A dragon shifter stirs and wakens deep in the Scottish Highlands. His cave is the same and his hoard undamaged, yet something’s terribly amiss. Lachlan ventures above ground-and wishes he hadn’t. His castle is fully gone, changed by ungainly row homes. Men aren’t putting on plaids, and women scarcely wear anything at all, particularly the girl who accosts him with unseemly banter. What types of wench is usually she to gown so provocatively?

In Inverness for a year on the psychiatry fellowship, Dr. Maggie Hibbins watches an oddly outfitted man pick his way out of the thicket. He looks so lost-and so unbelievably, knock-out gorgeous-she takes a opportunity and stands him a meal. Lachlan’s shock when he accumulates a local paper is so palpable, Maggie jumps in with both feet.

The hard-to-accept truth bashes gaping holes in her equilibrium. He looks odd, sounds odd, acts odd because he’s a refugee from another era. Born of effective witches, Maggie runs headlong into the misconception and magic that are her birthright.