Welcome, Jean Grant

Finding my Muse in Scotland 

My trip to Scotland fulfilled a bucket list goal and it also fed my imagination for writing about this windswept, mystical place…and it gave birth to what would become my historical romance trilogy. It was a memorable trip indeed—not all sunshine and roses during a very rainy September, but memories, yes. 

Did I mention that it rains in Scotland? A lot. Even though September is supposed to be a drier month, many of our supposedly breathtaking sights were shrouded in a gray cloud of heavy precipitation. Aside from our mishaps, Scotland fulfilled my preconceived notions, with my own Scottish knight by my side to escort me through the perils of winding one-lane Highland roads, haunting castle ruins, and dark alleyways to questionable hostels. 

Lone sheep wandered down the middle of a meandering country road. Windswept moors, heather fields, and green rolling hills flanked our drives. Wild rocky trails and impressive mountains greeted us on our hikes. Blue lochs were aplenty (yes, Loch Ness is a deep beautiful loch and no, we didn’t see Nessie – but we did see the ghostly remains of Urquhart castle) on our two-week trip in this geological gem of a country. I think I gasped on the tarmac when I emerged from the plane in Glasgow. 

My husband and I packed our itinerary because we set the bar high. What can a couple do in less than two weeks? Well…

·       Visit a dozen castles and palaces (Threave castle required a rowboat ride across an overflowed River Dee)

·       Kayak on the astutely named Loch Awe to the ruins of Kilchurn Castle

·       Hike through Highlands and mountains

·       Attend a Highland Game

·       Partake in culinary delights such as haggis and fish and chips

·       Converse with locals 

·       Drive over sketchy bridges to reach Rua Reidh, a lighthouse hostel on the North Minch of Wester Ross (no, not the Westeros of Game of Thrones fame, but I can see the striking similarities)

·       Expand our navigation skills on double-roundabouts (like a figure 8), one lane roads, and left-side driving—in a manual-shift car

·       Meander through abbey and church ruins

·       Take a moment of reflection at the remains of Culloden Battlefield

·       Stay at the haunted (yes, there's a ghost) 14th century Borthwick Castle 

Now for the mishaps: blowing out a car tire on a rock, getting a manual-shift car instead of an automatic, while driving on the opposite side of the road oops!, castles closing before we got there, getting lost on city roads, plodding trough deluging rain to find a hostel down a dark alley, and hiking a washed out trail through Glencoe while hundreds of midges made a home in my hair, missing the sites due to a downpour (like the huge Glenfinnan Viaduct and the Black Cuillin mountains on Skye)… Nonetheless, I left Scotland feeling rejuvenated and inspired and ready to take on the next big novel! 

The setting in the hundred trilogy utilizes many splendors from our whirlwind tour of Scotland: the western isles (and standing stones—we’ll visit those next time), Eilean Donan Castle, the Highlands, Edinburgh, Dryburgh Abbey, the rugged crags and glens, and the beauty, mystery, and lore of the Scottish middles ages. Bonus research: I visited a recreated Viking ship a few years ago and it fed the muse for the Norse conquering and battles that take place in the first book of the trilogy.

Scotland—its lore, land, and people—will always be my muse. The question now: what to write next?

 

Bio:

Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women's fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she's not writing or chasing after children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.

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BLURB:

1322, Scotland

Rosalie Threston's fortune-telling lies have caught up with her. Uprooted yet again, she's on the run from a ruthless English noblewoman. She flees to Scotland and seeks refuge in the arms of a laird's son who happens to be a real Seer.

A bloody past and inevitable future plague Domhnall Montgomerie. He avoids physical contact with others to ease the painful visions. When an accidental touch reveals only delight, he wonders if Rose is the key to silencing the Sight.

Mystical awakening unravels with each kiss. But can Domhnall embrace his gift in time to save her life, even it means exposing her lies?

 

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Excerpt:

She drew his hand into her palm. Her pulse drummed in her ears. Breathe, Rose. Breathe. His fingers trembled in her hand but neither of them released the look. She tried to convey trust and understanding with her own gentle smile. When he seemed settled, she turned her gaze to his hand. After a pause, she said, “It is as I said. Air is your element.”

“What else do you see?” He leaned in, closer. Sweat, sage, hmmm…male? Was male a scent?

Feeling his eyes upon hers, she continued to scrutinize, drawing light touches over the mounds. “You’re somewhat content, though you spend hours alone to get away?”

He held a straight face. “Easy enough facts to guess. I’m a watchman. Fortune-tellers are good in their ploy.” She refrained from arguing. He was on the defense. Understandable. Most people were. He was correct after all. She stroked his fingers. Pretended to examine. His hands were ice-cold.

All right, memory. Time to shine. The marketplace fire, something from his youth. Domhnall liked animals. Seemed to not like fire or touch. She chanced the next statement. “Something in your past upsets you.” Again, stone-faced. At least his hand had stopped trembling.

She would throw out statements until one stuck. Had she been incorrect in her eavesdropping? Surely the servants had been gossiping about Domhnall.

He chewed his lip. Held her gaze.

She paused and pushed the candle closer. “To see better.”

He flinched.

Yes. Fire. It bothered him.

people.