Can I just say this? I normally fucking hate Scottish romances. Between the incessant “och’s!” and “ye’s” and using the words “lass” and “Sassenach” in every other sentence, many historical romances set in Scotland tend to be pretty damn cheesy. (As an aside: Word is objecting to my use of “normally fucking hate” and is delicately suggesting that I change it to “normally am fucking,” “normally fuck” or “normally was fucking.” It says something about … Continue reading One Man’s Love by Karen Ranney →