Medicals on Sale-Get Yours Now!

by Susan Carlisle

Because this sale is such a wonderful chance for all readers to get a chance to read all their favorite medical writers I wanted to make this announcement. I, for one, will be buying up a number of books to enjoy over the holidays. Don’t miss out on this great deal!


Reawakened by the Surgeon’s Touch – an excerpt.


It’s  a long time since I last posted on our blog. I have been following what’s been happening though, and enjoying the posts and all your comments. Today it’s my turn to post an excerpt from my latest book, REAWAKENED BY THE SURGEON’S TOUCH, but first of all let me tell you a little about how I came to write this story.

I have an ongoing series based on an overseas aid agency called Worlds Together and every so often I set a book in some part of the world where my medics take on the task of helping people who are living in the most dire conditions. It takes a particular type of person to do this work and I greatly admire the folk who respond to each new emergency that occurs and fly off to help. While my heroine, Claire, is just the sort of person who can cope with the hardships, it doesn’t appear as though the hero, Jude, is cut out for the job. Let’s just say that they get off to a very frosty start, no mean feat in the middle of baking hot Africa!

Here’s how they meet.



What in heaven’s name was he doing here?

As the plane began the final stages of its descent, Jude Slater was struck by an unexpected rush of panic. Up to this point anger had buoyed him up. He had been so furious when his former mentor, a man he greatly admired, had accused him of choosing the easy option that he had set out to prove him wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t have stung quite so much if Jude hadn’t had the sneaking suspicion that the other man was right. He had been coasting for the past few years, although he had refused to justify himself by explaining why. He tried not to think about that period in his life; it was too painful. Suffice to say that he had paid his dues, even if it didn’t appear so to an outsider.

Nevertheless, the accusation had spurred him on so that almost before he knew it, he had signed up to work for Worlds Together, a leading medical aid agency. True, he had been a little disconcerted when he had been invited for an interview a couple of weeks later and offered a post. He hadn’t expected things to move quite so quickly but he had been determined not to back down. Nobody would be able to accuse him of losing sight of the real issues once he had done a stint overseas, he had assured himself. He would be accorded his true standing within the medical fraternity and that was all he wanted. It had all sounded so perfect in theory but now that he was about to land in the tiny central African country of Mwuranda reality had set in.

What did he know about the problems of working in the developing world? Jude thought a shade desperately. He was London born and London bred, and he thrived in the constant bustle of city life. When he travelled abroad, he visited other cities—New York, Paris, Rome—places where he felt at home. Wherever he went, he stayed in five-star luxury hotels too; however, recalling what he had been told at his interview—something about Mwuranda recovering from the effects of civil war—it appeared that five-star luxuries were going to be very thin on the ground here!

The plane rumbled to a halt and Jude unfastened his seat belt. Ten hours spent squeezed into a gap between piles of packing cases hadn’t made for the most comfortable journey but, hopefully, things would improve from here on. The one thing he mustn’t do was panic. Conditions couldn’t be that bad or nobody would volunteer to work here, so it was just a question of putting everything into perspective. Maybe luxuries would be few and far between, but so long as he had the basic necessities he would cope. He was only here for three months and he could put up with a bit of hardship for that length of time.

Jude felt much better once he had reasoned everything out. He had been told that he would be collected from the airfield so as soon as the ramp was lowered, he made his way out of the plane. His heart sank as he stepped onto the runway and looked around. All he could see in every direction was khaki-coloured landscape, the few scrubby trees which were dotted about providing the only relief from the monotony. It was mid-afternoon and the air was blisteringly hot. Apart from the plane he had arrived on, the airfield was deserted. He couldn’t see any sign of a car waiting to collect him and his spirits sank even further at the thought of having to hang around in the heat until his transport arrived.

‘Dr Slater?’

The voice was female but that was the only indication of the speaker’s gender, Jude discovered when he turned around. The figure standing before him was dressed in a bulky old boiler suit which completely disguised the wearer’s shape. Heavy boots on her feet and an old baseball cap pulled low over her eyes completed her ensemble.

Jude could just make out the lower part of her face—a softly rounded chin and a mouth which was bare of any trace of lipstick. He had no idea if she was young, old, or somewhere in between, and it was unsettling when it meant that he wasn’t sure how to pitch his response.

‘That’s right. I’m Jude Slater.’ He held out his hand and smiled charmingly at her. ‘And you are—?’

‘Your driver .’

The woman ignored his outstretched hand as she stared past him into the hold and Jude felt himself bridle. Quite frankly, he wasn’t used to women of any age ignoring him. The older ones wanted to mother him, the younger ones wanted to sleep with him, while those in between could go either way.

‘If you’ve brought any luggage with you then you’d better fetch it. There’s a truck on its way to pick up our supplies, but there’s no guarantee it will make it back to town tonight. It all depends how long it takes to unload the cargo.’ The woman treated him to a cursory glance and he could tell how unimpressed she was by his attempts to charm her by the sneering curve of her unadorned lips. ‘We don’t drive around after dark. It’s far too dangerous.’

Jude’s chagrin faded in the face of this fresh snippet of information. He managed to hide his dismay but the situation seemed to be going from bad to worse at a rate of knots.

‘I’ll get my bag,’ he said shortly.

‘You do that. I just need a word with the pilot and I’ll be right with you. The bike’s over there.’

Jude stopped dead, wondering if he had misheard her. It had been extremely noisy in the plane and his ears were still ringing from the throbbing of the engines, but he could have sworn she had said something about a… ‘Bike?’

‘Uh-huh.’ She pointed across the runway. ‘That’s it over there. There’s some rope under the seat so I suggest you tie your bag onto the back. It should be safe enough so long as we don’t hit too many potholes.’

Jude’s jaw dropped when he spotted the battered old motorbike propped against the perimeter fence. Its bodywork was pitted with rust and even from this distance he could tell that the tyres were completely bald of any tread. She didn’t really think that he was going to travel on the back of that thing, did she?

‘This is a joke, isn’t it? Some sort of a…stunt you pull on new recruits like me?’ His good humour returned in a rush as he realised what was going on and he laughed. ‘You wind us up by telling us that we’re expected to ride on the back of that heap of junk and I, in my innocence, very nearly fell for it!’

‘I hate to disillusion you, Dr Slater, but it isn’t a wind up. We’ll be travelling back to town on that bike so I suggest you get your belongings together.’ The woman pushed back her cuff. ‘It’s almost two o’clock and I haven’t got time to waste, hanging about here. If you don’t want to spend the night sleeping in the plane then you’d better get a move on.’

With that she walked away. Jude watched her make her way over to where the crew were standing then realised that he was holding his breath. He breathed out and then in, but not even a fresh shot of oxygen made him feel any better. His gaze went to the rusty old motorbike and his mouth thinned. Given the choice, he would have refused to get on the blasted thing but he didn’t have a choice, did he? He was a stranger in this country and one who knew very little about what it took to survive here too. He might be able to hold his own in any city in the world but he was as vulnerable as a newborn babe out here and it was galling to admit it.

He was used to running his life the way he chose these days. It had taken him a while to get back on track after he had quit working for the NHS and he had no intention of relinquishing his autonomy ever again. Maybe he was at a disadvantage here but he still intended to be charge of his own destiny.

Jude took another deep breath and used it this time for a specific purpose, i.e. shoring up his anger. He would start as he meant to go on. No way was he going to be ordered about by some overbearing, pushy woman!


Definitely not the best start to a relationship but it does get better, I promise you! Claire and Jude led me a merry dance but I loved telling their story and felt that they deserved their happy ending. I hope you will feel the same too. I had planned to put up a photo of the cover here but the cyber gremlins have been at it again and it has disappeared. Apologies! If you want to see it then pop over to any of the following sites:

As an added incentive, if you visit the Harlequin website they are having a sale, lots of wonderful books being sold at a reduced price. There’s quite a few of my backlist there along with books by many other of the Medical authors. So pop along and stock up!

love to you all,


What Makes A Strong Woman Strong?

Hello, again!


 So, I’ve been thinking about what my blog should be today, and I kept coming back to an autumn theme. Joel and I have been doing a lot of autumn things lately – picking apples, buying pumpkins, photographing the turning leaves. Next week we’re going to take a fall foliage train excursion and we’re also going to an out-of-state park where 1100 carved jack-o-lanterns will be on display in the evening. So, autumn did seem like the logical choice for today. Then I looked at the date this blog was assigned – October 14 – my grandmother’s birthday, 127 years after the day she was born. And the topic of strong women came to mine. Priscilla Dosler Copp White was a strong woman, and probably the most influential woman in my life.


She was a little German lady, born of German-English heritage. Raised in a tiny Pennsylvania Dutch community, she didn’t have much opportunity to become educated. Her schooling ended with 3rd grade, around age 8. She hadn’t learned math yet, but she taught herself in later years. And she hadn’t learned to write either, but again, she taught herself. She also taught herself to spell and to read because she valued education. Which is why, in later years, she took in laundry, scrubbed other people’s floors, did sewing—anything to save money to put each of her five children through college at a time this country’s economy had crashed.


Nana, as I called her, married young. She was 17, but that was expected of young girls in 1906. Marry young, have children, cook, clean—that was pretty much their lot in life back then. Nana did all that. Plus, she was a mid-wife. No, she didn’t have any formal training, but all the pregnant ladies in her tiny town turned to her to help them through pregnancy and childbirth. Or when they had the flu. Or needed stitches. Even when I was a kid and someone in our neighborhood had a medical crisis, they came to Nana.


On Sundays, Nana played the piano at the local Lutheran church. She also made all the choir robes and laundered them, directed the choir, arranged flowers for the altar, swept the floors, made sure the hymnals were in proper repair, fixed Sunday dinner for the pastor and his family, and called on people in her congregation who were ill. Every day of the week, she fed the “hobos” as she called them, telling me that her fence post was marked so anyone who needed a meal knew to stop by her house. She always had a pot of beans on cooking for down-and-out strangers who needed to eat. And she fixed daily meals for a number of shut-ins in her neighborhood. Sometimes she cooked for as many as five different families, as well as her own. She lived with us when I was growing up, and put the best German meals on the table you could ever want. In fact, she was still cooking right up until her death. Feeding her family was one of the great joys of her life.

Nana sewed, too. Beautifully. I was the best-dressed kid anywhere. But she didn’t just sew for me. She sewed for what she called “the poor people.” If she needed two yards of fabric for a dress, she’d buy four, make two dresses, and donate one. She darned socks because one hole didn’t mean it should be thrown away. Made curtains, bedspreads and tablecloths because the prices you paid for them in the stores were disgraceful. She re-upholstered furniture because why throw out a perfectly good chair when it wore out when you could just put new fabric on it? And she turned any and everything into lamps, or storage containers, or tables. The little table sitting next to my office chair was part of a kitchen set we had when I was a kid. She cut off the back, upholstered it and added ball fringe (her trademark). It’s been a functional piece of furniture in my life more years than I’ll admit.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 And, a spotless house—oh, my gosh, was she a housekeeper! I remember when I first left home, I wasn’t so tidy about my own apartment. But Nana would walk to my apartment several times a week (she never learned to drive) just to clean for me, do my laundry, stock my fridge, and do all the things she’d done for me my entire life. This was quite a chore for someone in her 80s, but that was Nana. Always busy. Always taking care of the people she loved. It was her love, not just for her family but for everyone she knew, that made her so strong, I believe.

Nana never held a regular job. She was a happily-married homemaker for 53 years, and after my grandfather died, she moved in with my family to take care of us. Quite honestly, I don’t remember a time in my young life when Nana wasn’t there. Of course, there were those big, explosive times when she was there too much—as in, she was one heck of a disciplinarian. Nana didn’t speak German around the house, even though she was raised in a German-speaking home herself. But when I got in trouble and heard the words – Gott im Himmel! – coming from her, it was time to run. I was in deep, deep trouble and there’s nothing scarier than a 93 pound, feisty German woman who is on the warpath.


Reminiscing aside, Nana had one accomplishment in her life, other than her family, she was most proud of. My tiny little grandmother was a suffragette. She started her march for women’s right to vote in 1915, and kept on marching until 1919, when women in the United States were given that right. Her first ballot was cast in 1920, and she never missed voting in an election after that. She told me she’d worked too hard, for too long, to be considered equal, to throw it all away. To me, that made her more than my grandmother. It made her my hero. I think it made her a hero to women in general, too, because women like her made it possible for women like us to be us—women who are able to choose our destinies, whether it be staying at home to take care of our families, writing books, heading up international corporations or running for political office.

So today, on Nana’s birthday, I think about who I am, and about who so many other women are because of people like my grandmother. She had her place in this world. It was in her home, taking care of other people. Maybe that’s why I became a nurse. It was in her church, playing the piano. Maybe that’s why I became a musician. It was in teaching herself, by the light of an oil lamp, how to read and write. Maybe that’s why I became a writer. It was in marching for something she believed in. Maybe that’s why I became an advocate for equality.


Happy Birthday, Nana!





Excerpt – Waking up to Dr Gorgeous

Welcome to the Christmas Swap!

I’m really excited to introduce my new release, Waking up to Dr Gorgeous, which is book one in The Christmas Swap duo which I wrote with Amy Andrews. Above are just some of the different covers!

Our brief was simply to write two stories where our characters swapped houses; the rest was up to us. Working out our characters and our stories and how we were going to fit them together was great fun. We took one character from the country and sent her to the city and moved a hero in the other direction; one country girl, one city boy, both out of their depth.

Luci and Flick are best friends and Seb and Callum Hollingsworth are gorgeous, smart, sexy brothers who happen to both be brooding loners in need of a bit of loving J.

My book, Waking up to Dr Gorgeous, tells Luci and Seb’s story and is set in Sydney. Here’s a little taste and check back later in the month for an excerpt from Amy from her book, Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger. And if you want to see all of the excerpts we’ve posted so far, please click the ‘Excerpts’ link on the Menu.


Luci hung her bath towel on the rail and slid naked between her bed sheets. She kept the window blinds up and the window slightly open. From the bed she could see the stars in the sky and the sound of the ocean carried to her on the warm spring air. The ocean murmured to itself as it lapped the shore. It was gentle tonight and she could imagine the waves kissing the sand, teasing gently before retreating, only to come back for more.

She dozed off to the sound of the sea.

It felt like only moments later that she woke to an unfamiliar sound. A slamming door.

She was still getting used to the different sounds and rhythms of the city. She could sleep through the early morning crowing of a rooster and the deep rumble of a tractor but the slightest noise in the middle of suburbia disturbed her. Rubbish trucks, the tooting of ferry horns, slamming of car doors and the loud conversations of late night commuters or drinking buddies on their way home from the pub all intruded on her dreams but this noise was louder than all of those. This noise was close.

She heard footsteps on the wooden floor boards and saw light streaming under her bedroom door as the passage light flicked on.

Shit, there was someone in the house.

What should she do?

Call out?

No, that would only draw attention to herself.

Find a weapon of some sort? She’d seen a set of golf clubs but they were in a cupboard near the front door. She couldn’t get to them and there was nothing in the bedroom. Maybe a shot of hairspray to the face would work – if only she used hairspray.

Should she call the police? But how quickly would they get here? Not fast enough she assumed.

She had no idea what to do. She’d never had to fend for herself.

She sat up in bed and scrabbled for her phone in the dark. She was too afraid to turn on the light, worried it would draw the wrong attention. She clutched the bed sheet to her chest to cover her nakedness. Perhaps she should find some clothes first. She didn’t want to confront a burglar while naked.

She could hear him crossing the living room. The tread of the steps were heavy. Man heavy. She could hear boots. The steps weren’t light and delicate. Nor was he making any attempt to be quiet. There was a loud thump as something soft but weighty hit the floor. It didn’t sound like a person. A bag maybe? A bag of stolen goods?

Her heart was racing and the hurried thumping almost drowned out the sound of the footsteps. Which made her pause. This had to be the world’s noisiest burglar. She hadn’t had much experience with burglars but surely they would generally try to be quiet? This one was making absolutely no attempt to be silent. Plus he had turned the lights on. Definitely not stealthy.

He was a terrible burglar, possibly one of the worst ever.

But maybe he thought the house was empty? Perhaps she should make some noise? Enough noise for two people.

She heard the soft pop as the seal on the fridge door was broken. She frowned. Now he was looking in the fridge? Making himself at home. She was positive it wasn’t Callum. Luci had spoken to Flick earlier in the day. Callum had well and truly arrived in Vicker’s Hill and according to her friend he was creating a bit of a stir. Luci hoped he wasn’t going to prove difficult – he was supposed to making things easier for her dad, not harder, but Luci couldn’t do much about it. All it meant to her was that it wasn’t Callum in the apartment. And she was pretty sure by now that it wasn’t a burglar either but that still meant a stranger was in the house.

She needed to get dressed.

She switched on the bedside light and was half way out of bed when she heard the footsteps moving along the passage. While she was debating her options she saw the bedroom door handle moving.

Shit. They were coming in.

‘You’d better get out of here. I’ve called the police.’ She yelled, not knowing what else to do.

The door handle continued to turn and a voice said,  ‘You’ve done what?’

When it became obvious that the person who belonged to the voice was intent on entering her room she jumped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, grabbing her phone just in case she did need to call the cops.

‘I’ll scream,’ she added for good measure.

But the door continued to open and a vision appeared. Luci wondered briefly if she was dreaming. Her heart was racing at a million miles an hour but she had no clue as to whether it was due to nerves, fear, panic or simple lust. This intruder might just be the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. Surely someone this gorgeous couldn’t be evil?

But then Ted Bundy sprang to mind. He was a good-looking, charming, educated man who just happened to be a serial killer. ‘Don’t come any closer,’ she said.

He stopped and held his hands out to his sides. ‘I’m not going to hurt you but who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?’ he said.

Your room?’

Was this Callum? She was certain she’d chosen the guest bedroom but anyway, what was he doing here? He couldn’t have got back to Sydney that quickly. He was supposed to be a thousand miles away, staying in her house. That was how a house-swap worked.  ‘Why aren’t you in Vicker’s Hill?’

‘What the heck is Vicker’s Hill?’

Luci frowned. ‘Who are you?’

He couldn’t be Callum. So whose room was she in exactly?

‘Seb. Seb Hollingsworth.’


‘You’re not Callum?’

A creased appeared between his superb blue eyes as he frowned. ‘No. I’m his brother.’

Luci almost missed his answer, distracted as she was by the thick, dark eyelashes that framed his eyes.

‘Brother!’ Why hadn’t Callum warned her? She sat up in the bed taking care to make sure the sheets stopped her from any sort of indecent exposure. ‘Callum didn’t mention you.’

‘So you do know Cal then?’

‘Sort of.’

He lifted one eyebrow but said nothing.

Luci could play that game too. And she used the silent seconds to examine the vision a little more closely.

He really was gorgeous. Tall, really tall, with thick dark hair, chestnut she’d call it. He had eyebrows to match that shaded piercing blue eyes and a nose that may or may not have been broken once upon a time. His lips were full and pink but the two-day growth of beard that darkened his jaw prevented them from looking feminine.

His torso was bare but he held what appeared to be a black t-shirt in his hand. Just what had he been planning on doing? she wondered before she was distracted again by his broad shoulders and smooth chest. He reminded her of someone she thought as her eyes roamed over his body.

The Statue of David she thought.

Brought to life. He was made of warm flesh instead of cool marble but with the same, startling, level of perfection.

Her heart was still beating a rapid tattoo. Adrenalin was still coursing through her system but not out of fear. Now it was a simple chemical, or maybe, hormonal reaction.

‘I think you have some explaining to do,’ said the living, breathing statue.

In Luci’s opinion so did Callum, Seb’s absent brother, and she was blowed if she was going to explain herself while she lay in bed naked. She clutched the sheet a little more tightly across her breasts. ‘Let me get dressed and then we can talk.’

The corner of Seb’s mouth lifted in a wry smile and there was a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. Luci felt a burst of heat explode in her belly and she knew that the heat would taint her body with a blush of pink. She could feel the warmth spreading up over her chest and neck as Seb continued to stand in the doorway. Did he know the effect he was having on her? She had to get rid of him.

‘Can you give me a minute?’ she asked.

‘Sure, sorry,’ he replied, looking anything but sorry. ‘And while you’re at it,’ he added, glancing at the phone that was still clutched in her hand along with the bed sheet, ‘do you think you could ring the police and tell them it was just a misunderstanding?  I don’t want the neighbours getting the wrong idea.’

‘I didn’t actually ring the police,’ Luci admitted.

He turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him and she could hear him laughing, a deep, cheerful sound that lifted her spirits.

Luci waited to hear his footsteps retreating before she was brave enough to throw off the sheets once more. She climbed out of bed on shaky legs and pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She padded down the hallway to the open plan lounge and kitchen to find Seb with his head in the fridge giving her a very nice view of a tidy rear covered in denim. His bare feet poked out of the bottom of his jeans.

She stepped around a pile of luggage had been dumped beside the couch. A brown leather jacket was draped over a duffel bag and a motorbike helmet sat on the floor beside a pair of sturdy boots, the boots that had been stomping down the passage. There was a thick layer of reddish brown dust covering everything. Maybe he did live here.

She ducked through the kitchen and into the dining room where she stood on the far side of the table, putting some distance between them.  Despite the fact that he looked like something created by Michelangelo and appeared to be related to the owner of the house she wasn’t prepared to take his word for it just yet. Until she’d decided he wasn’t Ted Bundy she wasn’t taking any chances.

He stood up and tuned to face her. His chest was now covered by his black t-shirt – that was a pity – and he had two small bottles of beer in his hand.

‘Beer?’ he asked as he raised his hand.

Luci shook her head.

He put one bottle back in the fridge, closed the door and then twisted the top off the other bottle and took a swig. He watched her as she watched him but he didn’t seem as nervous as her. Not nearly.

He stepped over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. He pushed the chair back and stretched his legs out. He was tall. His legs were long. He was fiddling with the beer bottle and she couldn’t help but notice that his fingers were long and slender too.

He lifted his blue eyes up to meet her gaze. ‘So, sleeping beauty, do you have a name?’


‘Luci,’ he repeated, stretching out the two syllables, and the way the ‘u’ rolled off his tongue did funny things to her insides.

‘So where’s my big brother? And why were you in my bed?’


Click on the links to be taken to the bookstores

Learning to pace oneself …

As I am writing this I am thinking about how easy life would be some days if only there were two … or three of me. Then I realize that I am the one solely responsible for creating job opportunities for clones. I need to slow down and pace myself but that is easier said than done when I have a bucket list that is overflowing – amazing family and friends with whom I want to spend as much time as possible; a day job I really enjoy; my writing which brings me so much joy; my fur children who love walks and cuddles; the ‘to be read’ pile of books in the study (many brought home from the amazing ‘Ain’t Love Grand conference) ; and a room full of beautiful fabrics begging to be brought to life and made into outfits.


And let’s not forget the gym … which I need more than ever after a winter of wonderful family gatherings with too much delicious Greek food.


Apart from the obvious difficulty in arranging a clone,  an equally difficult part would be deciding which bits of my super busy life to hand over to someone else.  I don’t think that decision would come easily  as I love each and every bit of it.  Even the sad times and the disappointing moments make my life complete.  All of it brings me joy, challenges, enormous satisfaction and a sense of fulfillment.

Eldest daughter asked me to stay a few extra days in Sydney recently, so of course I agreed. And it meant that I attended my first NRL grand final and my first day at the Randwick races.  Life is so full of exciting experiences that need to be embraced and I do find it difficult to pace myself.


Just as I thought I was getting close to limiting my activities … yesterday I noticed something on the way to do the grocery shopping (actually the supermarket visit is one chore I could readily hand over to my clone).  A sign announcing bridge lessons for beginners caught my attention. A light went off in my brain and a tiny opening appeared in my calendar.  I have always wanted to learn to play bridge.  I can’t play any seriously grown up social card games. My expertise in this area is limited to UNO and snap.


So I have decided I will learn bridge … but lessons will wait until next year.

Do you struggle to pace yourself … or is saying no a little easier  for you?



So coming up next week the DH and I are celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary. You can say it was love at first sight, because it really was. We met New Years 1999, when it was  turning into 2000. We didn’t start really dating until spring 2001 and we were engaged in August 2001.


Me and my DH, his sisters and grandmother.

October 2002 on Canadian Thanksgiving (because I love turkey) we were married.

My DH proposed to me at one of my most favourite places in the world. North Bay, Ontario. I know that doesn’t seem glamorous, but I spent many happy summers and falls in North Bay, Ontario. My father’s family is from the north and I love the north.


The beach at Sunset Inn North Bay, Ontario. Where the DH proposed. The lake is Lake Nipissing.











Now, 14 years later we’re going back to the north, not quite North Bay though. We’re going to Algonquin Park.


The famous Fall colours of Algonquin.

In all my travels to the north I’ve never actually been to Algonquin Park, which is sort of a travesty. My paternal grandfather (who was quite venerable when my father was born so I never knew him) worked in the park in 1917, building railroads and knew famous Group of Seven artist Tom Thomson and remembers distinctly when the artist was murdered, though this disputed I believe.


My paternal grandfather. He was born in April 1885 and helped build the rail way to northern Ontario, including the Polar Bear Express.

My father said his father always stated that Tom was murdered. My grandfather was friends with him.

Algonquin is also famous for the fall colours. I’ve always wanted to see them. So, this year my DH said “Let’s go!” And booked us in at a resort only for couples outside the east gate of the park.

I’m SO excited, but slightly nervous as this is Moose rutting season and they like to hang out on the roads.


You don’t want to mess with these guys!

I’m also nervous because I’m going to be totally unplugged and I’m right in the throes of a deadline for my fifteenth book. So right now I’m trying to get in as many words as I can so I can enjoy my three days away from everything (which is why I was late posting here today).

To all my Canadian friends HAPPY THANKSGIVING! And to everyone else, what’s your favourite part of Autumn?

You can find out more about Amy here. Or Tweet her @ruttanamy.


October New Releases

Six more awesome medical romances coming your way this month! We’re especially pleased to showcase Scarlet Wilson’s gorgeous cover with her Asian heroine and we celebrate and congratulate Emily Forbes on her 25th book!!



One Kiss in Tokyo by Scarlet Wilson.

One explosive meeting…

Air Force doctor Captain Avery Flynn is literally knocked off his feet by feisty nurse Katsuko Williams. Avery’s posting in Tokyo is only temporary—he’s well aware nothing lasts forever—and yet he’s powerless to resist the attraction between them…

One unforgettable kiss!

Avery’s desire for adventure is thrilling, and it tempts Katsuko to break her no-dating rule. But his earth-shattering kisses leave her wanting more than commitment-shy Avery can offer her. Can Katsuko be the one woman to tame this restless wanderer?


The Courage to Love her Army Doc by Karin Baine

karinTaking chances…

Dr. Joe Braden took a posting as locum on a remote Fijian island to escape his memories. But he finds the solace he seeks in the unlikeliest of places…the arms of captivating Dr. Emily Clifford.

Born with a distinctive birthmark, Emily has spent years hidden behind a mask of makeup. Yet Joe makes her feel beautiful in her skin for the first time ever. She’s been burned before, but if she can find the courage to love her army doc she can claim the happy-ever-after she’s dreamed of…




Reawakened by the Surgeon’s Touch by Jennifer Taylor

But can he heal her heart? jennifer

When surgeon Jude Slater volunteers for a post in Mwuranda, romance is the last thing on his mind! But something about his coworker Claire Morgan unleashes emotions he’s always strove to hide.

Claire can’t fall for any man until she deals with the event that haunts her and caused her escape to Africa. Yet Jude reawakens her wounded soul in ways she never thought possible. Is he the man to heal her? And in opening his heart to Claire, can Jude also heal himself?





Second Chance with Lord Branscombe by Joanna Neil


The course of true love never did run smooth…

…and Dr. Sophie Trent knows that better than most! Her romance with Nate Branscombe ended in disaster years before—and now the handsome heir to the local estate is back.

Sophie has enough to think about without this charismatic aristocrat’s distraction, but as they work closely together he stirs up feelings she thought she’d left firmly behind her. Can the one that got away finally help Sophie face the past…and convince her that true love is here to stay?



Waking Up to Dr Gorgeous by Emily Forbes (Christmas Swap duo)emily

Her unexpected rescuer

1. Leave your troubles behind and escape to Sydney for a temporary house swap.

2. When a gorgeous stranger walks into your bedroom, smile—you’ve hit the jackpot!

3. Indulge in a hot fling with said stranger!

But little does nurse Luci know that her fling is about to become so much more. Because Dr. Seb Hollingsworth has ways of making her feel alive again. With Christmas just around the corner, suddenly Luci knows exactly what she wants under her tree!


Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger by Amy Andrews (Christmas Swap duo)


When that guy on the train turns out to be your boss!

Nurse Felicity Mitchell’s train journey of a lifetime is even more unforgettable when she meets Callum Hollingsworth. Neither is looking for temptation, but that doesn’t stop them from sharing one hot, wild night!

Except when they disembark, they learn that what happened on the train won’t stay on the train. Because the gorgeous stranger is Flick’s new boss…and it’s increasingly difficult to keep their chemistry under control and leave it at just one night!