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Chapman, Janet Pine Creek Hig Kuess niemals einen Highlander
Chapman, Janet Pine Creek Hig Das Herz des Highlanders
Cooper Lovell [Love's Influen Tessa's Highlander [Siren Class
Chapman, Janet Pine Creek Hig Der Traum des Highlanders
Connie Mason & Mia Marlowe Sins of the Highlander (epub) i
Cassidy Cayman [Lost Highland Wild about the Witch (epub)
Chapman, Janet Pine Creek Hig Der Ring des Highlanders
Connie C Scharon [Highland Le Enchanted Lover (epub)
Cathy MacRae The Highlander's Accidental Bri
Culine Ramsden Define Me (epub)

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.Autumn in the HighlandsBy Spring HortonCopyright 2014 Spring Hortonvisit SUPERIORZ.ORG for more mm booksTo Fin and everyone who, not so gently, nudged me into this genre and helped make this book a realityCHAPTER ONEA crisp breeze blew off the dewy morning moors.There was still green here and there in the tall grasses, but much of the flora had given over to the browns of autumn already.David Dillahunt squinted his gray eyes against the wind as his dark hair whipped about his forehead.He sat on a large boulder on a hill overlooking the moors.He looked out over the landscape ahead, the sun glinting off the marshy areas.Then he glanced back to his lap, straightening out the crinkled, well-used map he’d been carrying for almost six months.He wasn’t a big fan of maps, strictly speaking, but the Scottish Highlands could be a tricky place.He’d heard the stories of backpackers getting lost on the moors and freezing to death in sudden storms.Even the people that lived there were cautious of the paths they took.He was close to Inverness now, the lure of Loch Ness being too much even for someone as well traveled as he was.The myths and legends of the British Isles were what had drawn him to this land to begin with.He spotted a small, country road on the map and looked up to see if he could see it on the landscape below.When he found it, he repacked the map and started a trail through the moors.He took his time.He was in no hurry, had nowhere he needed to be.Many might argue that there wasn’t much to see, but David relished every thistle, every patch of heather.The hardy Highland flowers were still blooming.Even in the wind and chill they clung to life, not ready to give up their seeds.After a few moments of distraction, he looked up and realized he was about to plunge into an obscured marsh.He hopped to the side with a laugh, barely getting his feet wet.The cold moisture on his feet was still uncomfortable and he was thankful to reach the road.He sat down alongside it and changed his socks.Not far ahead, the valley gave way to a series of hills and it was from behind the first that he could hear a vehicle roaring.He quickly slipped his shoes back on, but barely managed to back off the road before it went speeding by him, the horn honking angrily.As David stepped back onto the road, the vehicle slowly reversed.It was an ancient lorry, loaded down with wood and what looked like restaurant supplies.He stepped up to the driver’s window, a large grin crossing his face.“Hi!” he said, his deep baritone full of friendliness.An older man, looking for all the world like Santa Clause to David, gave him the once over and then one eye squinted almost shut.“What in the world are ya doin’ sitting in the middle of the road?” he asked, annoyance and a ring of curiosity in his voice.David blushed; his circumstances making him feel green.“I got a little distracted out on the moor and stepped into a marsh.I was just changing my socks.”The old man shook his head.“Don’t ya know that people die out on the moor?” he roared.“Ya canna just stroll through with yer head in the clouds.”Before the man could sigh and call him a tourist, he gave him a good natured nod.“Yes, I am aware of that.It’s not a mistake I will make again.I’m walking to Inverness, so I’ll stick to the road from now on.”“Inverness? You’ll never make it to Inverness before dark.My village is just a few miles down the road.I’ll take ya to my Inn.”“You own an Inn?” David asked.He had to admit that he felt a little relieved at not having to walk any further in his wet shoes.“Aye, lad.Angus MacTierny is the name.Jump on in.” He waited for the young, American tourist to climb in next to him and then asked, “And who might you be?”“David Dillahunt,” he answered and offered his hand to shake.Angus took his hand and shook it.“Nice to meet you, David Dillahunt.Strong name.Are ya sure you aren’t Irish, David?”“Uh, I might be,” the younger man laughed.“No telling.”“Ah, Americans,” the old man sighed as he put the lorry back in gear and headed off down the road.“No sense of yer ancestors anymore.”He nodded with a smile.“That’s true.So, what is this village of yours?”Angus suddenly had a smile of his own.“Glencreag.You’ll love the place.”A few miles turned into twenty over rolling hills and rocky roads, but they finally made it to the outskirts of the town.David felt like he’d been beaten and thrown into someone’s trunk, and was thankful when the lorry pulled up to park.He glanced around, his eyes taking in the beauty of the location, as he gingerly got out of the passenger side.The Inn, which a large wooden sign informed him was called Meadowlands, was nestled into an outcropping of trees just on the edge of town.The village was built on a series of rocky hills, dotted with scotch pines and deciduous trees and the Inn was built on the first hill in town.Through the pines he could see the High Street at the bottom of the valley below, flanked by homes and businesses making their way up the surrounding hills.Angus had been right; it was a lovely place [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]