Saturday, 29 September 2012

Guest Post by Michelle Stuart

The darling Michelle Stuart (@2_Cheeky on twitter) has kindly added her two cents to the eternal discussion: Why DO we love Aiden MacRae? Your thoughts?

What can I say about Aiden Macrae? What do you say about a gorgeous, buff man in a kilt, with long flowing hair, calling you Lass and Mon Cherie in a Scottish accent? I mean , I am shedding clothes just thinking about him. Aiden is everything you always wanted in a man all rolled into one juicy, sexy, oh my kind of guy! The story of Aiden and Lindsey gives me reason to believe in true love, even if I have to wait for the afterlife to find it. The creativity of Cyndi Tefft is nothing short of brilliant- but enough about Cyndi, let's get back to Aiden! I fell for Aiden immediately upon reading Between .He is a man who had the body of a God, the hair of Fabio, the mind of a scholar, the patience of a saint, a love that is never ending, and to top it all off he hadn't had sex in 300 years! I mean how perfect can one man be? I mean seriously, 300 years of pent of sexual frustration? I am so in!  

Why do you love Aiden, Books or Scotland? Leave it in the comments below.

Friday, 28 September 2012

Cyndi Tefft in Florida: It's Official!

It was confirmed earlier this week that everyone's favourite Cyndi Tefft will be a feautred author at the 'Olde Ctiy, New Blood' convention in Saint Augustine, Florida from February 8th-10th 2013 (sponsored by Entangled Publishing among others). It's a weekend celebrating authors, bloggers and the readers who love them all in one convenient, luxerious place. Events include: ghost tours, ScyFy movie bashings via twitter and a charity signing featuring many authors (though Cyndi isn't scheduled to attend that, it would still be worth it to go).

Registration is $40 for the whole weekend and gets you into all fo the panels, the signing and the meet and greets scheduled with the authors. You can also buy tickets for the walking or riding ghost tours for half the regular price of the tours (though they are selling out fast).

They've booked a block at the St. Augustine Beach Front Resort where the convention is being held so you should definitely book through them. You can find more information here. The room does hold four people so if you are attending alone, try and find some friends in the comments section here or on that site.

The list of bloggers and authors is forever changing so check back every so often.
Let us know in the comments below if you plan to go and if you do, be sure to spread the virus - I mean word - about Aiden's Angels!

Saturday, 22 September 2012

Guest Post by AllieSJay

I asked my dear friend Alex Johns (most of you will know her as @AllieSJay) to write a short article about why she loved Aiden MacRae and she was a little too giddy when it came to writing. What little things endear you to out lovely Aiden MacRae? Leave your comments below.

Aiden MacRae. Sweet, lovable, sexy, charming, and maddening as hell Aiden MacRae. Sigh. Ok I need to get it together I’m supposed to be writing a post about Aiden here not drooling all over my keyboard.  Mr. MacRae tends to have that effect on us fan girls. Wink, wink. Normally I would start off a post by telling you all a little about the character I’m discussing but since this is a fan site and by that logic we have all read the books so I’m just going to skip that part and go right into the good stuff.
                                `                     Little Things that Make Aiden So Adorable
 His accent. Dear lord in Heaven, I have had to put up with some pretty terrible accents while reading books and had almost sworn them off completely until a certain Scot came along. Aiden’s accent is cute, sexy and pretty darn hilarious at times. It’s easy to understand what he’s saying and still get a feel for how he says it. Don’t believe me? I’ve got proof.
“Weel, hallo there,” he said in a thick accent… He threw his head back and laughed—a rich, joyous sound that bounced off the water… “Aye, that I am, indeed. Aiden MacRae of Eilean Donan. Very pleased to be meeting you.”
His kilt. I never knew kilts could be so sexy. Yes, I’ve seen a man in a kilt before but no one has been able to sway me to team kilt quite like Aiden MacRae has. Look at this quote and tell me it didn’t change your whole outlook on kilts. Go on, I dare you.
I’d never seen a guy in a kilt before but I had to admit I really liked it. My gaze traveled up his bare calves and over his back. His muscles flexed as he bent to arrange the twigs and limbs for the fire. The kilt covered his legs at one moment, then revealed them anew as he stood up…I suddenly remembered the saying that Scots don’t wear anything under their kilts and pushed back a crazy impulse to see for myself.
I mean seriously how could you not love kilts after that?
 His complete and utter shock when he found out just how we girls in the 21st century dress. This was one of my favorite little things about him. It was so hilarious whenever he would remark on how indecent it is for girls to walk around in shorts and a tank top; and his complete seriousness when he pondered on whether they were whores or not left me in stiches.  You’ve got some catching up to do in the fashion department Mr. MacRae, three hundred years is a lot of fabric to cover. Although, I’m sure Lindsey would be more than happy to educate you. Insert sly wink here.
Well there you have it. These are just a few things that make Aiden MacRae oh so adorable in my eyes. I wanted to keep it light and fluffy. If I didn’t I don’t think I would have ever finished this post. There is just way too much to love in that one man. I hope all you angels enjoyed it and now I present you with some tasties of guys in kilts.  Enjoy .   


Disclaimer: I don’t own either of these photos they were found through the power of Google. Also all quotes come directly from Between written by Cyndi Tefft.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

The Indie Elite Article

If you haven't read the Between series by Cyndi Tefft, you are missing out on the hunky Scottish reaper, Aiden MacRae. Aiden has spent the last three hundred years transporting souls to heaven while he waits for the one whose love will redeem him. When he meets Lindsey, he knows the time has come, but heaven is calling her away. Will their love be strong enough to transcend all boundaries?

Fans of the series call themselves Aiden's Angels and they now have their own fan site complete with reader-created trailers, fan fiction, and a link to Aiden's Angels merchandise! How cool is that? Aiden also has his own Twitter account and Facebook page. He's one busy reaper!
This makes it official Angels, we're awesome. Check out the rest of the article here -->
And be sure to check out Heather McCorkle here --->
And while we're on the subject of articles about hunky Scottish men, I am looking for some Angels to write some articles for me. They'll be featured here, on my blog, on Cyndi's blog (hopefully) and a bunch of other magical places on the internet. If you have reviews of either Between or Hell Transporter please let me know where I can find them. If you have some ideas for other topics pertaining to Writing, Scotland or why it is you love hunky Scottish men then send me a comment, tweet, facebook message, e-mail, skywrite or shout if you live in the Canadian area and we'll begin a dialogue. In the meantime, stay fancy and never wear underwear under your kilt. Ta!

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Angels on Goodreads

Angels we now have a group on Goodreads. You can join here!

Now that group won't just be for talking about our love for the salacious Scotsman, we can also talk about book you love, your love of writing or Scotland or anything in relation to that. Go crazy my darlings. Go wild.

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Review of Between

Review of Between by: Lexcade

Rating: Yay!

As a courtesy, I must be up front with you. I talk to Cyndi on Twitter, and I did kind of help reveal her new cover on my personal/quasi-professional blog a while back. Also, I’m counted as one of #AidensAngels. So that’s my being up front with you now. It isn’t to say that my review is going to be one major squeal fest. I can still keep a level head and maintain objectivity.


Love Aiden MacRae? Submit your photos, videos, stories etc. to and it'll end up here on this site. If you've submitted photos to Cyndi on her site please comment with your permission so I can post them on here (I'll be getting in touch with as many of you as possible but just in case I miss you).
Thanks mo chridhe,

Adult Scenes


THE BEACH SCENE by Cyndi Tefft

He scooped me up in his arms like he was going to carry me across the threshold and walked slowly toward the beach, his eyes full of emotion and passion. I clung to him with my arms around his neck as the water fell away and he lay me down gently on the sand. He stood before me, dripping wet and erect, and my whole body shivered with desire. I reached my arms up to him, wanting to hold him against me and he knelt between my legs, shaking his head.

“No, not yet, love. I want to look at you. Gracious, you are so beautiful.” He stroked my cheek with his hand and I turned my face into his palm, my body moving against the sand. “Mmmm, your breasts are so bonnie. I cannot keep my eyes off them.”

He slid his hand down my neck and cupped one breast, his thumb circling the nipple, pink and erect. He leaned forward and took it in his mouth and I arched my back to meet him, my legs squirming against his thighs. He suckled my nipple then drew his tongue across my chest to the other. I moaned at his touch, grabbing fistfuls of sand and letting them go, again and again. He made a deep sound of pleasure and sat back up again, his hand resuming its inventory of my body.

“Your stomach is so soft and feminine, with a perfect tiny navel. Your hips…” he grabbed them with both hands and my body twitched reflexively, nearing desperation. “Ah, your hips make me insane with desire. I want so badly to grab hold of them and take ye like a wild stallion.” My head was rolling from side to side in the sand and my whole body was writhing at his words, pleading moans coming from my lips. He smiled at my reaction and continued on, taking his time.

“And this…” his hand moved slowly over my pubic hair and one finger slid inside me, “…this is all I can think about day and night, wanting to feel the hot wetness inside ye.” I gasped and my eyes rolled back in my head, my body twitching and jerking in response. A tortured groan came from my throat.

“Aiden… please,” I begged.

One corner of his mouth curled up in satisfaction and he lowered his body on top of mine. I grabbed onto him like a lifeline and ravaged his mouth with mine, my sandy hands raking up and down his back wildly. “I can’t wait one minute more to have ye, my love” he whispered huskily in my ear, and then thrust his hips hard against me, pressing himself up inside me.

“Oh, heavenly God” he breathed and I gasped out loud with the force of his entry.

I rocked my hips up to meet him, moving back and forth with him as the waves licked our feet and caressed our legs. Heat scoured my skin as I burned with passion for him, his lips on my neck, his breath in my ear. I kneaded the muscles in his shoulders and back, my mind blurring with desire as our bodies thrust together in rhythm with the waves.

I could hear the light strains of music drifting down from the cabin and the wind rustling through the trees as we made love on the sand. A red flush blossomed on the top of my breasts as an intense tingling sensation built up in my stomach and legs. I pressed him hard to me, bucking my hips against him, and he moaned with pleasure. I gripped his lower back, digging my fingernails in to stop his movement and I let out short, successive gasps as an electric spasm rippled up and down my body.

He held me close, his eyes full of fire as he watched me and when I relaxed in his arms, he thrust one more time and flung his head back, his eyes pressed tight as his body jerked and convulsed against me. His face showed something between pleasure and pain, and I completely understood in a way I’d never known before, sore and satisfied myself. When he finished, he crumpled on top of me, his head against my chest, breathing hard, and I ran my sandy fingers through his hair.

“Oh my love, ma chérie, mo chridhe.” The words were tumbling out of him as we lay there panting, our bodies twitching with aftershocks. I was completely spent, physically and emotionally, lying there in the sand with Aiden in my arms, and yet I had never felt more alive and in love than at that moment. I kissed his forehead and his breathing slowed to a deep, satisfied rhythm, and he rolled onto his side next to me.

“You are amazing, my bride. I cannot even describe what your body does to me.” He propped himself up on one elbow and smiled down at me with half-closed eyes. He ran a sandy finger down the length of my body from my neck to my knees and I returned his dreamy smile.

“Oh, I think I know.”

He grinned at that, chuckling softly and lay back on the sand. I nuzzled up under his arm with my head on his chest and curled my leg around him, and we lay there talking and touching in the sand until the stars came out.



From the final YA version of Between:

He raised his eyebrows at me but said nothing, one arm coming around my waist to steady me in case I needed it. I brushed it away haughtily and threw one leg over his lap, grabbing his linen shirt in my fist. I pulled him to me fiercely, my mouth insistent and demanding, and his arms closed tight around me. I held onto his hair with my free hand and jerked his head to the side as we kissed madly. He ran his hands up my bare legs to the hem of my shorts, then over my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh. A drunken lust pulsed through me. Pulling away from his kiss, I gasped for air in the stifling heat of the room.

“I need to cool off. I feel like I’m on fire,” I said. My legs were a little shaky as I stood up and he reached out to help me.

“Lindsey, we really—” he started to say but I cut him off.

“Ooh, I have an idea. Let’s take a shower together!” I ran my fingers down his chest and proceeded to tell him in explicit terms exactly what I intended to do to him once we got there. He stiffened at hearing my suggestive words, a war of excitement versus propriety taking place in his eyes. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to the couch.

“That sounds delicious, don’t get me wrong, but I think maybe you’d best sit down instead.” He lifted me onto his lap and encircled me in his arms. His chest shook with silent amusement beneath me.

What’s so funny?

And now the deleted scene:

He raised his eyebrows at me but said nothing, one arm coming around my waist to steady me in case I needed it. I brushed it away haughtily and threw one leg over his lap, sitting down and grabbing his linen shirt in my fist. I pulled him to me fiercely, my mouth insistent and demanding, and his arms closed tight around me. I held onto his hair with my free hand and jerked his head to the side as we kissed madly, ignited in passion. He growled deep in his throat and ran his hands up my bare legs to the hem of my shorts, then over my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh with immediate need. I could feel him hard and ready through his kilt as I sat on his lap, my head throbbing with an all-consuming drunken lust. I pulled away from his kiss, gasping for air in the suddenly stifling heat of the room.

“I need to cool off. I feel like I’m on fire.” I was a little shaky as I stood up and he reached out to help me. This time, I didn’t brush his hand away, but held it in my own as I regained my balance.

“Ooh, I have an idea.” I grinned at him wickedly as an intriguing vision came to mind. I led him by the hand out of the living room and through the kitchen into the cool evening air. I pulled him behind me into the detached bathroom and reached into the open shower stall, turning on the cold-water spigot. He glanced with interest at the showerhead but was quickly distracted as I stripped off his shirt and undid his belt, my hand closing around him firmly. He groaned and deftly unbuttoned my blouse the rest of the way, slipping it over my shoulders. He cursed in frustration, though, as he struggled to remove my bra. I giggled and reached behind me to undo the clasp and peel it off. He yanked my shorts and panties down over my hips in one fluid motion and pulled me to him, his tongue darting back and forth as he kissed me.

Stepping backward into the cold spray of water, I pulled him with me, gasping as the icy stream ran over our steaming naked bodies. I grabbed a bar of soap from the dish and lathered it over his chest and down his stomach. His hands slipped over my soapy breasts, teasing the nipples into sudsy peaks. He growled something in Gaelic and hiked me up against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist as he entered me in one hard stroke. The skin of my back and buttocks squeaked against the tiled wall as we made frantic love in the shower. Water pooled between our sweaty, slippery bodies and flowed over my breasts in waves as he thrust against me. I raked my fingernails down his back and over his shoulders in a wild, mindless passion, biting his ear and swearing loudly, egging him on with lewd comments. He responded in guttural French, his pace quickening as I gripped his shoulders to stay upright, my fingers pressing into his hard muscles.

My head was full of whisky and fever and my body quaked with the force of his penetration. He stopped suddenly, holding me tight and jerking against me with a deep moan of pleasure. I slid to the ground in a sopping mass as he released me, and he reached over, turning off the water. I squeaked in surprise as he hoisted me up over his shoulder and carried me back into the cabin, dripping wet.

“You’ve a mouth on you like a sailor, ye sassy wench, and I’ve a mind to tan your arse with my belt to teach you a lesson. But I think you’ll bide a different punishment instead.” My head wobbled against his slick back.

Punishment? I asked in my mind and he responded with a grunt of satisfaction. Kicking the mushroom-capped footstool out of the way, he plopped me down on the armchair next to the warm fire. He knelt before me and pulled my legs up over his shoulders, then bent to his work with focused determination.

“Oh…” I moaned as he suckled me, my body writhing against him, the intensity of the sensation more than I could bear. He flatly ignored my whimpers and pleading, grabbing my butt firmly so that I could not wriggle free of his relentless mouth. I felt as if my head would explode. Seizing his hair in my fists, I coughed out incomprehensible pleas in between gasps, not sure if I wanted him to stop but knowing he wouldn’t anyway. The intensity built up in my stomach and between my legs as my body shook uncontrollably. A cry slipped from my lips as I climaxed in a wave of contractions against him. He slowly dropped my legs from his shoulders and I lay on the chair, damp and quivering, my breath coming in uneven gulps.

He retrieved the footstool and sat down across from me, his hand lightly tracing my thigh. My breathing slowed and I smiled dreamily at him.

“Ok, you win. Now I really can’t stand up.” He grinned and lifted me out of the chair, holding me upright for a moment as he cast a fresh set of dry clothes for us, him in his kilt and a lightweight nightgown for me. He gathered me in his arms and moved to the couch, settling me in his lap and stroking my now dry hair. I leaned my head against his chest and felt the strength flow out of him and into me like air that moved between us. I could feel his chest shaking slightly with silent amusement and pulled back to look at him.

What’s so funny?


THE CABIN SCENE by Cyndi Tefft

In the final YA version of Between, Aiden and Lindsey are sitting on the couch in the cabin when he tells her his most embarrassing moment. In the earlier adult version, she tells him hers: the day her bikini top came off when she plunged into the pool at a water slide park.

“So I was standing there in front of the entire crowd with my breasts out in the open for everyone to see.” I put my hands over my face, my cheeks burning hot. Aiden chuckled and gently pulled my hands down so I could see his face.

“Now that’s something I would like to have seen. Maybe ye can cast that for me sometime, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I squealed in protest and gave him a solid thwack on the arm, which only served to make him laugh harder. “What?” he asked. His eyes twinkled with mischief and then darkened as his gaze dropped to my chest. “I just happen to be very fond of them, ‘tis all.” He reached inside my robe and cupped one breast, moving his hand slowly back and forth over the smooth silk nightgown. When he leaned forward and kissed me, my embarrassment melted away like spun sugar on the tip of my tongue.

The warmth from the fire radiated throughout the room, and my own body temperature was rising at his touch. I remembered suddenly that I’d begun cutting up fruits and vegetables for our dinner and paused, breaking away to ask him if he was hungry.

“I’ve skipped to dessert now, haven’t I?” He trailed a finger across my collarbone and down to my nipple, circling the tight peak slowly as he devoured me with his stare. A coil tightened between my legs at the thought of his naked body against mine once again. I stood up and reached out a hand to him, feeling bold.

“Maybe you’d like to come to bed, then,” I said. He took my hand and wordlessly followed me up the stairs to the loft.

I switched on the table lamp next to the king size bed and a soft yellow glow filled the room, casting shadows under the eaves. The stillness of the room was so complete that I could hear the faint sounds of the lake outside, the waves lapping against the shore.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore. And I don’t have to fall asleep alone,” I said.

He stroked my cheek with his hand, tucking a curl behind my ear. “And ye never will again, my love.”

My heart soared as he kissed me and I pressed against him, loving the rough wool of his kilt against the smooth silk of my robe. I ran my hands over his arms and down his sides, then tugged at his shirt to try and free it. He took a step back and stood still, allowing me to undress him. I pulled the shirt over his head and ran my fingertips over the light dusting of blond hair on his chest. With fumbling hands, I unbuckled his belt while he watched me with heavy-lidded eyes. His kilt fell away freely and his sporran and dirk dropped to his feet. The sight of his naked body in the warm lamplight took my breath away.

God, he was so beautiful.

I drew my hands down his bare back and dug my fingers into his round, firm cheeks like I’d wanted to do since I first saw him in his kilt. He reached out a hand, lightly resting it on my shoulder, but otherwise stood still, patiently allowing me my turn to explore. I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed his neck, reveling in his masculine scent of wood smoke and pine. He tilted his head to one side and closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly. I massaged his shoulders and arms, enjoying the latent strength and breadth there, feeling safe and protected.

I leaned in and flicked my tongue over one of his nipples and his body jerked in response. His hand twisted in my hair as I closed my mouth on it and suckled lightly. A satisfied purr rumbled in his chest when I kissed my way down his stomach, and the thin line of blond hair running south from his navel. Holding on to his hips, I slowly dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth. I heard his sharp intake of breath and his hands reflexively gripped the sides of my head as I knelt before him. Pleased with his reaction, I squeezed his butt with my hands as I teased and pleasured him with my tongue. His legs began to shake as he stood before me, his labored breathing loud in the stillness of the room.

“Lindsey… Oh, Lord…” His moan was no more than a whisper.

I rose to my feet and met his gaze, his eyes blazing with lust and awe. He watched in trembling silence as I untied my robe and dropped it to the ground. I slid the thin straps of my nightie over my shoulders and the gown puddled at my feet in a wave of white silk, leaving me in only a pair of white lace panties. His voice was hoarse as he stared at them, his hands reaching out instinctively to touch my hips.

“What is that ye’re wearing?”

I remembered that I never had underclothes on when he cast my gowns or my shift, so I thought he might like them. “They’re lace panties. Do you like them?”

He fell to his knees before me as if in a trance, his hands running up my legs and around the curve of my hips, exploring the lace. “Do I like them? My God, woman, just when I think I canna possibly want ye more, ye show me something new and make me insane with lust.” His voice was deep and husky, his accent coming out thick. He ran his hands up underneath the back of my panties, cupping the swell of my behind, before he peeled them off.

A shuddering sigh slipped from my lips as he pressed his face between my legs, his tongue darting in and out. I held on to his shoulders as my body convulsed at the sensations that his mouth wringing out of me. Unable to stand the intensity, feeling lightheaded and shaky, I backed away from him.

He knelt before me, breathing hard and I shook my head, pulling him to his feet.

No. I need you… now.

I pressed my hands to his chest and forced him backward onto the bed, then crawled over his legs and sat astride him. His hands gripped my hips as I lowered myself onto him, taking him in, inch by inch. His eyes pinched closed in ecstasy and he rolled his head to the side as I rocked forward and back above him, running one hand over his chest. I could feel his heart racing and see his pulse in his neck as his hands wandered freely over my breasts and back.

“You are sae beautiful, my bride. Je t’aime, ma belle.”

Our lovemaking was slow and unhurried as we drank in the pleasures of each other’s body. He spoke to me in all three languages as we moved together, and I could not tell where I stopped and he began. When it was over, I lay in the circle of his arms, my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating in my fingertips.

“I love you,” I whispered and he replied the same, stroking my hair and kissing the side of my head. When I reached over and pulled the chain on the table lamp, moonlight filled the room with a bluish glow. I curled my leg over his and held onto him like I’d wanted to do every night before, and breathed a thankful sigh as I fell asleep next to my lover.
(submit your stories to

A Very Aiden Christmas

A Very Aiden Christmas: by Vicki Trask

It was our first Christmas together as a married couple – together, together; being married and in separate realms does not count – and part of me wanted to do something monumental and earth shatteringly incredible and the other part of me wanted to just curl up beside the fire and sleep through winter with my husband wrapped around me like a blanket. I mean this was out first Christmas together; the beginning of a lifetime of firsts: first Christmas together, first birthday together, first fight, first make-up, first child – maybe it was best not to touch that last one just yet. Christmas had to be special it was just a matter of how.

So we compromised.

We were spending the holidays in Scotland with his pseudo-family and my parents and they had collectively decided without us that we were having Christmas dinner all together as a family but the rest of it was left to us.

So we compromised.

There was a lot of time spent during the day wandering around the countryside exploring all the things that had changed since Aiden was last here and reveling in all the things that had magically stayed the same, like someone had placed saran wrap over the hills so they would grow and change but the overall breath of life and beauty was still there. Wandering around and soaking up the romance of Scotland naturally led to a lot of handholding and kisses and the only natural progress from that was snowball fighting – and no that's not a euphemism. After we were completely soaked – that could probably be a euphemism – we would come back to our room, dry off and sit on the couch while I introduced my wonderful husband to the world of cheesy Christmas movies.

Actually it was quite wonderful to watch with him; they held a new magic that I'd never seen before. It was like watching it with a small child whose eyes lit up at anything new or exciting. I loved him more for it.

I tried to stick to the classics since those were the ones I knew so it was a lot of 'White Christmas' and 'Miracle on 34th' and 'The Santa Clause' over and over until Christmas eve when appropriately enough, 'It's a beautiful life' came on and I snuggled further into his bare chest while he pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. It didn't even occur to me that talk of angels and death might be a bit of a sore spot until I saw Clarence but Aiden didn't even shift uncomfortably. He just watched and smiled when he should smile and remain silent when it was appropriate. I spent the movie half watching him and half watching poor Georgia convince the world that he wasn't crazy and that he deserved a second chance. Like I said; it was appropriate.

It wasn't until the little girl informed him that 'every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings' that he grew still, eerily still. So I shut off the movie as everyone in blank and white world were celebrating and waited for him to speak.

I didn't have to wait long.

"Do you think that's true?" He whispered "Do you think humans affect who becomes and angel and who…" he trailed off and looked at his faraway eyes. No; today was Christmas Eve and I would not let the past ruin my fun. I ran my hand up his chest and caressed his cheek, hoping my smile was all flash and no worry.

"You could try it out."

It worked – yes! – and his smile was small but at least it was there "aye we could but I dinah see any angels around except you."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too wide "are you asking to ring my bell?" I pushed up so he fell flat onto the couch. I would have laughed at the corny joke but he just gave me a blank expression, his face somber. "Never mind; it was a joke."

And just like that, the mood was serious and he was caressing my cheek like I was made of porcelain "Lindsey," the reverence of his voice in my mind, the sheer love and gentleness of his voice made my heart stop "I may not get every joke or reference in this new world but I know you and I know love and our love is as ancient and wonderful as the stars. And every time the angels try and interfere from this day forward, they won't succeed. I love you."

I was butter, I was worse than butter; I was the mist surrounding the melted butter having evaporated from the intensity and random perfection of that paragraph. God this man was wonderful. "You know, you don't give yourself enough credit." I propped my elbows on his chest and rested there, just staring at the naked affection in his eyes. "You know more about this world than you seem to think."

"Oh really?"

"Yup, you know just what to say to get into a girl's pants." I pressed my lips to his but pulled back just as fast. "You're a very smart man Aiden Macrae."

"Is that so?"

I hummed in recognition "and a smart man would take me to bed right now." I laughed out loud as he wrapped his arms around my waist, and stood from the couch with my body still wrapped around his, my feet barely skimming the floor.

"Well let me show you just how intelligent I can be."

He took careful steps all the way over to the bed, still holding me to him with a single arm, and dropped me on the bed, following suit right after. "Merry Christmas." I whispered as he leaned down, our eyes a breath away.

"Nollaig chridheil."
(Submit your stories to

After The Ball

After the Ball by Cyndi Tefft

After settling Lindsey into the feather bed, I trace my thumb across her cheek to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Her lips still bear a slight swelling from our kisses earlier at the palace where her boldness had surprised and delighted me. I’m seized by a mad urge to crawl into the bed and join her, but her sleepy eyes hold that impulse at bay.

“Sweet dreams, mo chridhe. I’ll be here when you wake. I promise you that much.” After pressing a light kiss to her forehead, I tear my gaze away and cross the room to the pallet I’d cast for myself beneath the window. I’ve never minded making my bed upon the ground before, but I can feel her eyes watching me, the weight of them like warm hands upon my skin. I turn away to hide the effect her presence has on my body, and struggle for a moment over how to best retire for the night.

Normally, I’d discard my kilt and strip down to my sark. The shirt comes almost to my knees—certainly long enough to maintain modesty in most circumstances. But with Lindsey mere feet away in naught but a thin shift, my desire would be far too evident were I to lie on the ground in only my sark. Still, I cannot take my rest fully clothed or she may ask about it, dissolving the restraint I’ve only barely got hold of.

Instead, I remove my sporran, dirk and shoes, then lower myself to the pallet and pull the sark off over my head. The slight intake of breath from across the room that accompanies the baring of my flesh sends a spike of need through me. Aye, keeping the kilt in place was indeed the right choice. I swallow hard.

With my eyes closed, I listen to her breathing as it eventually becomes slow and even. Just when I expect a gentle snore to signal the depths of her sleep, an unexpected sound floats across the room.


Curious, I sit up and peer at the bed, but I’m not able to see properly, so I get to my feet. The breathy, guttural sound of Lindsey’s humming vibrates in the stillness of the moonlit room. I recognize the waltz played by the orchestra at the ball. Suddenly, her arms fling out wide to either side and she twists in the bed, sending the blankets cascading to the floor.

She’s dancing in her sleep.

Mesmerized, I watch her, taking shallow breaths myself lest I break her trance. Her lips curve up in a delicious smile and my heart clenches at the sight. My tongue passes silently over my own lips, longing to taste her again, to feel her mouth move against mine.

“Aiden...” She breathes my name, though her eyes remain closed.

I can’t help myself. I take a chance. “I’m here, love,” I reply and hold my breath, waiting.

Her dreamy smile grows. “Dance with me, silly. What are you doing clear over there?” Her fingertips twitch as though she’s beckoning me across the hall into her arms. Kneeling at her bedside, I lower my hand into hers until our palms touch. Heat from her skin travels up my arm and curls around my neck. A groan escapes my lips before I can catch myself.

She stills and for a moment, I fear the spell is broken, that my thoughtless sound was enough to disturb her. But then she curls into a ball on one side and tucks my hand close to her heart. The humming resumes and I breathe again, painfully aware of my fingertips nestled between her breasts.

Lifetimes pass as I watch her reliving our dance at the ball in her dreams. My prayers are unceasing and repetitive, an aching plea for mercy.

Sighing, she settles deeper into the mattress. “Don’t leave me, Aiden. Stay,” she says, the words a velvet blade to my soul.

“I promise, my love. I promise.” A hot tear lands on my outstretched arm between us, the first of many I know will come when she is torn from me at last.

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This is a fan-site dedicated to Aiden MacRae and the Angels who love him. We first met Aiden in 2011 with Cyndi Tefft's novel 'Between' where he played the galant, romantic hero (with the gorgeous accent) to Lindsey Waters our female protagonist trapped between life and death. It's impossible not to fall in love with this man and it was impossible not to exploit the internet to express that love. This is site is created without the association of Cyndi Tefft (though we certainly hope she likes it); join the Aiden's Angels!