What do you think of the cover for my new book, Where Moonbeams Dance? I love it, for it perfectly illustrates the setting for my story – but you’ll have to read it to make up your own minds about that.
It’s FREE here for the next five days!
Here’s what it is about
Hannah’s marriage to Brian had been loveless, but it still hadn’t stopped her being devastated when he died suddenly, leaving her penniless, and with three young children to bring up.
The building society was poised to repossess their home. The future had never looked bleaker.
But Hannah’s luck changes when she’s offered the tenancy of a croft in the Scottish Highlands.
Lizzie Sutherland, an aged and distant aunt of Brian’s, had bequeathed her beloved croft in Corrieglen, to the family.
Hannah fell in love with Lanrig the first time she set eyes on it. Standing by the door, at the top of the high pasture, and looking out over the burn to the Spruce covered slopes on the other side, she knew that at last she had found a safe home for Robbie, Jamie, and little Holly.
The warm welcome they got from the locals was an added bonus, and soon the little family was settling happily into Highland life.
Even Ross Hunter, the Laird of Corrieglen’s surly estate manager, who had left Hannah in no doubt that he didn’t think her capable of running a croft, seemed to be warming to her.
But spiteful eyes were watching Hannah, and although she didn’t yet know it, someone was plotting her downfall – and they didn’t much care who got hurt in the process.
The Inspiration behind the story …
Lizzie, a most capable and independent Highland woman, was the inspiration for my book, Where Moonbeams Dance.
Her croft in the Scottish Highlands, which she ran single-handed after her husband died, became Hannah’s ‘Lanrig’ in my story – and it really did nestle up on the high pasture, looking out over the silvery waters of the River Oykel.
There was no plumbing or electricity in Lizzie’s croft. Fresh water had to be drawn daily from a well at the top of the yard. Light came from the oil lamps. Peat, dug out of the hillside, fuelled the fire in the black range, which also provided heat for the oven where she baked her bread and scones.
Lizzie kept a cow for milking, and every year the animal would be mated with a bull from a neighbouring croft, giving Lizzie a calf for the winter market.
There were no handy shops up in the depths of Sutherland, so the old lady depended on weekly visits from a grocery van to stock up on essentials.
If life was hard then Lizzie never knew, for it was the only life she’d ever known.
I never met Lizzie, but I feel I knew her well. She was my husband’s grandmother.
I hope you enjoy the book.
Have a nice week, everyone. Rx