quickly bent over the trunk again. "Here's a funny sort of cape. It looks like it's made of animal hide." Liz forgot her dismay as she lifted her find, struggling to give it a shake. Its rolled collar ended in a tag caught together by a clasp. "It sure is heavy. I don't recall ever reading about anything quite like this. And I've never seen a picture of one of these cloaks. Have you, Andrew?" So engrossed was she in her find that only when it was out of her mouth did she realize she'd used his name. That was something she never did around the office. He peered at it. Any other man wearing a kilt over a pair of trousers would look ridiculous, but not Andrew. Because they'd been feeling the cold, they'd gone into Stirling yesterday to buy warmer clothing. He now wore his new fleecy work shirt under a warm Shetland sweater, and a pair of heavy leather walking boots with thick woolen socks folded over their tops. Liz loved her new ankle-length tartan wool skirt. Her black tights, calf-high suede leather boots, chunky red sweater, and plaid shawl matching her skirt sure kept out the chill that was really foreign to them. "Try it on, it's got a funny looking sort of brooch clipped at the front," she said, touching the two inch by four inch sheet of flattened metal. There was an inscription on it. "What does it say?" Andrew asked, leaning over as she took it nearer the light bulb and rubbed at it with the scrap of cloth. "Translated it says: 'Commit thy work to God'. Hey, that's your family motto. I saw it on one of the portraits downstairs. And this squiggle about the edges must be a wild heather, the same plant as on your family crest. Put it on, boss." Liz struggled to lift the cloak. She was average height but it was still a long way up to his broad shoulders. "This thing's sure heavy." "Steady on." Andrew took a step back and grabbed at her arm as she fell against him. He managed to pull the cloak in place with one hand and hold her steady with the other. "You're not kidding. It's heavy all right." Liz clung to his upper arms, and the strange clasp pressed against her breasts. She was hit with the oddest sensation—as if it was branding her. The floor shuddered violently beneath them, sending vibrations up her legs. A draught of ice-cold air whirled about them. "Did you feel the earth move?" His tone was gently mocking, and Liz buried her face against his sweater, shivering. Wrinkling her nose at the smell coming from the pelt she whispered, scared, "Actually I did. I thought it was my imagination. Do they have earthquakes in Scotland?" "I'm not sure." Liz barely heard him, for a strange buzzing filled the air, and she felt as if her eardrums were going to explode as everything about them seemed to vibrate and shudder. Wrapping her arms about his middle, she screamed, the noise burbling from her throat. Then the light went out.

Marlene FAR 4 ˝ angels
“I enjoyed every minute of this book. Tricia McGill perfectly pulls the reader back in time along with Andrew and Liz, describing the castle and its inhabitants in such detail they fully come to life. Andrew’s aunts, Tilda and Kitty, are gems whose unsolicited advice made me laugh out loud! The dialogue in this story is one of its strongest features, and coupled with an intriguing plot it is a winning combination.”

Deborah Brent for Romantic Times
“This is a remarkable book, and Ms. McGill is an outstanding writer. There is
rich historical detail of everyday medieval life, and characters who stepped
right out of the annuls of history. I love time travel books, and this one
is exceptional.”


A. Dee Carey/ Fantasy Novelist
"This Highland tale has all the majesty of a historical and all the magic of a time travel. However this Scottish pair transcends the centuries in a way sure to surprise the reader. The heroine is a strong capable woman, one of many skills. The hero is equally strong and I imagine even has good legs as he is reputed to look dashing in a kilt. My pleasure in reading this tale opened my visions as I allowed myself to be swept to the Scottish highlands. This is a story that takes you away from the daily mundane and embraces you in a far past time."