Shagging with Kieran Kramer

What else would you expect on the Dark Walk of Vauxhall Gardens? ;) But it's not quite what you think. The Vixens are delighted to welcome back Kieran Kramer, who has generously offered a choice of one of her backlist books, WHEN HARRY MET MOLLY, DUKES TO THE LEFT OF ME, PRINCES TO THE RIGHT,or CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MARRIAGE to one commenter. Read Kieran's hilarious account of her International Incident, and then tell us what you like best about Scottish-set romances for a chance to win! Here's Kieran:

My next book is set in the Highlands of Scotland--IF YOU GIVE A GIRL A VISCOUNT. The hero is an Englishman, and the heroine is Scottish. I lived in Scotland for a year in college, dated a Scotsman the whole time, had a job pulling pints of ale at the university pub--stayed there rather than travel to the Continent the way a lot of American students did during breaks--and in general, felt like a Scottish nationalist by the time I left (e.g., even though I'm half-English myself and am an avid Anglophile, occasional thoughts such as, "Oot wid ye, ye bluidy English!" would hit me, especially when I stood on Culloden fields).

At any rate, I know my Scotland really, really well. Which is why I purposely kept my references to it in the book low-key. The last thing I wanted was to make a caricature of a country that had come to be my second home and still has a piece of my heart. So VISCOUNT has its loch, castle(s), salmon, deer stalking, and kilts, but my characters' shouldnae's, dinna's, and och,aye's are kept to a minimum, LOL!

But let me tell you a good Ugly American story that happened to me when I was a brand new student there. My first night at the University of Strathclyde, I went to a dance. I was a brazen American lass, you see, so when I saw a good-looking crowd of Scottish boys who appeared straight out of the 1950's, with white T-shirts rolled up at the sleeves and worn blue jeans, I thought the sight completely charming. You see, in America at the time, the preppy look was all, especially where I live in the South. Guys back home were layering pink Oxfords and Izods, sporting khaki pants with little whales on them, and in general, being posers.

So these raw, rugged adorable Scotsmen in their vintage 50's garb really caught my eye. Oh, and I think it wasn't actually 50's to them? It was more punk. But I was too unworldly (which is a nice way to say stupid) to know that.

So anyway, I went up to them, smiled, and said, "Oh. My. Gosh! They're playing 'Miss Grace!'"

They didn't seem to be aware that this was the ultimate shagging song in Charleston, SC, which is the ultimate shagging capital of the world after Myrtle Beach. You dance with a beer in one hand and bee-bop along, your other hand clinging to the hand of your dance partner, and together you look all wholesome and bouncy.

These guys in Glasgow all just stared at me.

They weren't wholesome and bouncy!

And then I said it. I said the stupidest thing in the world. But you have to give me a break--Austin Powers did not exist at this time. The movie was a mere twinkle in Mike Meyer's eye. So being the Ugly American, I had no idea that what I was about to say would be so very wrong:

"Would any of you like to shag?"

Yeah. What you think happened happened.

I was the laughingstock of the evening. Oh, you should have seen those boys fall over each other!

But a really good thing came of it. At the end of the evening, one of the boys was behind me on the stairs and he kept saying, "Hey, jimmy! Hey, jimmy!" And I stopped and said, "Who's Jimmy?"

And he said, "You."

(I later found out that was a pretty rough thing to call a girl--we were usually beckoned by the word hen if someone didn't know us. But hell, I like jimmy better.)

So then the guy--Alastair--and I started dating. I'd never met a boy named Alastair. Plus, he was tall and cute. AndthenImethisbestfriendandstartedatinghiminstead--

I'm, um, a wee bit ashamed of that, which is why I made it hard for you to read, but give me another break. Love is war. Love stinks. Or sucks, or whatever the saying is. And Alastair's best friend and I were an item the entire year, and I had the most amazing, splendid, glorious Scottish romance you can imagine! Or not imagine. Maybe you're not sure what one would look like.

Well, I'm not gonna tell. There are some secrets a girl keeps. Forever.

But to this day, all these years later, when I'm happily married to a wonderful American man who has gifted me with 22 of the best years of my life, I still have to say that my year in Scotland is one big reason I'm a romance writer. I learned a lot about passion--not just romantic passion, but all kinds of passion. I learned about standing up for myself and about being open to new adventures. Which is why I had to set an Impossible Bachelor book there.

So, cheers, Daisy and Charlie! Cheers to Robbie Burns and his beautiful poems, several of which are featured in the story. And cheers to anyone whose 'heart's in the Highlands.'

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Cheers to you, Kieran! Here's the clever book trailer for If You Give a Girl a Viscount:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4YLobfKztY