Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 8504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 43(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 28(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 43(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 28(@300wpm)
Daracha Brodie has watched her people die and dwindle down to just her sister and herself. She's gentle with so much to give. When her sister leaves the relative safety of Cadleigh Keep, she never expects the savage war chief of the Stewart Clan to appear in her chambers like magic. Imagine being snowed in with the devilishly handsome beast who craves you just as much as you crave him. What's a lass to do?
My Savage Laird is Book Two in The Sexy Stewart's series written with Rachelle Stevensen. Come join them in the Scottish Highlands just as summer kicks off here. Between the pages, winter is wielding her magic while these couples fall in love. Dinna fash , this series is safe; you do know Rachelle & M.K., right? It's also scorching hot abundant with virgins and instalove. Gaol gu bràth.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
CULLODEN STEWART
SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS
1680
Once again, I’ve woken up from a dead sleep, remembering. The nightmares ne’er cease. Every time I close my eyes, they follow. I sleep just enough to survive; anything more would kill me. I will ne’er forget the way my mama looked when we found her. Blood pooled at her chest, and her once vibrant blue eyes were lifeless. As a wee lad, it tortured me. As a grown man, it haunts me. What the Duncan clan did to us didnae go unpunished. My father went to the ends of the earth to eradicate them, and when he did, he finally succumbed to his broken heart when he thought Callum was ready. When Callum became laird, I took over the vengeance business.
That fateful night nineteen years ago, my brother, older by mere minutes, took it upon himself to save me. I shall forever be in his debt. He is scarred because of me, and naething I could ever do will repay that debt. Therefore, anything he asks of me is done without question or hesitation, except for this one time. I’ve been his war chief and the captain of his guard for years now, but He is finally called me home, and I will go as soon as I have Bruce Duncan’s head. He is the brother of the laird who ordered the attack on our lands. We have left none alive, but I am afraid they have done more damage than we ken about. We havenae seen a Brodie, our neighbors to the east, in quite a while, nor has anyone in Holyrood, the closest village outside of clan lands.
It’s taken me two weeks, but my intel tells me that the Duncan is holed up in the dilapidated heap that used to be the castle in front of me. My men are nearby, but ken to stay back. They all lost family in the massacre, but they trust that I will end this.
Inside the keep, I find him easily enough. He is all alone in the great hall, eating a small feast. Fucking animal. I knew he would be older than he was twenty years ago, but I was not expecting him to be this old. It gives me pause. Can I really kill an old man? When he opens his mouth to speak, I ken that I can. He is the worst, and the world will be a better place without him in it.
“So, my time has come, eh Stewart. I’ve been waiting for this day for nineteen years. I thought it would be yer father or yer brother. Ne’er thought it would be ye. Ye were a sniveling little boy until we came.” His harsh words mean naething to me. I ken who I was then and who I am now.
“No, Duncan. I shall let ye live,” I reply, though I know that isnae the truth.
“Always a mistake, Stewart. Didnae yer father teach ye anything?” he asks, laughing. Bits of food hang in his disheveled beard, and his teeth are both yellow and black in places. The man has seen better days, or perhaps the Duncan’s were always an unclean people.
“He taught me well, old man. Keep that in mind.”
“Ne’er leave a loose end. We should have found ye boys and ended yer lives before ye had a chance to sire any children. I am sure the Stewart lands are boiling over with yer bastards by now.” I dinnae bother to correct him. He doesnae need to ken all Stewart men ken the woman they are going to marry on sight. If a woman isnae her, then I willnae waste my time or my seed on the wrong girl. That’s not to say I willnae ken what ta do with the lass when I find her.
I should have kenned better. I should have kenned he would try something deceitful, but I didnae. Now his knife is deeply embedded in the meatiest part of my thigh. I’ve been in many battles, and this willnae be my last wound, but it hurts like naething else ever has. Was the knife dipped in poison? Ah, fuck it, I think as I pull the knife from my leg and throw it across the room, directly into the old man’s chest. I gave him a chance, I truly did, but I had to do it. He slumps over, his face landing into the scalding soup before him with a thud and subsequent splash. I can see the steam rising from it. I dinnae bother to check to see if He is still alive, for if He is not, the burns from the soup will serve him right. Can a person drown in a bowl of soup?
I hightail it out of the castle and toward my men.
“Burn it to the ground,” I order, and they scramble to obey. From atop my horse, I watch as the heap and the last Duncan burn together. It seems a fitting end.