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Lost in the Highlands, Volume One
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This is a work of fiction.
Lost in the Highlands Series © 2017 Lorraine Beaumont
Lost in the Highlands, Book One © 2016 Lorraine Beaumont
Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are figments of the authors imagination or used fictitiously.
Text Copyright © 2017 Lorraine Beaumont
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the express written permission of the author.
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Printed in the USA
Praise for the Lost in the Highland Series
”Irresistible characters, fresh voice and a hero to die for…what’s there not to like!” Jamie Scott, Award Winning Author
“One of THE BEST series I have ever read! You won't be disappointed I promise. I hope this series NEVER ENDS!!!” Cheri
“Time Travel at its finest! This is by far one of the best books I have read in the past year and I read a lot of books.” Barbara McCarthy
“Book itself is very entertaining but be warned it is also very funny. Paige wants to meet a real Highlander. You mix mead, Highland games, gypsy fortune teller, and you get entertaining novellas. Well-developed characterization and well-written story line.” Reader
“I enjoyed the suspense and intrigue. Can’t wait for the next one. Gavin and Paige are a cute couple.” Jana
“Hard to put it down the wonderful feeling of being lost in another world. I'm absolutely satisfied with the author. First time reading Lorraine Beaumont can't Wait to read another one of her books. Good job my friend. Loved it. Thanks.” Dwanda Evans.
“Great book!” Cheryl R Stubbs
“I thoroughly enjoyed the book so much that I immediately downloaded next in the series. Can't wait to read more!” Brigg Lady
“OMG yes! Loved every page turn... love and hate relationship... Twists and turns in this amazing story about believing in hope and love...A must read book!” Lilianna
“This book is fast paced and well written. The characters are interesting and the drama is fantasy.” Christy Williams
“Great book!” Dawn Rivell
“I thoroughly enjoyed this book and read it in a day. I caught myself laughing out loud at some of the antics going on. I rarely rate a book 5 stars but this one was definitely a 5 star read!” Patty C
“It's an awesome Read and I can't wait to read the next one!” Booknerd
“Very good story line .enjoyed it. Will read this author again. Characters were believable. Love time travel stories.” Sharon Yoss
“I purchased the Audible edition of this book to listen to while driving on vacation. I laughed so hard a few times that I almost had to pull over! I loved the story and the narrator did a wonderful job! I'm really looking forward to the next one!” Reader
“If you enjoy time traveling novels this is the one to read. I cannot wait to read the others in this series. The characters and story line are well developed and one can relate to the characters. I would recommend this book.” Brenda L Langham
Other titles by Lorraine Beaumont
Ravenhurst Series
#1 Bestselling Time Travel Romance
Forgotten Time
Shadows of Yesterday
Time to Remember
Dreams of Tomorrow
Now and Forever
A Victorian Christmas
Lucian
Merlin
A Modern-Day Christmas
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Ravenhurst Special Edition Trilogy
Ravenhurst, Vol I
Ravenhurst, Vol II
Ravenhurst, Vol III
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Lost in the Highland Series
#1 Bestselling Scottish Time Travel Romance
Lost in the Highlands, Vol I
Lost in the Highlands, Vol II
Lost in the Highlands, Vol III
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Briarcliff Series
Young Adult Paranormal Dark Urban
Fantasy Written for Adults
Briarcliff – Vol I
Briarcliff – Vol II
Briarcliff – Vol III
Briarcliff Box Set
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Edenbrooke Hollow Series
Paranormal Time Travel Romance
The Witches of Edenbrooke Witches
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New Series in the Works
TABLE OF CONTENTS
READERS CHOICE EDITION
FIRST PERSON
THIRD PERSON
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY- THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LORRAINE’S OTHER SERIES
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A Personal Note from Lorraine -
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
EXTRAS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This series, like Outlander, Harry Potter, Twilight, Hunger Games, Divergent, Pretty little Liars, The Vampire Chronicles, Trylle, Witches of East End, Vampire Academy, Shades of Grey, True Blood, Nightshade, Matched, Vampire Diaries, The Selection, etc. is an ongoing story.
This means ALL the books are interconnected. The book will NOT end with the first book in the series. And yes, some do have cliffhangers. And no, this book is not like any of those books with the exception that it is ongoing, evolving story, just like all of those books.
There are three books in this series, which means the overall story will not end until you read the third book, hence the word trilogy in the title.
This book also has Readers’ Choice, which simply means the reader can chose whether to read the story in a first person narrative or a third person narrative.
Although some of the places and even the creature in this book come from real stories, and sightings, this is still a work of fiction and is not to be read for historical accuracy, only enjoyment.
In addition, pertaining to the game inside, I added it because I love games and I thought it would be fun for my readers to embark on an additional adventure while reading. However, if you do not like games or would rather not play, you do not have to participate to enjoy the books.
♥Lorraine Beaumont
READERS CHOICE EDITION
FIRST PERSON VERSION
THIRD PERSON VERSION
For Paige Walsh
Where ever you are!
PART ONE
FIRST PERSON VERSION
PROLOGUE
GRANDFATHER MOUTAIN,
North Carolina, Present Day
Taking a deep breath, I looked out the windshield of my car at all th
e brightly striped tents set up on the grassy plateau sprawled out in front of me. Dark, swirling, heavy, clouds surrounded the area. In the middle, where the tents were set up, spears of light streamed down from above, giving the entire area a sort of magical vibe.
The Highland games had been coming to Grandfather Mountain for years now and I had yet to get up enough nerve to attend one event.
“I’m here today,” I reminded myself. Grabbing some money, I stepped out of my car and shoved it in my pocket. I told myself I was just scouting out a new venue for my art, but that wasn’t altogether true. I wanted a Highlander for my own and by golly, I would get one if I had anything to say about it…
Or so I hoped.
♦
It was a bit of a hike to the upper plateau. By the time I made it to area where all the tents were set up, I was winded and had worked up a good sweat.
The enticing smell of various foods wafted towards me and on que, my stomach growled. Pushing on my stomach, I tried to get it to settle down.
In every direction, something was going on. Shirtless men, with glistening oiled bodies ran across the field taking turns throwing large logs, while others tackled one another.
A chorus of cheers rang out from the sidelines when a shirtless man tossed another shirtless man into a bog of mud. They wrestled each other until an older man who was also wearing a kilt, tossed a white flag into the middle. The crowd on the left side jeered with boos and obscenities while the crowd on the right applauded and cheered.
It was quite a spectacle to behold.
A makeshift path with ropes herded the people coming into games into two separate tents. One sign read, ‘Highlanders’, while the other sign read, ‘Lasses’. Stepping forward, I claimed my place in the line heading into the ‘Lassie’s’ tent and waited my turn.
♦
Smoothing my hand over the front of my plaid, I stepped out of the changing room and spun around for my audience of one.
“Paige, aren’t ye a bonny looking lass, wearing that plaid as if it were yer verra own.” Tavner let out a low appreciative whistle.
“Tavner, you are going to make me blush.”
“Aye, I like ta do more than that if only I was a wee bit younger.” He winked.
“Oh, stop.” My face heated.
“Now get on with ye, lass, and get yer reading done before the line gets too long.”
“Why do I need a reading?”
“It’s a custom since ye are a virgin,” he said.
“What?”
“Not that kind of virgin, lass.” He chuckled heartily, making his beard quiver. “It just means ye are new to the games. The gypsy will tell ye which clan ta give yer favors ta in the games.”
“What’s the big deal? Can’t I just give them to who I want?”
“Nay, lass, that is no how it works.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s only a game.”
Tavner’s expression turned grim as he made the sign of the cross over his barrel chest. “Och lass, it is more than a game to us Scotsman.”
“Well, of course,” I tried to recant. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” The last thing I wanted to do was insult him.
A strange look crossed his face and then he stepped up to me. “It’s all right, lass. Mistakes happen all the time.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“So, um, where’s this fortune teller’s tent I need to visit?”
“Ye will no have a problem finding it. It will be the one with a line of lasses like ye waiting outside of it.”
“Don’t you think there should be more than one? I mean, if she is that popular.”
“Only a true wanderer can give ye a reading, and she is the only one here that I know of.”
“All righty then.” I sighed and swiped a piece of my hair back from my face. “I guess I will go and get this reading done. I don’t want to make another highland faux pas.”
“Ye will be fine, lass. Stop off and get yerself some mead on yer way down.”
“What’s mead?”
“It’s a drink made from fermented honey. Ye will like it.”
“Thanks, Tavner.”
“No, I thank ye, lass.”
♦
The brightly striped tents looked much larger than they had from my car. After I got myself a large mug of mead, I made my way to the fortuneteller’s tent.
Tavner was right.
There was a very long line of girls waiting outside the boldly striped tent. Sipping my mead, I stepped to the back of the line and waited my turn.
♦
Over an hour later, a flock of giggling girls ran out from the tent waving banners of different colors of what clan they would represent in the games.
“At this rate, there won’t be any clans left for me,” I grumbled and took another large bite of my turkey leg. After the first fifteen minutes of waiting, I asked the girl standing behind me to hold my place. She agreed and I went off in search of some more mead and a turkey leg.
Unfortunately, by the time I got back, the girl I asked to hold my place was long gone. Trying to get my spot back, I tried to explain that to the other girls in the general vicinity but I could see by the looks on their faces that they were not going to budge.
Giving up, I went to the back of the line. Of course, this wouldn’t have been so bad, but after several trips to the mead tent and then to the bathroom, I was relegated to the back of the line a few more times.
Finally, I was at the front and the burly Scotsman that had been giving me strange looks off and on as I waited in line leveled his eyes on me. “Morag will see ye now.” He pushed back the tent flap.
Stepping up to the tent, I tossed my empty cup and the remnants of my turkey leg into the trash.
Giving the burly Highlander a sidelong glance, I ducked under his arm into the dim interior.
“Come in, lass,” said a crackling disembodied voice. “Have a seat and give me yer hand, lass.”
The ancient woman stared straight ahead. I felt like she was looking past me at someone behind me. She was blind, or almost. After I sat down, I reached out and gave her my hand.
♦
Once the gypsy finished with my reading she followed me back out of the tent. “It’s a deal then?” The gypsy stuck out her gnarled age-spotted hand for me to shake.
“Yes. We have a deal.” Afraid I might hurt her, I grabbed her hand gently. She seemed so frail all stooped over, bracing herself on her cane.
Her fingers tightened around mine until the point it was becoming painful. Tugging on my hand, I tried to get her to release mine but she was surprisingly strong.
With one last finger-crushing squeeze, she looked deeply into my eyes. “Are ye sure yer up to the task, lass?”
“Yes. I am sure.” What did she want me to do, write it in blood or something?
On cue, I felt a prick on my third finger.
“Ow!” I yanked my hand. “What did you just do?”
“Och, tis only a wee scratch, nothing ta worry yer little head over.”
Blood dripped from my finger onto the ground. “I’m bleeding.” I tried to pull my hand away again.
“Not so fast, little lassie.” She was overly excited; her breath was coming out in rushed hitches as she continued to squeeze my hand.
My fingers were going numb.
“Now, that ye have spilled yer blood…”
“I didn’t spill my blood…you did….”
She waved away my answer with her free hand. “Och, do ye want a Highlander for yer verra own or no?” She hitched up her brow and it disappeared under the patterned scarf tied around the top of her head.
“Of course, I do.”
“With yer selfless offering of yer own blood, on this day, we now have a binding deal.”
She released my hand.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly…”
She didn’t seem to hear me.
Cackling merrily, the gypsy broke into a little jig, dancing in circ
les around me. Arms flapping, shuffling her feet, the stacks of bracelets on her arms made a jangling sound. She lifted her skirts and swung them back and forth. Without missing a beat, she hooked her arm through mine; then whirled me back and forth in each direction before she started a little do-si-doe move on her own.
It was the most bizarre thing I had ever seen. Before she drew my blood, the woman looked like she was going to keel over at any moment, not now though. Now, she was as spry as ever, which made me wonder as to why she would act in such a way.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to ponder that question for very long because when she stopped dancing, she rounded on me. Hands placed on her hips, she walked circles around where I stood, like she was sizing me up for something.
“Good, good.” She patted my body affectionately, which kind-of felt more like a frisking at a police station.
“Yer a plump one, aren’t ye lass?” She smacked my behind with a surprisingly amount of force, pitching me forward.
Rubbing my bottom, I frowned down at her. She reminded me of the wicked witch from Hansel & Gretel, and I was the unwitting victim about to be tossed in the oven for her dinner.
“So what of it?” I asked feeling riled.
“Oh, not ta worry.” She waved her hand dismissively in the air. “Strapping Highlanders like their woman folk wit a bit o’ flesh on them. So ye will do jes fine.”