There was something about the Brigadoon-like Falgannon, something that kept most of its male inhabitants unwed. From Michael the Story to Callum the Bicycle--and we mustn't forget The Cat Dudley, the slyest poker-playing moggie in the Outer Hebrides--every male of the Isle had happiness dependent upon that of its Lady. So things had been since Pictish times, and so they would be long after the present day.

Despite her machinations, to this point B.A. Montgomerie had been unable to make her men happy. Her first marriage had been against their advice; her husband had been an Irishman, true, but he had failed to meet other necessary requirements...and things had ended badly. Now, another Irishman had come--and was making the natives restless. Yes, the men of Falgannon could sense Desmond Mershan's conquering Viking spirit and his desire for B.A.--which B.A. could sense herself. And while her men would never let anything happen that she didn't want, this Irishman had come to pillage and loot, and nothing was going to stop him. Staring into his vibrant green eyes, B.A. anticipated the battles to come.

REVIEW

Falgannon Isle is in the grips of an ancient curse placed on it by Sgathach Bnanand, Skye's Warrior Queen who cursed the isle while in a jealous rage after her lover left her with another woman and escaped into the shrouding mist of Falgannon. It states that only if the Lady of the Isle mates with an Outlander who has black hair, green eyes and is of Irish descent will any of the island's male population find true and lasting love. This curse would last for three generations. B.A. Montgomerie is on a mission to entice women to visit Falgannon Isle and hopefully fall in love with one of the two hundred thirteen single Scotsmen who currently live there. As the `Lady of the Isle' the men folk consider her off limits. B.A. had once been married, but her husband hadn't met all the conditions to break the curse - his eyes hadn't been green. Two years after their marriage, his plane went down in the North Atlantic leaving B.A. a widow. At the age of thirty-seven, B.A. would like to find love again, but first she plans to make sure that the men have every chance possible to find a mate. To aid in that purpose B.A. has set up a website which she hopes women will find intriguing enough to give the island and her braw lads a chance. Desmond Mershan invades Falgannon with an agenda of his own. He's been plotting for years to enact vengeance for injustices that had been done to his family in the past. While B.A. immediately senses that Desmond is deceiving her somehow, the other residents of the isle view him as the answer to the curse. He's got all the traits needed to fulfill the terms of the curse and ensure all of their happiness, if only B.A. would admit that she has feelings for him. There's no doubt that he's arrived on the isle to pillage and loot, but she has a bad feeling it's not her that he's after. With an island full of men desiring female companionship, B.A.'s website is the perfect way to attract women to the isle. It's set up as a dating service complete with profiles and an application. The men are able to select the women who interest them from the ones who apply. Of course, now that Desmond has invaded their island, the men are even more hopeful that this plan to bring women to the isle will work. After all, if their lady is finally mated to the man who will finally break the curse than their chances of finding love will be drastically increased. Will they be able to convince Desmond and B.A. to overlook their distrust of each other?

Deborah MacGillivray's THE INVASION OF FALGANNON ISLE is a delightful mixture of contemporary setting with historical Scottish brogues and mannerisms. There's even a little bit of kilt action here and there. I love the idea of this tiny isle somewhere that has the basics of modern conveniences but for the most part untouched by greed and mistrust that is so prevalent in today's society. Everyone on the isle has a descriptive tag added to their name in a bid to keep their identities straight. This is a book that I just know readers are going to love. Every single character has endearing characteristics that will endear them to you. You'll find yourself engrossed in the story and laughing at the antics of the Islanders, especially those of `The Cat Dudley' who has a personality all his own. Desmond and B.A. make a perfect couple, even though they do have obstacles to overcome. There's no doubt that if there is a curse their union will be it's undoing. This is the first book in Ms MacGillivray's SEVEN SISTERS OF COLFORD HALL series. I'll be anxiously awaiting the next book in this series: RIDING THE THUNDER which will contains B.A.'s sister Asha and Desmond's brother Jago's story.

Reviewed by: C. Dionne, avid reader, reveiwer.

EXCERPT

It was the third man--the one with the raven-black hair--who drew her eyes. If a Viking, he had Black-Irish blood in him coming through a female stolen in a long ago raid. Both blonds stepped to either side of the aisle to let him pass, a gesture of deference. Almost a head taller, they were physically dominating, but he was the power. B.A. sensed this clearly as if both men had gone down on one knee in obeisance. With a panther's grace he strode to the counter, then bent to set the Louis Vuitton duffle on the floor. B.A.'s breathing clutched, girding herself to confront the invader. Dizziness buzzed in her blood.

Then he raised up, meeting her stare...and everything stilled.

Not a blue of any shade, his eyes were pale green--warlock eyes--capable of freezing with the arch of his black brow. Lifting her chin, B.A. fought a frisson as they locked on her. Aware of the moggie pussyfooting on the countertop, he ran his hand along its spine.

The gesture triggered images within B.A., of that hand upon her body, stroking in the same sensual magic. A premonition? She blinked, loath to recognizing the prospect.

She was right--he was a bloody warlock!

The Cat Dudley arched under his hand, turned and head-butted his elbow for more pets. Turncoat, B.A. thought.

Security came in the fact the stranger looked nothing like Evian, B.A. assured herself as she appraised him. Quite healthy, no middle-age paunch hid under the expensive silk shirt and black leather jacket. Though probably in his early forties, most would judge him a decade younger. The lines bracketing his mouth gave him away, hinting at someone who'd lived longer and seen disappointments, hardening him.

Long black lashes were unblinking over the penetrating eyes. A feral stillness about him conjured the image of a panther, so beautiful, so compelling. She itched to reach out and stroke him as he did the cat. Self-preservation stayed her hand, fearful he'd strike in a wink. Outside of wavy blue-black hair, little about the invader evoked the memory of Evian. Her tension should ease seeing this man didn't resemble her dead husband; once more, she was safe, buffeted by the cocoon the island provided. She didn't have to feel, didn't risk her soul. How could any man reach through the wall she built for protection?

Inexplicably, alarmingly, this man did. He unnerved her, put her on the defensive. An air of mystery, of calculation, swirled in the jade eyes. Her fae sense whispered a warning his coming to the isle had something to do with her; he'd change her world if she permitted it. Din from the crowd abated as they watched the invader and 'their B.A.??' locked in a staring contest. It bordered on droll for neither of them to break the ice and speak first, but strangely, she held back, waiting...watching.