Come, take a seat by the fire and be swept into the Highlands of 1696.

The Heir and The Keeper follows James, the laird’s son, and Duncan, a gamekeeper’s boy; two lives bound together by friendship yet divided by class, oath, and inheritance. Amid clan relics, storming politics, and the weight of family duty, their choices will echo across a changing Scotland.

In the beginning of the book, Duncan’s days begin with dawn on the moors: mending boots with blackthorn needles, checking his father’s traps, sharing song with his mother, and listening to the wise but sharp words of Tuiren. His uncle’s reckless kindness brings both danger and love, until a single act leads to banishment and a farewell in the fog.

James, groomed to inherit Cluny, finds his world split between ledgers and lavish halls. At a glittering New Year’s ball, he dares to invite Duncan into his circle, only to feel the sting of refusal. Lessons with Reverend Carlisle, sharp debates with Simon and Rogan, and rapier training under Graeme Fraser draw him further into questions of power, loyalty, and conscience.

As Darien Scheme fever spreads through Scotland, the laird presses his son toward the scheme, while Duncan takes on greater burdens of land and loyalty. One resists the mould of his father, the other earns respect as keeper of the hills. Letters from afar bring unease, storms gather over the glen, and the bond between the boys is tested by every choice that divides hall from hearth.

Friendship, duty, and inheritance collide in a Highland story of quiet courage and costly oaths. To be an heir, to be a keeper; both demand sacrifice. But how much must be risked to hold on to what is theirs?

Hello there, I’m Rivkah.

Most of my words begin on a typewriter; one key at a time, the clack of the keys steady as rain on a Highland roof. Writing this way slows me down, makes me pay attention, and lets every sentence feel as though it belongs to its place in history.

My favourite things are often the simplest: I adore orange tulips, weaving plots that twist subtly into one another, and the smell of woodsmoke curling out of a chimney on a damp day. There are threads I try to pull into my work: beauty and resilience, hearth and storm, inheritance and friendship. Anything cinematic.

I write historical fiction because I want the past to feel close; close enough to smell the kitchens, to hear the crows lift off the moors, to stand beside the boys and girls who carried loyalty and loss in equal measure.

I want to remember the 'old days' where people did hard work in the fields without the need of tractors or fertilisers that weren't straight from nature.

These stories are shaped by research, yes, but more than that, they are shaped by heart.

Most of all, I would love for them to be read. Books come alive in readers’ hands, and nothing would make me happier than for these Highland tales to find their way into yours.

Thank you for joining me.

“Our friendship grew stronger with each journey, the miles between parish and castle turning into a bond. Now, six years later, we were the best o’ comrades, tested by weather, bound by routine, and strengthened in ways neither of us could put into words.”

— The Heir and The Keeper

The second half of the story follows Duncan MacRae and James Macpherson as they step out of boyhood and into the responsibilities of young men. James’s cousin, Kiera Dalziel, arrives with her formidable aunt — Kiera as ambitious as she is intelligent, dreaming of a future with books in her own name, a vision rare for 1697. Her spark unsettles and inspires in equal measure.

As James’s father turns his gaze across the sea and ships himself to Panama, James’s world broadens into Edinburgh. In the smoke of taverns and the shadows of Tolbooth, in the lofty halls of St Giles’ Cathedral and Parliament House, at Tounis College, and in evenings spent at Fountainhall’s side, James wrestles with politics, learning, and the shape of his inheritance.

Meanwhile, Duncan begins to carry the mantle his father left behind. Trusted by the keepers, tested by land and loyalty, he faces the peril of a poacher and emerges with a well named in his honour. Yet trust, once given, is fragile — can he hold it, or will it slip like rain through stone?

Each chapter unfolds like a tale of its own, steeped in history yet alive with voice. Characters stand layered and memorable; the sense of place so vivid you could almost step into it. The Highlands and Edinburgh alike come to life — their joy, sorrow, laughter, and longing woven into rhythm, imagery, and moments of striking simplicity.

At its heart, The Heir and The Keeper is a story of love, loyalty, loss, identity, and hope. It is written with honesty, depth, and momentum — a book to be felt as much as read. Cinematic in scope, deeply emotional in spirit, it lingers long after the last page is turned.

What I find most remarkable about writing The Heir and The Keeper is that I live in the very place where it all unfolded.

The farm where Duncan, one of my protagonists, worked is right here beneath my feet, and Cluny Castle is only a quick bike ride away. The woods, the hills, the river; they are not distant history but part of my everyday life.

The story is written in the heart of the Highlands, with the land itself at my fingertips.

“The moorlands had faded in colour from the bright, distracting gold of summer to a brownish, amber red, a palette more muted yet no less alive, as though the land itself was settling in for the storms to come.”

 FAQs

  • This is a story for children, teens, and adults alike; anyone who loves history woven with warmth, resilience, and heart. Safe for readers from age 9 to ∞, it holds moments of deep feeling and themes of growing up, yet always with the gentleness of truth: the grit, beauty, and tenderness of ordinary lives in extraordinary times.

  • Every page is rooted in real history, 1968: the clans of Badenoch, the weight of Highland life, the gamble of Darien, and the bustle of Edinburgh’s wynds and taverns. But this is no dry account. The prose is shaped to echo the past — lyrical, cinematic, and true — so that when you read, it feels less like learning history and more like walking straight into it.

  • Each chapter is published first in the Ovie Journal. Want to begin at the very start? Chapter One is in the first issue. For £5 a month (or $7), you can follow along, chapter by chapter, as the story unfolds — with art, history, and a touch of Highland life in every edition.

  • The Ovie Journal is our monthly journal, blending story and farm life. Each issue includes:

    • a new chapter of The Heir and The Keeper,

    • a comic strip, or wildlife diagrams,

    • a farm diary from the month — what we’ve been planting, harvesting, and working on,

    • and photography of the animals and the land as the seasons turn.

    It’s a keepsake of words and images — a way to follow the novel as it unfolds, while also stepping into the rhythm of life here on the farm. At £5 a month ($7), you receive it issue by issue, like stories were once told: slowly, warmly, month by month.

Find The Heir and The Keeper here:

This book is still being written — chapter by chapter, key by key on my old typewriter — and I would love your support as it grows. By pre-ordering now, you’re not just reserving your copy of The Heir and The Keeper; you’re also helping me bring it to life.

Pre-ordering is a way of saying: I believe in this story. It means more than I can say, and I’d be truly grateful to have you with me on the journey.

We would be so grateful for your support. The Ovie Journal is where I share each new chapter of The Heir and The Keeper, alongside our photography, farm notes, and little pieces of art from life here in the Highlands. By joining, you’re not only helping me continue writing, but you’re also stepping into the story as it grows — month by month, page by page.

Please do read, enjoy, and follow along. Your presence means the world. Just click the button below to join.