Synopsis "Highlanders Don't Smell Like Shower Hell"
“Your Scotsmen smell like supermarket shower gel.” Nieves Ruiloba has spent eleven years writing Scottish romances under the pen name Isolda Wren. Her Highlanders are tall, silent and suspiciously well groomed for men who live outdoors. Her readers adore her. Her editor, however, has just sent her an email: the tenth novel needs authenticity, or there won’t be an eleventh. So Nieves does what any professional with a mortgage and a cat with a grandmother’s kidneys would do: she buys a pair of boots she can’t tie, travels to a valley of 212 inhabitants and falls into a ditch in front of the only man in a kilt for miles. Tormod Garrow is a ranger who hates the kilt, gives no interviews and has a laminated rule for nearly everything. What Nieves doesn’t know is that for seven years he has been sending her letters of complaint full of historical corrections. Respectfully. And with reservations. Between a blackout caused by an influencer cousin, an “ancient” tradition invented in 1987 and a Spanish omelette nobody should have attempted to flip, Nieves will discover that the authentic is messier, funnier and a great deal hotter than anything she has ever written. Because writing about love is easy. Having a six-foot-three Scotsman with a mug of tea in his hand correct it is another matter. A romantic comedy with plenty of humour, a little mist and scenes not to be read in front of the children.