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Informationen zum Autor Lynn Kurland is the USA Today bestselling author of Stardust of Yesterday, A Dance Through Time, This Is All I Ask, The Very Thought of You, Another Chance to Dream, The More I See You , and If I Had You . She is also a contributor to The Christmas Cat, Christmas Spirits, Veils of Time, Opposites Attract , and A Knight’s Vow anthologies. A full-time writer, she lives in the Pacific Northwest. Klappentext The novel Kurland's fans have been waiting for--the untold story of Highland lord Patrick MacLeod! the first in his Scottish clan to travel through time for love. Original. 1 Scotland in the Fall Were there any other words in the Mother Tongue that could possibly conjure up more romantic thoughts and feelings than those? Madelyn Phillips let her luggage slip to the ground, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. No, those were the words, this was the country, and she had two weeks stretching out in front of her with nothing to do but enjoy. That she was poised to visit the Highlands when the air was full of the briskness of fall was simply the stuff of dreams. "Get a move on, ducky.'" Madelyn moved, thanks to a friendly shove on her backside by the man standing behind her. Thank heavens he had used his suitcase. At least she hoped he had used his suitcase. She looked around her and realized belatedly that she was blocking the exit from the train station. In her defense it had been a very long day. Or maybe it had been two days. At this point she just wasn't really sure anymore. It felt like weeks since she'd slept in a horizontal position. She moved out of Mr. Ducky's way, pulling her suitcase along behind her and trying to ignore the fact that one of the wheels had somehow become fused to something else during a too-lengthy stay near her radiator on the night before she'd left the States. She paused at the station's entrance, looked, then smiled at the sight of people driving on the wrong side of the street. She listened to the conversations wafting past her and sighed in pleasure at the lilting sounds that cascaded over her. It was better than she'd dared hope, and she'd dared hope a lot. She yawned suddenly, then rubbed her eyes and gave herself a shake. She didn't have time to sleep. She had much to see, much to do. Sleep could wait. She pushed away from the wall, hauled her carry-on and violin case farther up over her shoulder, took a firm grip on the handle of her no-longer-rolling roll-along suitcase, and made tracks for the local rental agency. Half an hour and several dubious looks later--it was possible she'd yawned one too many times--she was the possessor of keys and a very unsatisfactory map of the Highlands. She put it into her notebook with great reluctance, though she supposed she didn't have to look at it. After all, she had directions to the inn where she was staying from the proprietor himself. He could no doubt tell her where to find a map that had more roads drawn on it than this. Unless these were all the roads there were. Then again, fewer roads, fewer people. Less things to run over on her first day. Maybe that was a good thing. She hauled her gear to the car, put it in the trunk, and managed to get herself behind the steering wheel on the correct side of the car without any undue stress or confusion. "Drive on the left,'" she reminded herself as she negotiated her way through the parking lot. That was a little unsettling in and of itself, but it was nothing compared to trying to blend in with the local traffic. She wondered why rental agencies didn't grill potential renters about their level of jetlag before handing over any keys. She took a deep breath and put her foot on the gas. She had a few hair--raising near misses with pedestrians, cars, and other bits of unyielding curb material, then she was quite suddenly on the road out of town. The r...
