#outlanderstarz Instagram Photos & Videos

outlanderstarz - 107.6k posts

Top Posts

  • Another snap we could look at all day, everyday, right?
  • Another snap we could look at all day, everyday, right?
  • 5,427 79 17 March, 2019

Latest Instagram Posts

  • Luckier — and either more perceptive or more cynical — than his famous kinsman, Hector Mor Cameron had cannily prepared himself against eventuality of a Stuart disaster. He had escaped Culloden unwounded and made for home, where he had promptly loaded wife, servant, and portable assets into a coach, in which they fled to Edinburgh and thence by ship to North Carolina, narrowly escaping the Crown’s pursuit.
Once arrived in the New World, Hector had purchased a large tract of land, cleared the forest, built a house and a sawmill, bought slaves to work the place, planted his land in tobacco and indigo — no doubt worn out by so much industry — succumbed to the morbid sore throat at the ripe old age of seventy-three.
Having evidently decided that three times was enough, Jocasta MacKenzie Cameron Cameron Cameron had — so far as Myers knew — declined to wed again, but stayed on alone as mistress of River Run.
“Do you think the messenger with your letter will get there before we do?”
“He’d get there before we do if he crawled on his hands and knees,” Young Ian said, appearing suddenly beside us. He glanced in mild disgust at the patient deckhand, plunging and lifting his dripping pole. “It will be weeks before we get there, at this rate. I told ye it would have been best to ride, Uncle Jamie.”
“Dinna fret yourself, Ian,” his uncle assured him, letting go of my neck. He grinned at his nephew. “You’ll have a turn at the pole yourself before long — and I expect ye’ll have us in Cross Creek before nightfall, aye?”
Ian gave his uncle a dirty look and wandered off to pester Captain Freeman with questions about Red Indians and wild animals.
“I hope the Captain doesn’t put Ian overboard,” I said, observing Freeman’s scrawny shoulders draw defensively toward his ears as Ian approached. My own neck and shoulders glowed from the attention, so did portions further south. “Thanks for the rub,” I said, lifting one eyebrow at him.
Diana Gabaldon, DOA, Ch 8
#DIanaGabaldon #OutlanderStarz #JamieFraser #JAMMF #SamHeughan #ClaireFraser #CaitrionaBalfe #DrumsofAutumn #Outlander #outlanderseries #outlanderbooks
  • Luckier — and either more perceptive or more cynical — than his famous kinsman, Hector Mor Cameron had cannily prepared himself against eventuality of a Stuart disaster. He had escaped Culloden unwounded and made for home, where he had promptly loaded wife, servant, and portable assets into a coach, in which they fled to Edinburgh and thence by ship to North Carolina, narrowly escaping the Crown’s pursuit.
    Once arrived in the New World, Hector had purchased a large tract of land, cleared the forest, built a house and a sawmill, bought slaves to work the place, planted his land in tobacco and indigo — no doubt worn out by so much industry — succumbed to the morbid sore throat at the ripe old age of seventy-three.
    Having evidently decided that three times was enough, Jocasta MacKenzie Cameron Cameron Cameron had — so far as Myers knew — declined to wed again, but stayed on alone as mistress of River Run.
    “Do you think the messenger with your letter will get there before we do?”
    “He’d get there before we do if he crawled on his hands and knees,” Young Ian said, appearing suddenly beside us. He glanced in mild disgust at the patient deckhand, plunging and lifting his dripping pole. “It will be weeks before we get there, at this rate. I told ye it would have been best to ride, Uncle Jamie.”
    “Dinna fret yourself, Ian,” his uncle assured him, letting go of my neck. He grinned at his nephew. “You’ll have a turn at the pole yourself before long — and I expect ye’ll have us in Cross Creek before nightfall, aye?”
    Ian gave his uncle a dirty look and wandered off to pester Captain Freeman with questions about Red Indians and wild animals.
    “I hope the Captain doesn’t put Ian overboard,” I said, observing Freeman’s scrawny shoulders draw defensively toward his ears as Ian approached. My own neck and shoulders glowed from the attention, so did portions further south. “Thanks for the rub,” I said, lifting one eyebrow at him.
    Diana Gabaldon, DOA, Ch 8
    #DIanaGabaldon #OutlanderStarz #JamieFraser #JAMMF #SamHeughan #ClaireFraser #CaitrionaBalfe #DrumsofAutumn #Outlander #outlanderseries #outlanderbooks
  • 451 3 7 hours ago