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Wicked Highlander (Dark Sword Series #3)

And soon Hayden comes to realize that this beautiful, beguiling woman is not his enemy at all—she is his destiny. And, even as the forces of darkness conspire against them, their love will conquer all RT Book Reviews says, "Grant's newest Dark Sword tale is outstanding, with its delightful melding of history and the effect of centuries-old Druid magic.

This series rocks!

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Donna Grant has been praised for her "totally addictive" and "unique and sensual" stories. This superbly written story will draw readers into the dramatic romance and powerful emotions of the characters. Both a pageturner and a keeper, this tale is highly memorable and leads straight into the next installment. The twists and turns of the story were never ending, and the path to defeating the evil that they faced was balanced between edge of my seat action and snuggly sensual romance.

The story line is fast-paced as the villainous sets in motion her endgame in which she uses love to destroy her enemies and to re-enslave the siblings. From beginning to end, I was enthralled in this story. I had a blast reading Wicked Highlander! The characters are to die for, the steamy and action-packed scenes a joy to read and I cannot wait to read more of this wonderful series. Donna Grant definitely does not disappoint.

Wicked Highlander surges with sensuality and is by far the best Dark Sword book yet. Foreign Editions Spain. Download a Computer Wallpaper.

More by Donna Grant

She was falling. Into the Pit. Her body hit the stone with a loud smack, and she scrambled to hold on to the sloping rock. She ignored the pain throughout her body and concentrated on not falling. Her fingers kept slipping on the smooth stone, the darkness rising up to meet her faster and faster with the lowering of the door. Then, thank the saints, she found a handhold. She held on for dear life, her fingers aching with the effort. She wanted just a moment to get her bearings before she clawed her way back out. She had forgotten the Warriors and wyrran surrounding her.

Too late she saw the Warrior come at her out of the corner of her eye. His foot connected with her ribs, the pain sharp and terrible. She hit the ground on her side with a thud that left her dazed and her head spinning. Seconds ticked by as the crowd above her shouted and roared their excitement.

What did they know that she did not?

Wicked Highlander - Grant, Donna - | HPB

Marcail pushed past the hurt of her body and rose up on an elbow to peer into the shadows. Who was there? Or rather…what? She could feel them watching her. And waiting. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted as she heard the first growl. Her stomach flipped then fell to her feet as fear took hold of her with a cold hand.

She knew then what surrounded her. Her entire body hurt, and she feared her ribs might be cracked. The first Warrior stepped out of the shadows at her feet. His skin was bright green like the color of the first buds of spring. Instead of just you. I might do it anyway just to be sure no one knows the spell. I cannot have you destroying my perfectly laid plans, now can I? Marcail's turquoise eyes blazed with hatred.

She shook with anger, causing the gold bands that bound the tiny braids atop her head to bang together. Deirdre stared at the Druid.

Marcail had a classic beauty with her oval face and high cheekbones. Her curves obviously caught the attention of men by the looks of the Warriors watching Marcail. But it was Marcail's magic that truly made her shine. It was one of the reasons Deirdre hated mie so. All that goodness just made her ill. What you don't realize is that I'll be a goddess soon.

There is no one who can defeat me now, and once I take over the world, no one will think of going against me. Instead of whimpering, Marcail chuckled. I may not be here to see you brought low, drough, but you will be destroyed. For an instant, Deirdre knew real fear. Druids possessed powerful magic, and some could see into the future with alarming accuracy. She pushed the apprehension aside and raised a brow.

Deirdre hadn't gained her power by giving into threads of panic. And who might this savior of yours be? Marcail nodded her head of wavy sable locks, rows upon rows of small braids falling around her face and over her shoulders and mixing with her hair.


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It's only a matter of time. Deirdre looked at the Warriors holding Marcail and smiled. The Warriors began to laugh, their large muscular bodies shaking with mirth. Deirdre turned to the crowd below her and raised her hand to gain their attention. Laughter erupted and filled the great cavern.

She waited until it had quieted before she turned back to the Druid who had the potential to ruin everything. Marcail's eyes grew large as the Warriors hauled her down the stairs to the entrance of the Pit. Deirdre smiled and rubbed her hands together. She loved shocking people. Marcail had been too easy, though.

Deirdre leaned her hands on the rocks that lined the railing of her balcony and looked at the creatures below. The wyrran and the other Warriors parted to let them through. Marcail continued to struggle, even kicking the Warriors when she was able. She was a fighter to be sure. If Deirdre thought for a moment she could turn the mie to her side she would do it.

But what Marcail held in the darkest recess of her mind could undo everything Deirdre had put into place and then some. Deirdre couldn't even take the chance of killing the Druid herself, much as she wanted to. Marcail came from a powerful line of Druids and there were enchantments and curses placed all around Marcail as well as in her blood. Whoever killed her was in for quite a surprise.

The Warriors throughout the cavern began to stomp their feet, banging them like a drum against the stones. Marcail raised her eyes to Deirdre as the two guards stopped in the middle of the cave.

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Wicked Highlander

There was a hint of fear in Marcail's gaze, but not the usual terror that Deirdre was used to. Marcail could be a problem, which is why she was being thrown into the Pit. Few Warriors survived in the shadows. There was no way a mie would last a day. Whether the Warriors raped Marcail or killed her, all that mattered was that the Druid would be dead — of course, those same Warriors would die for harming Marcail, but Deirdre didn't care.

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She wanted to focus on other things. Like Quinn. With a nod, Deirdre bade the trapdoor open. Marcail screamed as the floor shifted and titled beneath her. The Druid's feet slid out from underneath her.