At this time last year, I was writing Taken by the Laird, the book that was released yesterday. It wouldn’t be finished until nearly Christmas, but I was totally into the wintry setting. I’d always wanted to write a story with a snowed-in scene, but I don’t write westerns, and that’s where you usually find them. So I invented Castle Glenloch on the eastern shore of Scotland, a place that’s been known to get some snow. And voila! My snowed-in scene.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. On my visits to England, Scotland and Ireland, I visited lots of castles. And they’re always inspiring, each one. I can sit down on a low, stone wall, or stand in an empty castle courtyard, and just imagine the sights and sounds of life there when the castle was in its prime. It’s what drew me to writing – I loved thinking about the events that might have taken place during the Age of Chivalry – and I published several tales of knights and damsels before I switched to writing Regency-set historicals.

My inspiration for the setting of Taken by the Laird was Dunnotter Castle in Scotland (at right). It’s wild and remote, and the perfect spot for my hero, Hugh Christie, laird of Glenloch, to base his smuggling operation. In my version of the castle, Hugh’s ancestors rehabbed the place to some extent, so there are some habitable areas, but a lot of it is in ruins, which suits Hugh perfectly.

The ruins made me think about ghosts, and so Castle Glenloch has one. In fact, an article in Chemical and Engineering News (one of my husband’s scientific journals) gave me the perfect idea for my ghost – and I’m not going to spoil it by telling you now.   What I can tell you is that the ghost is a minor part of the story, so if paranormal elements put you off, don’t worry. It’s a small detail.

Hugh Christie was introduced as a widower in my January book, Wild. He’s a brooding man with a dark past and a secret, and when our intrepid heroine, Brianna Munro, shows up, Hugh knows it’s going to go downhill from there. She has obviously come into the castle to get out of the brutal weather, but he senses she’s not telling him the whole truth about who she is. He suspects she might even be the one who is sabotaging his smuggling operation.

 Brianna is actually the ward of an English viscount who arranges a perfectly dreadful marriage for her. She runs away, hoping that her brash Scottish aunt will help her – or just hide her. But she arrives late, and finds her aunt dying. Aware that she has no choice but to run again, she leaves right after the funeral, and soon stumbles upon Castle Glenloch. But when she meets its laird, she knows she has to lie about her identity, or else he’ll be compelled to send her (or take her) back to her guardian. And she’ll have no choice but to marry the creepy marquess her guardian has chosen for her.

Brianna feels it’s almost as dangerous to stay at Glenloch with Hugh, and she’s not one to sit and wait for things to happen around her. So she leaves the castle, intending to find a better, safer hiding place. Unfortuantely, her actions put her in grave danger, and Hugh has to rescue her, risking his life to do it.

That’s where the plaid blanket comes in. Check out the cover. The red wrap that she’s wearing is the blanket they have to share once they get to safety… But no spoilers here. I hope you’ll try Taken by the Laird, and also come and visit tomorrow when I’m the guest blogger at BordersTrueRomance. I’ll be giving away two copies of this book, and two copies of Wild. You can also read an excerpt from Taken by the Laird and enter Margo’s contest here: Margo’s Website.

Readers often ask me where I get my ideas for my medieval historical romances. After all, it’s a time period quite different to our own. My inspiration comes from all kinds of places; my dusty personal collection of research books; magazine articles; guide books of historic sites I’ve toured; even programs I’ve watched on the History Channel. My latest release, A Knight’s Temptation, Book Three of my Knight’s Series, was inspired, in part, by a piece of jewelry I imagined.

I love jewelry. At one point in my life, I thought of pursuing a career in antique jewelry. When I studied some time ago now with Sotheby’s in London, England, I toured the fabulous museums there and saw room after room filled with beautiful objects from all kinds of historical time periods and cultures. I stood in stunned awe on more than one occasion; the glittering displays of human ingenuity and creativity were truly breathtaking.

Several mornings during my year abroad, I stayed the night at a friend’s apartment in London and we headed out before daybreak to Bermondsey Market to see what bargains she and I could find at the antique dealers’ open-air stalls. Neither of us had a lot of money to spend, but the excitement of maybe discovering a treasure was worth the early start.

Portobello Road was another of my haunts. One of my favorite pieces of jewelry—a delicate silver and sparkling marcasite necklace inset with a pearl—came from a Portobello antique dealer. I wear the necklace on special occasions. It reminds me of my incredible year overseas (during which I met the man who became my husband), the excitement of my market expeditions, and the uniqueness of vintage jewelry.

Jewelry is a beautiful way to adorn our bodies. What others give us, such as engagement rings, is a reflection of their intimate feelings for us. But jewelry can also represent great power; for example, a signet ring worn by a medieval lord. Pressed into soft wax to secure a parchment, the seal left by such a ring held the importance of a signature.

The pendant in A Knight’s Temptation is an exquisite jewel of such power. I deliberately made it a ruby pendant, blood red in color, because it reflects the significance of bloodlines through my series. The jewel was bought by Moydenshire’s lord Geoffrey de Lanceau (readers will recognize him from A Knight’s Vengeance, award-winning Book One of my series) as a gift for his beloved wife to celebrate the difficult birth of their daughter. However, the pendant was stolen on its way to de Lanceau. My book’s hero, Aldwin Treynarde, is ordered to get the jewel back before his lord’s enemies get hold of it, sell it, and use the money to stir up a bloody rebellion. If Aldwin succeeds in his quest, he hopes to finally be awarded his dream of knighthood.

Of course, nothing goes exactly as Aldwin planned, especially when he meets my headstrong heroine, Lady Leona Ransley. She snatched the pendant from her drunken father’s safekeeping and arranged a meeting in a tavern to exchange the jewel for the reward. She’s very devoted to her father—but smart enough to know his guests, who gave him the pendant, are plotting treachery. When Aldwin meets Leona, he senses she knows more about the jewel than she’s willing to admit. He takes her hostage, intending to deliver her to de Lanceau for questioning, and a dangerous, sexy, thrilling adventure unravels that neither of them ever expected.

All because of a ruby pendant.

Thank goodness my antique necklace hasn’t gotten me into anywhere near as much trouble.

***
To read an excerpt from Chapter One of A Knight’s Temptation, please click here.

In high school I was always finding strange boys attractive — boys that no one else seemed to notice. For example, the boyfriend I met in grade 10 and dated again in grade 11. He was around 6’3″ and had thick glasses that made his pretty brown eyes look huge. He had longish hair and wore a leather jacket with a denim vest over it. He was such a headbanger, and not exactly what you’d call cute. But he was so tall and had big hands. And he could draw like nobody’s business. I liked him, and until he realized there were other girls out there who found him attractive, he liked me.

So now here I am in my adult years and I can tally up a list of these men I’ve found attractive who aren’t really attractive. Yes, I’m piggy backing on Kristan’s post from last week. See, she got me thinking about my current ‘crush’ whom I adore while no one else seems to. Correction, a lot of females out there seem to like this guy, but all of my friends think I’m nuts. It’s this guy here:

taken from www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk

His name is Russell Brand. Some of you might already know of him. He’s a British comedian who has hosted the MTV VMA’s for the last two years. He also starred in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I love his stand up and particularly love watching him being interviewed. I will admit that his MTV hosting has not been that amusing, but I can forgive him for that.

He’s a recovered drug addict, self-proclaimed sex-addict and should turn me off like a slap to the head, but instead I find him strangely compelling. I like how he looks (always been a sucker for a Brit boy), I even kinda like his freaky-deaky hair. Love his nose. I have a thing for noses. I also like that one minute he can look hard and mean and the next grin like an idiot. I like that his accent is pure unapologetic Cockney peppered with words that, on occasion, I’ve had to look up in the dictionary. I like that he talks about shagging women, but treats them with a degree of respect, talking as though he wants to worship them. Mainly I love the fact that he claims to have a thing for fluffy women.

Russell, I’m here for ya, babe.

I’m only telling you all this because I’m tired of treating dear Russell like a guilty pleasure. Is there something wrong with me? Of course not! How boring it would be if we all found the same people attractive. I didn’t really want you to answer the question posed in the title of this post. What I do I want to know is who YOU love but are almost embarrassed to own. Come on, fess up. I know you’ve got at least one.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that my book WHEN SEDUCING A DUKE comes out on Tuesday. In it, the hero Greyden Kane would rather be hanged by his fingernails than admit how he feels about the heroine, Rose Danvers. But Rose wants Grey, and she’ll go to any length to have him — and to make him realize how much he wants her.

By the way, I’m having a contest. One lucky poster is going to win a gold leaf necklace for being brave enough to confess her/his most embarrassing crush!

Congratulations to Romantic Girl, who is the winner of my drawing (“Comforts” post). Thanks to all for adding your comments – I loved learning what you all like to do to pamper yourselves!

I love Christmas. The decorations. The music. The whole ambience of the season.

But have you noticed we’re starting to see hints of Christmas earlier and earlier? I was in
Cracker Barrel a couple weeks ago and they already have all their Christmas ornaments and items for sale…and it wasn’t even Fall. Yikes!

I really prefer that Christmas wait until at least, well, Halloween.
You notice I didn’t say Thanksgiving…even though that’s how it “used” to be. Right after Thanksgiving all the Christmas songs started playing on the radio and the stores unveiled their Christmas displays. But obviously a month is no longer enough time to shop and celebrate.

Here’s what I’m proposing…no Christmas stuff out until after Halloween. No Christmas songs on the radio until after Thanksgiving. I feel that’s more than fair. Your thoughts?

Originally, this was going to be an ‘Are you a John Girl or a Paul Girl?” post. But my daughter demanded equal time for George. And I couldn’t leave out Ringo… So, why not? Let’s talk about the Fab Four. Who isn’t these days, with all the hubbub over Beatles Rockband and their remastered music flooding the airwaves?

Usually, shameless commercialism has me running the other way, but being bombarded with Beatles tunes has reminded me how much I love their music and what an impact they made.  So, it begs the questions: Have the Beatles had an impact on you? Who’s your favorite and why?

Me? I’m a John girl. Always have been. Always will be. See, I’m a sucker for cool guy with a cheeky sense of humor. Someone who marches to his own tune. In my single days, guys like John won my heart hands down over sweet, cute guys like Paul. I remember clearly where I was when I heard the news that John Lennon had been killed. I cried, listening to his newly released Double Fantasy (Watching the Wheels was my teenage anthem). I still get wistful wondering what he might have done had his life not been cut so tragically short. 

Who’s next?  Who’s your Beatle and why?

When I was a kid, I’m thinking around 13 to 17 years old, my mother used to let us have the occasional day off from school. Sure, we went through all the motions of it being an actual sick day, but she knew it was just a break that we needed. She was a teacher, after all, and the mother of five, and knew when a kid wasn’t going to be much good in school. So, once in awhile the old “I don’t feel good” thing would work.

What I remember about those special days was having the house to myself. I could go back to bed for awhile, then drink a Coke for breakfast instead of having something nutritious. Later, I’d make a “comfort” lunch of tomato soup and a gooey, grilled cheese sandwich.

By then it was 1:00, time to curl up in my dad’s comfy over-stuffed chair to watch the Bill Kennedy Show on Channel 9. It was a local station that broadcast from Windsor, Ontario (that’s Canada, for anyone who is geographically challenged) right across the Detroit River from my house. Bill had been a minor actor in Hollywood in the 30s and 40s, and knew everything about Hollywood gossip, and pretty much every movie ever made. He was a truly awful host who smoked incessantly, and every time there was a commercial break, he had waaay too much to say between puffs of his ciggies. But he showed the most wonderful movies.

This is how i saw Rebecca, For Whom the Bell Tolls, and The Maltese Falcon. While the fall and winter winds whistled around my house, I fell in love with Clark Gable in It Happened One Night. I just couldn’t wait for that curtain they’d hung down the middle of their bed to fall and then…! But of course, it never happened.

And then there was Jimmy Stewart, a true hero for my teenage heart. I’d never seen anything as blatantly sexual as JS drooling over Kim Novak in Bell Book and Candle. He was so hot for her, I thought my little 24 inch TV screen would implode. 

Or how about Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones in the wonderful – and hot – A Farewell to Arms. Those two were so wild for each other (ok – suspend your knowledge of reality for just a second) I kept wishing they’d show more of the love story. OK, OK, there was a war going on, but more important than all those bombs and ambulances was the question: What Was Happening with Rock and Jenny?

The best times were when one of those “silly” romantic comedies would be on. (Which got no end of criticism from my dad and brothers so I had to stay home from school to watch them in peace – of course, I checked the TV Guide before I decided on a sick day). I loved the Doris Day movies with either Rock or Cary Grant.

And speaking of Cary, what about Arsenic and Old Lace? That was one that could make me grin and snuggle down even farther into my cozy, wooly blanket. Remember John Wayne in The Quiet Man? How about Gary Cooper in… anything at all?

All those good old movies were fodder for me. I processed them and internalized all the conflicts, those silly moments and the tragedies, the quirky looks and zany antics. And when I started writing Romance, I wanted to provide the same comfort to my readers that I’d experienced all those years ago while watching Bill Kennedy. I wanted every woman who picked up a Margo Maguire novel to feel as though she were wrapped  up in a cozy blanket and sitting in her dad’s big chair eating a grilled cheese sandwich (without the carlories). I hope I accomplished that with Taken by the Laird which will be in stores in two days! Laird has all the elements that intrigue me as a reader and a connoisseur of fine films: a feisty heroine and a hunky hero with a secret sorrow. Period costumes and a Scottish castle. Smugglers and… a ghost.

Now you get to tell me about one of your “guilty” comforts. I’m going to pick one lucky poster and send her an advance copy of Taken by the Laird. Maybe I’ll throw in a few Jaunty goodies as well!

EAP! Email me at k.higgins@snet.net so I can send you a signed copy of Just One of the Guys.

Thanks, everyone, for all the fun comments!

Urquhart Castle

I just (as in 4 hours ago!) returned from Scotland where I’ve spent just over three weeks – sightseeing, researching, gaining inspiration and just enjoying the experience that Scotland is and can be.  I visited castles and museums and historic buildings and places and even spent an entire day with an archeologist as my tour guide in Orkney touring Neolithic, Viking and Norse sites. And I met men-in-kilts, along with a bunch of other really nice, outgoing people and got character and story ideas.

    But, I would like to offer Scotland a few suggestions about dealing with tourists.

Wildlife Warning!

Sheep Attack!

1)  Do not allow wildlife to roam at will! Especially not on single-track roads where there is no place to get away from them when they barrel onto the roads in front of unsuspecting American drivers who are on the wrong side of the road. . .  And please train them not to rush onto the road by themselves or in group formations to try to intimidate us! (um….it works!)

Curves Ahead?

2) Don’t bother wasting resources on road signs that warn of curves ahead — I discovered that almost all the roads I drove on are curved, many eligible for any self-respecting road rally. So, to save money and time, simply mark the roads that ARE NOT curved.

Uphill. . .

. . . in both directions!

3) Post warnings with realistic expectations of walking time (and percentage of grade on path) from the car park to the actual castle, ruin, standing stone, etc.  It really does take longer than 10 minutes to walk a mile uphill. . . in both directions!

Speaking of uphill. . .

180 Steps up

. . and a million more in another direction!

4) Some enterprising Scot should design a travelers’ aid that will act like those ski tow ropes that pull you up the hills! A small tractor attached to sturdy ropes that tourists can hold onto and be ‘assisted’ up the highly-angled paths would be greatly appreciated!

On the way to Durness

5) but most of all — please, please stop giving tourists views like this that make our hearts both soarfrom the beauty and break from the unfortunate reality that we have to leave and go  home.  Of course the result of spectacular scenery is that no one can ever leave Scotland without wanting and needing to go back. I know I couldn’t — but please don’t tell my hubby that I am already thinking of the next trip and all the possibilities!

     So — what have you all been up to while I’ve been out of the country? Have you ever visited a place that affected you like Scotland affects me? Please leave a comment and I’ll be choosing one person to receive a couple of special souvenirs that I brought home with me and a signed book. . .

Terri B

PS — I will catch up with all prize winners shortly! So please comment!

POSSESSED!

As a romance writer, I’m in the happy business of constantly thinking about men. McIrish doesn’t mind, as I am quite the devoted wife and even occasionally bake him a pie. And sure, I love the good-looking guys…Daniel Craig, Clive Owen, George Clooney. Jake Gyllenhaal has beautiful eyes and an irresistible smile. I recently fell in love with Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who, it must be acknowledged, looks like Heath Ledger’s little brother. Denzel. Oh, yes, Denzel! (Does it look like his lips are forming the word “Kristan,” or is that just me?)

In a lot of my books, the hero isn’t one of those perfectly delicious men. In one or two, he is, but for the most part, it’s the sum of the parts, rather than the parts themselves, if you know what I mean. In Just One of the Guys, Chastity, who’s not exactly a traditionally pretty woman herself, is obsessed by Trevor’s looks, which she describes as not-quite-handsome and utterly delicious, the male equivalent of death by chocolate.

In addition to Daniel and George, Clive and Jake, there are plenty of men I find attractive who, let’s be honest, are really not that good-looking. They are, however, oh-so-appealing. Maybe they’re a little goofy looking. A little roughed up, perhaps. A little psycho, maybe. But there’s something about them that just…speaks to me. So here they are — my guys!

Christopher Walken. It’s not just the hair. Or the smile. Or the dancing. Maybe it’s the cowbell. And of course, the odd rhythm when he talks. But definitely the cowbell.

John Malkovich. Scary? Yes. Doesn’t he play the bad guy just a little too convincingly? But still…that smile. That wicked, wicked smile!

Ed Harris. Okay, okay, he’s pretty hot. But if he’s on my list, I get to post a picture!

Morgan Freeman. I would leave my husband for Morgan Freeman. (Sorry, honey.)

Johnathan Hillstrand. Captain of the Time Bandit on Deadliest Catch. Manly. Strong. Captain. My captain. Sorry, sorry, forgot where I was for a sec.

Ed Helm. He’s Andy on The Office, and the guy who loses his tooth in The Hangover. Sure, he’s kind of a dork…but cute, too, you know? Preppy. You can just tell he’d make a great husband.

Benicio del Toro. Sure, he usually looks like he’s been out all night, boxing with men who are much bigger and stronger, but man! I love this guy!

Chris Martin, lead singer of Coldplay. He looks like a loud noise would have him cowering under a couch, but he has eyes like an angel. And I love his songs. But Gwyneth, seriously. Give him a cookie. He’s too skinny!

Seth Green. Adorable. Dorky. Hilarious. Great smile. I’ll always think of him as Scott Evil, Dr. Evil’s son in Austin Powers.

Philip Seymour Hoffman. Proof that we gals really do love intelligent men. This guy is so talented, he just disappears into the role. I love him! I do!

Who’d I leave off the list who belongs there, folks? What is it about that not-quite-so-perfect guy that just gets to you? Eyelashes? Smile? Brains? Sense of humor? Do you like a hero who’s more Brad Pitt, or more Robert Downey Jr.? I’ll pick a winner to receive a signed copy of the recently reprinted Just One of the Guys.