Welcome to my weekly Author Spotlight. I’ve asked a bunch of my author friends to answer a set of interview questions, and to share their latest work.
Today: Susan Mac Nicol is a British MM/LGBTQ+ romance author.
A writer, a coffee drinker, a Brit oozing sarcasm, with a passion for all things books.
I write steamy, heartfelt and often dark romance featuring unforgettable LGBTQ+ characters, found family, and love that refuses to behave. I’m also an award-winning screenwriter with ten industry awards for the screenplay of Sight Unseen.
Interesting facts. My family and I were chased by a rhino on a dusty Kenyan road. I was once mistaken for a prostitute in Johannesburg (hilarious story). I got kicked out of a youth club for encouraging free thinking. Oh yes, and my aunt Delia was once engaged to Cliff Richard.
Welcome to my website.
You can join me in the Facebook group Talking RoMMance with a British Accent.
I also have a linktr.ee so you can find me anywhere https://linktr.ee/susanmacnicol
Thanks so much, Susan, for joining me!
J. Scott Coatsworth: When did you know you wanted to write, and when did you discover that you were good at it?
Susan Mac Nicol: I’ve written since I was around 9 years old. It was a passion even back then. At the age of 11 I was given a typewriter for my birthday (a very old one, I think it was an Imperial. I was completely enamoured by it and I still have the stuff I typed on it back home in a box.
JSC: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done in the name of research?
SMN: I’ve done a lot of weird research, but I suppose the most ‘out there’ one is going to going to live in a circus. Hubby and I spent a week with Santus Circus when I did the research for Living On Air, which is about a circus aerialist. I wanted to absorb the atmosphere of the circus as an adult, speak to people who lived and breathed circus and travelling life, and find out what goes on in the secret areas of the Big Top.
JSC: Have you ever taken a trip to research a story? Tell me about it.
SMN: For Unveiled, Gary and I took a trip to the Highlands of Scotland. A beautiful place called Dalmally on Loch Awe. We stayed in a converted train station ( which is still in use twice a day) and we travelled the length and breadth of the area as I looked for the perfect place to set my book.
JSC: If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
SMN: Learn the writing craft. Take some courses, go to night classes and make sure that you become as polished as you can.
JSC: How did you choose the topic for Unveiled?
SMN: This story was always there. When I was younger, my dad was a great fan of Charles Dickens, live theatre, Tchaikovsky, and musicals. I inherited the love for these things from him. He introduced me to Brigadoon and I loved it. So when I wanted to write a new fantasy story, a new urban re-telling of this was a definite.
JSC: What secondary character would you like to explore more? Tell me about them.
SMN: There’s a young man in the book called Laird, who’s modelled on someone I’ve now know for many years and who I met through my books. I promised him I’d make him into a character and give him a HEA. Laird is someone who will grow through this series and find the man he deserves. His Prince.
JSC: Let’s talk to your characters for a minute – what’s it like to work for such a demanding writer?
Connor – ‘She takes me to hell and back in this book, and every time I look around Julien is getting into fucking trouble. I suppose she’s all right, but I could do with a little more calm in my life.’
Julien – Ms Susan is a peach, she teaches Connor many valuable lessons such as how not to be a grumpy prick all the time. And she brings out the Frenchman in me.’
JSC: What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?
SMN: That’s easy. Write what you know. If we all did that imagine how boring things would be. Imagination is a great tool, and we need to use it more. The key is to know what you’re writing about. That’s where research comes in.
JSC: Tell me one thing hardly anyone knows about you.
SMN: I was a backing singer in a local boy band when I was in my teens.
JSC: Would you visit the future or the past, and why?
SMN: I’m more fascinated by history than sci fi futures. I’d visit the past, Victoria London in the mid 1880’s. I’d need to be very rich of course. Victorian townhouse with flushing toilets, and a country estate.
JSC: What’s your drink of choice?
SMN: I’m a gin and tonic gal.
JSC: What are you working on now, and what’s coming out next? Tell us about it!
SMN: I’m currently working on the second book in the Monarchs of Magic, called Valour Rising. I’m also working on a new series about a travel critic who travels around the world giving his opinion on hotels.
And now for Susan’s new book: Unveiled:
In the mist-shrouded Scottish Highlands, a centuries-old legend stirs to life when a mysterious town appears during a fierce storm.
Through the Mists of Time Like a place in fables and fairytales, the town of Glengàill is filled with secrets and enchantments. This remote area of the Highlands is home to two enigmatic wolf shifters. Connor, who rules his clan with primal strength and fierce loyalty, and Julien, whose compassion and humor shines through to keep the clans balanced. Kings of their packs, Connor and Julien are bound by a destiny entwined with Glengàill’s fate.
This mysterious, magical village that appears during a fierce storm, is more than it seems, and danger lurks at its edges. As the fog of time slowly lifts, the town’s hidden beauty is revealed, and a powerful bond between the shifters and the town’s lore is rekindled. But Glengàill is bound and captive to a council who is determined to keep the townspeople and their magic for themselves.
Caught between their duty to their packs and the call of destiny, Connor and Julien must protect Glengàill from forces that threaten to exploit its magic while grappling with their unexpected and conflicted feelings. As the battle begins, both kings fight for Glengàill, and for each other, so all will not be lost in the mists of time.
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Excerpt
Julien was speaking to an elderly woman when he sensed him.
Connor.
He turned, heart leaping before he could stop it.
The Highlander strode across the square like a storm given limbs—focused, determined, eyes locked on Julien as though nothing else in the valley existed.
Julien’s breath caught. Stupid. Unwanted. Immediate.
When Connor reached him, Julien felt warmth flare low behind his ribs.
“You’re here early,” Julien said.
Connor’s voice was low, rough. “Wanted to get it out of the way.”
Before Julien could answer, Xiathen approached, and Julien reluctantly tore his gaze from Connor’s.
But as they followed Xiathen toward the Athenaeum, Julien felt Connor’s presence beside him—solid, steady, grounding.
Their arms brushed once.
Neither stepped away.
*****
Connor got out of the car and stepped out into the town. The drive back to the place his clan had named Glengáill had been eerily still. No wind. No birds. Just the crunch of tyres over frost‑stiff grass.
Fraser had sat in the passenger seat, silent for once, scanning the landscape as though expecting another shadow to leap from the trees.
Connor’s hands hand tightened on the wheel when the first rooftops appeared—sharp silhouettes against the pale morning sky. The town looked unchanged. Peaceful. But he knew better.
And then he’d seen him.
Julien stood near the well, speaking softly to a cluster of villagers. His posture was elegant even in exhaustion. His coat was half‑buttoned. His hair tousled by the cold breeze. And when he laughed—just once, low and reassuring—it hit Connor like a fist to the chest.
Julien looked up and saw him. Their eyes locked.
Connor wasn’t sure which of them started moving first, but within moments they stood close—too close—every breath visible between them in the cold air.
“You’re here early,” Julien said quietly.
“Wanted to get it out of the way.” Connor tried to sound level.
Before they could say another word, Xiathen appeared, gliding toward them like mist given form.
“We must speak,” the mystic said. “The storm has settled, but the danger has not.”
Connor nodded, tearing his gaze away from Julien. The other man’s hand brushed his sleeve as they followed Xiathen.
Accidental.
But Connor felt it all the way to his bones.
***
Xiathen’s words blurred as Connor walked beside Julien, who moved like he belonged in this strange place. Like he’d already woven himself into the rhythm of Glengáill, into its people, into its heart.
Into Connor’s thoughts. Damn him.
When Xiathen led them into the Athenaeum, Julien stepped slightly ahead, and Connor’s hand rose without thinking—to steady him, to guide him, to touch—
He pulled back just in time.
Julien noticed. Of course he did. His lips curved. At Glengáill’s gate, in the square, on the path to the Athenaeum — every moment brought them closer. And every moment Connor stopped just short.