The girls at the Author Roast and Toast welcome Janice Horton, author of Bagpipes and Bullshot!
"By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie raids, as the sun shines high on Lock Lomund!" Mary and Lyn sing at the top of their lungs as the four sister hostess trudge through fields of Heather and hills of geen in beautiful Scotland.
"You girls are killing that song and neither one of you could sing to save your life!" Sharon laughs, and Mary sings all the louder. "Oh Danny boy the pipes the pipes are faaa-ling. From glen to glen and down the mountainside. Oh come on back when sunshine hits the meadow oooooo, and when the bees are changing back to green."
"You three are slow as molasses. Do I need to carry you or what?" Patsy flexes her Popeye arms. "I could do it.
"You'd be better off finding more material to cover the top Mary is wearing and look, Lyn has taken off her shoes and she is crossing that stream, she is walking on water her feet are like flotation devices."
Lyn gives Mary a frown and then lifts one eyebrow as she uses her toes to flick water at her laughing friends.
"Gottcha," she giggles. Mary and Patsy duck so the water hits Sharon on her bubble butt. "Heck she don't even feel it with all that padding." Mary gasps her mouth open in shock.
"If Oliver were here he'd be nauseous! The singing is that bad!" Sharon chuckles. "How far to this Highland Gathering any how?"
Mary stops singing and the animals peek out of their hiding places.
Nibby, Cuddles and Hampy are all wearing little Tam o'shanters.
"Janice says it's over the hill, I feel over the hill. We've walked a lot of hills and I see nothing. No tents, no people, no food, no nothing. AAAAnnnnddd! She said to watch out for the bog! Bog! What the heck is that?"
Lyn flecks a bit of thread off her tartan. All three are dresssed in different red tartans. Each one for the bit of Scotland in each of them. Patsy's white sleeves discreetly cover her muscled arms and Sharon's skirt is a graceful crinoline style to accommodate her curvaceous posterior.
"I'm getting hot in this thing and it's sticking to my butt." Sharon complains. "Yeah, well I'm sweating too." Patsy wipes her face with the end of her tartan, muscular arms flexing. Lyn titters as she sees the wonderful castle where they will stay this weekend she grins. "Wow! What a place. Just look at the flags and stuff!"
"Look there's Oliver!" Patsy yells excitedly. "Is he wearing anything under that outfit?" Patsy blurts out and looks at Sharon. "Just wondering."
Mary, Lyn and Sharon, eye one another before smiling at Patsy's exuberence!
"Ask him." Sharon smirks and walks down to the huddle of guests hovering over Oliver's food. Mary, Lyn and Patsy look at one another crack up laughing and run after Sharon.
Haggis, smoked salmon, seafood from the Loch, clootie dumpling, meats, (including Scottish beef) shortbreads. etc., and a special Scottish cake fill the tables to overflowing. Kippers, tatties and herring, Finnan haddie, Rollmops, Lamb, beef, Oatcakes, scones, cranachan, crumpets, even something called Festy cock.
"Behave Mary. Don't say a thing." Sharon warns, "Ah here she is."
Janice Horton, stunningly beautiful in her own Scottish gown, flows up to them, looking like something out of a Scottish fashion magazine.
"When can we wear one of those." Patsy asks, eyes wide as she looks at Janice's dress.
"Have some Bullshot girls." Janice offers each of the four hostesses "You'll love it, it's like a Scottish bloody Mary."
"If I drink that even those guys will look good to me." Mary eyes the elder warriors in their tartens. Her eyes widen and she gasps as she grabs Patsy, Lyn and Sharon, and points to four young Scottish men, muscular and muscles bulging as they exercise with their clanging swords.
Oliver stands sexy as ever in his kilt. "They are all dressed in kilts and Oliver knows all of them." Lyn exclaims.
"Look, I can see the hill we were supposed to walk over. You took us in circles Lyn!" Sharon tries to get to Lyn and Mary holds her back. "Sharon, I'm shocked, you're acting like me!"
Sharon finally sees the hunks Mary is talking about and smiles, "Welcome everyone to our Highland Fling! Drink, eat, dance and let the bagpipes begin!"
The sound of bagpipes fills the air and the girls run to watch the warriors dance. Each one stepping faster and faster as his foot crosses over the swords.
Bagpipes and Bullshot what a story!
Who knows the words to Lochlomund or Danny Boy? Come sing along with us! And feel the Highlands that harbor a misty glen and a handsome Scottish hero. Is that sheep I see?
Janice is deep in conversation - look she's giving him her recipe for Bullshot!
Bullshot is a drink very much like a Bloody Mary. If you prefer, you can use vodka, but the traditional Scottish version and the one favoured by the characters in my novel, Bagpipes & Bullshot, has whisky in it. However, if you are planning a trip across the grouse moors later or doing a bit of stalking on the hill, you’ll certainly need your thermos and the extra ingredient of hot beef stock with your bullshot. Mmmmm….warming. So take a whisky tumbler and put in it a bit of ice and a slice of lime. Then add a good measure of finest Scotch whisky. Fill to the top with tomato juice; add a good dashing of both Tabasco pepper sauce and Worcester sauce and half a teaspoon of grated horseradish. Stir and enjoy. Mmmmm…delicious!
Before we all settle down for the food and fun, let's hear more about Janice's fantstic book, Bagpipes and Bullshot.
Blurb
Bagpipes & Bullshot twists an everyday love story with a whole cast of village eccentrics into an entertaining play on rural life. Humour and romance in a Scottish setting.
An Exerpt from Bagpipes & Bullshot:
Fergus took a walk over to Davina’s house with a picnic basket containing two hardboiled eggs, two pork pies, a jar of pickles and a bottle of sparkling pink wine. It was a celebration picnic. In his pocket, he also had a very special something he had received in the post that morning, which he hadn’t yet shown to anyone. He wanted Davina to see it first.
The mist was clearing the turrets of McKenzie Castle as he approached the long driveway. He stopped to pick the last of the late summer flowers from the border. Pink orchids, which he decided were the exact colour of Davina’s smooth skin. Tiny sprigs of speedwell in the exact shade of her beautiful eyes. He wound them together into a posy with a strong stem of grass and popped them inside the picnic basket. He’d read in one of his mother’s magazines that girls loved men who brought them food and flowers.
He found her grooming a magnificent horse at the back of the house where the stable block was as beautiful as she was. She was wearing slim-fitting black jodhpurs and a pale-lemon sweater. Her hair was neatly pulled back into a short pony tail and she looked, to all intents and purposes, like a bright ray of sunshine in an otherwise grey sky. ‘Hello Davina,’ he said.
She looked at him with a raised brow and then, lowering her eyes, she spotted the picnic basket. ‘Hello. How are things, Fergus?’
‘Things are fine,’ he replied.
This was progress. She had asked about him before mentioning Innes.
‘How’s Innes?’
‘Innes is – busy.’
‘I know he’s busy. What’s he busy with. Has he got his cows yet?’
‘No. Not yet. He’s busy with this and that.’
The speedwell-blue eyes narrowed. ‘Really. Just one cow then?’
Fergus’s eyes widened.
Davina dropped the grooming brush. ‘I mean cowgirl of course a mere slip of the tongue.’
‘It’s a lovely day for a picnic,’ Fergus enthused, waggling the basket in a way he hoped might be tempting. ‘What do you say?’
‘What an absolutely lovely idea. I’m famished.’
Fergus was thrilled.
‘I’ll saddle up Misty for you and we’ll ride up over the hill.’
Fergus hesitated. He hated horses. Horses hated him. He had learned to ride on a wooden rocking horse and had been shocked to find out that real ones had hidden agendas. ‘Why don’t we just walk?’ he suggested nervously. ‘It’s a lovely day for a walk.’
‘Because if we ride we won’t have to carry the picnic basket ourselves and we can go further over the hill where no one can disturb us.’ Davina explained, almost playfully.
Suddenly wild horses couldn’t have stopped him. ‘Great, let’s go!’
They started up the hill at a slow pace for which Fergus was grateful but, when his horse bounced into an uncomfortable trot, he heard himself yelling, ‘whoa there - we don’t want to pop the cork too soon!’
‘Oh, you do spoil me!’ Davina gushed. ‘I do love champagne.’
Fergus then wondered, considering the occasion, if he should have chosen the Clicquot over the Cava.
When they reached the brow of the hill, the land levelled off and the ground was covered with soft moss and lichen. Large rocks anchored clumps of heather in a purple haze and on the carcass of an old fallen tree, they tied up their horses and laid out an old Buchanan tartan rug. They sat together. Fergus polished off the eggs and the pies and Davina drank the fizz.
‘It’s eleven and a half percent,’ he told her immodestly.
‘It’s very tart,’ she replied, swallowing it quickly. ‘Perhaps you should recommend it to Innes’s cowgirl?’
Links:
Bagpipes & Bullshot is also available on all other e-reader lists e.g. Apple, Sony, Kobo, Diesel, Barnes & Noble and others.
When I'm not writing novels I write lifestyle articles. I have had work published in national magazines and regional newspapers and I have also been involved in BBC Scotland's ‘Write Here Write Now’ project. I am an active member of several writers forums and also a proud member of the Romantic Novelist's Association. At the interactive reader/writer website loveahappyending.com I'm a Featured Author and Associate Editor.
I also love to Blog, Facebook and Tweet so why not 'like' my Facebook Page and pop over to my blog? The links are on the sidebar. My Facebook Page and Blog are updated regularly with lots of writerly chat, interesting links, and author interviews.
Janice Horton’s Blog: http://www.janicehortonwriter.blogspot.com
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