Pamela Clare's Scottish Rangers Visit for Christmas

Did you buy your copy of Pamela Clare's new I-Team book, Striking Distance (Book #6, Laura Nilsson and Javier Corbray’s story), because I just did and I can't wait to sink my teeth into those pages this weekend!

Better yet, Pamela is visiting us today to share her Christmas novella, Upon A Winter’s Night: A MacKinnon’s Rangers Christmas Novella, which is based on her popular MacKinnon Rangers series. So get your copy of her new hot Scottish Historical Romance for some holiday happiness! Or comment for a chance to win a free copy from Pamela. Just tell us your best holiday gift ever and you'll be entered in the drawing!

How did Pamela answer that question?

"I can’t think of my best Christmas present ever, actually. I tried. I don’t care much for stuff, so it’s really the Christmases themselves I remember. Bubble Wrap Christmas (2008) was a good one. Both of my sons had been in very serious car accidents that yaer, so I told them that they were going to spend Christmas at my house wrapped in bubble wrap and that neither of them could go out that front door for three days. They obliged me, and we had a very cozy and close three days of Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the day after."


Reunite with the MacKinnon brothers and their wives for Christmas—and a tale of love, new life, and redemption.

The war between Britain and the French is finally at an end, and the MacKinnons are looking forward to celebrating their first peacetime Christmas in five long years. While Iain and Annie have discovered that the pleasures of marriage grow deeper with time, Morgan and Amalie find themselves at bitter odds. Meanwhile, Connor and Sarah have a newborn son to cherish.

The family’s preparations for the holidays are interrupted when Iain learns that Britain has not paid the Rangers for the summer’s victorious campaigns. Unwilling to let men who fought under the MacKinnon name suffer deprivation at Christmastime, Iain, Morgan, and Connor leave the warmth of their frontier farm for Albany. There, they find their happy Christmas, and even their freedom, at risk at the hands of a ruthless British officer who holds a grudge against them.

With the men gone, Annie, Amalie, and Sarah do their best to prepare for the festivities despite differing traditions, a raging bull—and the gnawing fear that their husbands won’t make it home for Yule.

Events begin the day after the epilogue of Defiant ends. The story includes Joseph, Killy—and revelations about the fate of Lord William Wentworth.


Iain had spent much of the evening discussing Killy’s news with his brothers, and they had decided to leave for Albany in the morning to take up the matter with Haviland in person, while Joseph and Killy stayed to watch over the women and children. Though Iain hated to leave home so close to Christmastide, neither he nor his brothers could abide the notion that the men who’d fought under the MacKinnon name for five long years should be denied their due and made to suffer want, especially at Christmas when lack was so keenly felt.

“Do you think Haviland will listen to you?” Wearing only her shift, a shawl around her shoulders, Annie sat in the rocking chair, brushing her long hair, the flaxen strands gleaming like gold in the firelight. “If he has no honor, what is to stop him from clappin’ the three of you in irons?”

She spoke the words calmly, but Iain could sense her fear. Her worries were not just fretful imaginings.

’Twas a journey to Albany almost six years past that had started all of this. Wentworth had watched Iain fight a man who’d been about to kill a whore he’d used but didn’t wish to pay. Impressed by Iain’s skill, Wentworth had taken Iain and his brothers prisoner on false murder charges. He’d given Iain a choice between being hanged together with his brothers or fighting for the British as the commander of a ranging company. Not wishing to see his brothers die for naught, Iain had chosen the latter.

He put more wood on the fire, then turned to his wife. “Haviland cannae press us into service, if that is what you fear. The war is over.”

“That doesna mean he willna find upon some other treachery. You ken as well as I that he doesna care for you or the Rangers.” Her strokes grew agitated, her hand gripping her silver-handled hairbrush tightly.

“Come, moleannan. I willna allow harm to befall us.” Iain took the brush from her hand, set it aside, and drew her onto her feet and into his embrace. He held her tight, kissed her hair, the feel of her precious in his arms. His gaze traveled from little Mara, who would soon be one year old, to Iain Cameron, soon to be two, and he silently cursed Haviland again. “I hate to be leavin’ you and the bairns so near to Christmas, but I must.”

Annie looked up at him, cupped his cheek with her palm, understanding in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “I knew you’d be goin’ the moment Killy told me. If there’s augh’ you can do to right this wrong, you must go. Your men are as kin to us. Their troubles are our troubles.”

Iain looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and wondered not for the first time how he’d been so lucky as to win her for himself. “If only I’d known sooner, this would already be behind us.”

Why had the men not told him?

Killy said the men thought Iain and his brothers already knew. But, although it was true that neither Connor nor Iain had received a farthing for last summer’s campaigns, they’d thought little of it. For one, they had no need of the coin, the farm more than prosperous enough to sustain the three brothers and their families. For another, Connor had spent part of the campaign season in irons, while Iain had been pressed back into service after the campaigns had already begun. They had assumed that Wentworth had cut off Connor’s pay and hadn’t had time to place Iain on the rolls before the Wyandot had taken him captive.

“Let us pray that all will quickly be set to rights and you’ll be safely home by Christmas Eve.” She turned her head to the side, rested her cheek against his chest, her slender arms holding him close.

He tucked a finger beneath her chin, ducked down, and brushed his lips over hers. “Will you send me away wi’ a proper farewell, wife?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “But Killy and Joseph are sleepin’ in the next room, and the children…”

He slid his fingers into her hair. “Then you'd best no’ scream, aye?”


USA Today best-selling author Pamela Clare completed her undergraduate degree in Classics at the University of Colorado-Boulder and went on to study classical archaeology in graduate school. She began her writing career as a columnist and investigative journalist and eventually became the first woman editor-in-chief of two different newspapers.

Along the way, she won numerous state and national honors, including the National Journalism Award for Public Service and the First Amendment Award. In 2011, she was recognized by the Colorado Chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists for her body of work, in particular her reporting on women in prison, with the Keeper of the Flame Lifetime Achievement Award.

A single mother with two grown sons, she writes historical romance and contemporary romantic suspense. She lives in her home state of Colorado in the shadow of the beautiful Rocky Mountains.
For more information about Pamela or her book series, visit


  1. There are so many wonderful Christmases that come to mind, but the most memorable is the year that my mom passed two days before Christmas. She had already gotten my children their presents and had them under the tree. So we had a somber Christmas but one that was light for the children.

    daringzoey at

    1. How heartbreaking! And how poignant to see your kids opening presents that your mother's hands had wrapped.

  2. When my daughter was 9 she asked Santa for a baby brother. I explained to her that Santa couldn't bring her that gift. In the Spring of the following year she hugged me and said "You have a baby in there." We didn't think I could have any more children so we were truly shocked to discover she was right. Her baby brother was born on Dec 30th. He will be 16 at the end of this month. Whenever he annoys her I remind her that she asked Santa for him :)

    1. That's an amazing story, Marcia. Sometimes you wonder if kids see things we don't. :-)

  3. Wow...I am very blessed so its hard to choose one "gift" as the best ever but..this year no one I love is sick, I have a job I love (I'm a teacher) and I have a new grand daughter. It doesn't get any better than that.

  4. Sorry I'm late chiming in. Lovely post, and your book sounds wonderful. I have been so blessed and had so many wonderful gifts in my life. Materialistically, I couldn't say for sure, but I would imagine it was something to do with Elvis Presley. :) Although, a few years ago, my best friend of 40 years bought us Bob Seger tickets for Christmas, and we'd wanted to see him for 40 years, LOL. So that was a pretty great gift. But, the best one of all was the birth of my son. (His name is Presley, BTW), and he'll be 21 December 11th. He is such a loving, precious kid. He's grown into an amazing young man, and I couldn't have crafted a better son if God had allowed me to create him myself.

  5. I love Christmas and don't need presents, but my sister remembers that in our childhood my favorite were a whole bunch of little accessory-type presents and she still sends me gloves, necklaces, hats, scarves, cute socks, skirts and I'm always so thrilled to open the pile of things she sends me.
    This year for Christmas I'm giving my 11 year old daughter tickets to Imagine Dragons (a rock band she LOVES!) and I' can't wait to see her face. Giving is the best.
    Great post, BTW. Thinking it's time for a little romance read over here.

  6. Okay, so best gift ever... my husband has given me some wonderful gifts, but like most of you, stuff doesn't matter to me too much. But when my working dog, Bo, died 2 years ago during the holidays I was crushed. I'd lost friends and family before, but this hurt in new ways. We don't have kids, unfortunately, so my dog was my child. Well, I wasn't doing well with the sadness and our house seemed empty, desolate. So Rob insisted I get out of bed and go with him to pick out a puppy. I still cry for Bo sometimes, but Tucker the puppy (he just turned 2) has been such a joyful experience he taught me to believe in miracles again. I learned the heart is tender, can be hurt when you love someone deeply (human or not), but can also heal. Thanks, Rob!