Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Making Christmas Special Again

One of the best things about writing for Mills and Boon readers, is their VORACIOUS appetite for Christmas books. Suits me to a T. I love them and I love Christmas. Two years ago a couple of weeks before the big Yulefest, I lost my beloved Bernese Mountain Dog. I was absolutely devastated. We weren’t lucky enough to have children so our pooches really were our children (No, they didn’t have their own bedrooms or anything, but they were family). The next Christmas we were down to one and it was tough. Then, a few months later, we lost our gorgeous chocolate lab. Time whipped forward at its usual frenzied pace and VOILA! Father Christmas came and visited us with this gorgeous little minx. I actually wrote the first few chapters of Making Christmas Special Again before we got this little one, but Skye has definitely made my Christmas special again. This year will be our first with her (she was only two days old last Christmas so was still with her mummy). I can’t wait.

Below is the opening chapter for Make Christmas Special Again. It is part of a quartet with the gorgeous Susan Carlisle, the wonderful Annie Claydon and the super divine Karin Baine. We love making up wonderful worlds we all want to move to. Immediately! And this time was no different. I hope you enjoy the teaser! Happy Holidays to one and all. xx Annie O’

Here are my gorgeous hero and heroine….I prayed to the cover gods but didn’t get a puppy, but rest assured – there are LOADS inside!!

HELL’S TEETH, IT was cold.
For once the all-consuming distraction of lungs vs arctic winds hurtling in

from the Highlands was welcome. Physical pain outweighed Max Kirkpatrick’s rage just long enough to remember that for every problem there was a solution. This time, though…

Trust the festive season to send him another blunt reminder that, no matter how hard he tried, the universe simply wasn’t going to let him put some good back into the world.

He’d genuinely thought he’d done it this time. He really had.

His eyes travelled the length of the scrubby inner-city hospital then scanned the former vacant plot. There’d been snow on and off for weeks and yet there were still patients wandering around with pets and still more in the greenhouse, fostering their plants as if they were their own flesh and blood.

He traced his finger along a frost-singed rose. The parents of a little boy who’d lost his struggle with cancer had planted it three years earlier when Max had only just started Plants to Paws. The lad had loved coming out here to play with the family mongrel. Golden moments, his parents had called them. Golden moments. They still came and tended it as if their son were still with them. In a way, he supposed, he was.

This week.

Max’s disbelief that someone was going to destroy the garden shunted through him afresh. Gone were the piles of rubbish, the burnt-out car, the thick layers of tagging on the side of the Clydebank Hospital walls. In their place were raised vegetable patches, benches with the names of loved ones on shining brass plaques dappled about the small wildflower meadow and, of course, the greenhouse and extra-large garden shed he’d built with a handful of other doctors. They’d recently installed a wood stove for added comfort. That would go, too. Along with the bow-laden wreath someone had hung on the door, despite his protestations that it was too early.

He crouched down to pop a couple of stones back onto the rock garden one of the Clyde’s long-term leukaemia patients had helped build. Her first ever garden, she’d crowed. She’d be gutted when she found out it was going to be demolished, all to help some fat-cat property developer.

As he nestled another rock back into place, a young Border collie ran up to

him with the tell-tale wriggle of a happy dog. She rolled onto her back for a tummy rub. He took a quick glance around and couldn’t place her with anyone within sight.

He gave her soft white belly a rub. ‘Hey, there, little one. You’re a pretty girl. Now, who do you belong to?’

‘Some would say they don’t belong to anyone.’

The female voice slipped down his spine like warm honey. Low and husky, it was the type of voice that could talk a man into anything if he didn’t watch himself. Good job he’d put the emotional armour on years back.

Max was about to say he was very familiar with the way canine-human relationships worked, thank you very much, when a pair of very expensive boots appeared on the woodchip path. Expensive boots attached to a public school accent. Still Scottish, but he would put money on the fact their schools had had a mixer dance. The military school his stepfather had deposited him in strongly encouraged shoulder rubbing with the ‘power makers’, as the school head had liked to call them.

‘Deal breakers’ would’ve been a better moniker if today’s news was anything to go by. He still couldn’t wrap his head round the hospital reneging on their word. Sure, they needed the money, but obliterating Plants to Paws to let a developer build a car park?

Bam! There went three years of hard work. Not to mention the slice of peace that came from knowing he’d finally made good on a years’ old vow to do what he hadn’t done for his mother: offer a refuge from a life that wasn’t as kind as it should have been. All for a bit of money they’d never see on the wards. Hello, cement trucks, sayonara Plants to Paws.

The puppy nuzzled against his hand.
‘What’s her name?’ He had yet to look up.
‘Skye,’ the voice said.
She sounded like a Christmas ornament. Angel? Whatever. Too damned nice was what she sounded.
Her leather boots moved in a bit closer. Italian? They looked handmade.
‘I think you’ll find her “love me tender” routine is an act. Skye’s always got an ulterior motive and, from the looks of things, you’re playing right into her paws.’

He didn’t even want to know what that meant.

‘Is she a working collie or one of those therapy dogs?’ They’d been trying to introduce the therapy dogs into the hospital but, as ever, stretched resources meant the lovable fur balls weren’t seen much on the wards.

‘Working. Though she’s still in training. Precocious. Just like her mother.’

Damn. This woman’s voice was like butter. Better. Butter and honey mixed together. If he was to add a shot of whisky and heat it up it’d be the perfect drink on a day like this.

‘What type of training?’ he asked, to stop his brain from going places it shouldn’t.

‘Search and rescue.’

That got his attention. He had been expecting agility. Maybe sheep herding. A voice like that usually came attached to some land. Land managed by someone else. As he tilted his head up, the sun got in his eyes and all he could make out was a halo of blonde hair atop a stretch of legs and a cashmere winter coat that definitely wasn’t from the kind of stores he shopped in.

Miss Boots squatted down to his level and the second their eyes met he stood straight back up.

Piercing blue eyes. A tousle of short curls the colour of summer wheat. A face so beautiful it looked as though it had been sculpted out of marble. For every bit of wrong she elicited in his gut, there was an equal measure of good.

‘Are you a patient?’ It was the only thing he could think to ask, though he knew the answer would be—

‘No.’ She put her leather-gloved hand out to shake his. ‘Esme Ross-Wylde.’

He kept his facial features on their usual setting: neutral. Though society papers weren’t his thing, even he’d heard of the Ross-Wyldes. Scottish landed gentry of the highest order. The Ross-Wylde estate came with about five thousand acres, if memory served. A couple of hours north of Glasgow. Before his mum had married The Dictator, as Max liked to think of his stepfather, she’d taken him there for one of their famous Christmas carnivals. Huge old house. A castle actually. Expansive grounds. Extensive stables. Skating rink. Toffee apples and gingerbread men. It’d been the last Christmas he hadn’t been made to ‘earn his keep’.

‘So.’ He clapped his hands together and looked around the sparsely populated garden. ‘Have you brought Skye along to meet someone?’

She unleashed a smile that could’ve easily lit him up from the inside out. Good thing she’d met him on a bad day. On a good one? He might have had to break some rules.

‘I was looking for you.’ She held up a familiar-looking scarf.

‘How’d you get that?’ He knew he sounded terse, but with his luck she was the developer. If she was trying to sprinkle some sugar in advance of telling him when the wrecking ball would swing, she may as well get on with it.

Esme was unfazed by his cranky response. She tipped her head towards the garden shed as she handed him his scarf. ‘A member of your fan club gave me this to give Skye a go at “search”.’
He glanced over at the shed and, sure enough, there were a couple of patients from the oncology ward waving at him. Cheeky so-and-sos. They’d been trying to blow some oxygen onto the all but dead embers of his social life ever since they’d found out the nurses not so discreetly called him The Monk. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Esme Ross-Wylde. ‘I presume that means you’re here for the “rescue” part?’

She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘If you’re interested.’
Skye’s tail started waving double time.
If he wasn’t mistaken, the corners of her rather inviting lips were twitching with the hint of a smile.
Something about this whole scenario felt like flirting. He didn’t do flirting. He did A and E medicine in Glasgow’s most financially deprived hospital. Then he slept, woke up and did it all over again. Sometimes he came out here and dug over a veg patch. There definitely wasn’t time for flirting.

When he said nothing she asked, ‘How do you fancy keeping Plants to Paws the way it is?’

His eyes snapped to hers, and something flashed hard and bright in his chest that had nothing to do with gratitude. It ricocheted straight past his belt buckle and all the way up again. By the look on her face, she was feeling exactly the same thing he was. An unwelcome animal attraction.

Oh, hell. If life had taught him anything, it was the old adage that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

The Dictator had taught him that everything came with a price. Best to rip off the plaster and get it over with. ‘What’s the catch?’

STAY TUNED FOR MORE – OR RUSH OUT AND BY THE SERIES – BUT MOST OF ALL – TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES AND LET THERE BE PEACE ON EARTH! xx Annie O’ (cue Jingle Bells…jing Jing Jing Jing!)

Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Double Delights !

Hello and welcome! Here we are at the magical height of summer (for me anyway – hello all of you rugged up Antipodeans!). We’ve got our first crop of hay in, have had two barbecues that didn’t require wearing snowsuits and…very excitingly…are just a handful of days away from the release of my latest Mills & Boon AND…(cue drumroll)…my first ever book by my new identity – Daisy Tate! The books are being released in quarters (a novella length each) but ALL on the same day so if you like part One – You can move on to Party Two (I mean part two – obviously. LOL.)

Click here if you’d like to read more about The Happy Glampers books!

So why the new name?
The short and sweet answer is – it was part of the publishing deal. And one I was happy to sign. A chance to try out a new voice and explore some untapped territories? Why not?

Does this mean I’m giving up Medicals?
No Way! I’ve got a book coming out August 1st (July 25th in some lucky areas) that I’m really proud of it as it marks yet another first! A brand new editor. I had a great editor before, but I love it when they mix things up at M&B because it keeps me on my toes and ensures I am always giving you the best story I can.

So…please forgive the shameless plugging but I’m SO excited it’s all I can think about (when I’m not thinking about our seven month old puppy!!!).

If you’re in the mood for glamping with gal pals or diving into a second chance romance with me or my new alter ego – now’s your chance! Do send along any questions for either book or feel free to follow Daisy Tate on Twitter or Facebook for more news on that front – or I’m at my usual spots on the same sites as me. I hope you have an amazing summer (or winter) and if you have any questions or exciting things to say that are first for you – do let me know!! Big kiss to all xx Annie O’

Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Everything’s Coming Up…Daisies???

Hello hello!

This is the main cover….but wait…there’s more!

So…big news. I have a new (not so secret) identity! I have spent the past few months doing double duty with our glorious team here at Medical Romance and working with a wonderful editor over at Harper Fiction on a brand new book called Happy Glampers.

It’s about four women who were friends at uni and have lost touch … until now. It’s been great fun to write, not least of which because the characters are all around forty – an age group I don’t normally write about. I also don’t normally write about glamping (fancy camping) … so, of course: RESEARCH!

This marshmallow was toasted in the name of research purposes.

Why are there FIVE covers you greedy little minx, you may be asking yourself. Well, in the spirit of Charles Dickens (ha! I wish…) this is a serialised book. The publishers are actually releasing the whole entire book on-line at the same time as the serialised section so it’s up to the reader if they want to dip in and see if they like it – or if they’d prefer to just gobble it up like a delicious gooey marshmallow in one go.

I cajoled my husband into glamping and we ended up having an absolute ball. We even made new friends.

Nom nom nom

In the spirit of my new double identity, I have a new facebook page (Daisy Tate’s Facebook) and Twitter handle (Daisy’s Twitter) BUT!!!! I will still very much be Annie O’Neil because…how could I not be? I’ve got a book coming out in August that I’m very excited about and one nearer to Christmas that involves PUPPIES!!!! (I just got a puppy. Can you tell I’m excited?) If you have any questions – please do write and ask. Happy Glampers doesn’t come out until August 1st (and not in paperback until next Spring!!!) but I thought I’d let you know why I might be popping up on your social media as two people. All the best for the summer (you glorious Northern Hemispherians) and autumn (you wonderful Antipodean folk). xx Annie O’

Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Who would you….

Snog….Marry….. Or Avoid?

 

We all make choices. Not all of them are fabulous. But some of them are definitely risks worth taking. This is why I think reading romance is so brilliant. We get the chance not only to enjoy the exhilaration of falling in love over and over again…but we also get some smoking hot tips on who might not suit us best or who, on the flip side, just might be worth pulling on your fireproof pantaloons for.

SO! I’ve made a wee quiz that puts you right in the middle of the love danger zone. Who would you snog, marry or avoid? (Top tip – for the ranking one…just drag and drop to where you want them). Oh – and once again – I can’t figure out how to embed this into the blog but I am now going to go find a class where I can learn all of these wonderful things!

Click on the link here or do the quiz below https://annieoneilbooks.survey.fm/snogmarryavoid and ENJOY.

x Annie O’

PS: I won’t have a new book out until the summer…but I will have some news about my new alter ego in a month or so!!! Watch…this…space. xx Annie O’

Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Falling in Love in New England

I recently went to a wedding in New England and it was just like being in a gorgeous RomCom starring Jennifer/Meg/Reese/Drew and (fill in appropriate hot guy for whatever rocks your boat). It was gorgeous and helped my little overactive imagination swan dive right into the quartet of books I was lucky enough to write with the fab Annie Claydon, Karin Baine and Susan Carlisle – Hot Single Dads!

Last week Annie Claydon put an excerpt from her book on the blog, so this week I thought I’d quiz your knowledge of New England, I know I learned a few things writing it! We’re going to select  five random winners from people who participate so make sure and leave a comment in the section below if you want to be considered so that we can get in touch with you and send you HALF of the Single Dad Docs series to enjoy.

Because I am slightly less clever than I used to be (thank you winter head cold!!)…I have only managed to figure out how to link you to the quiz rather than embed it, and as such…..

Press this baby to have some QUIZ fun and a chance to win a book!!

How gorgeous is this place? I could definitely imagine a bit of hand holding here!

Hope you’re all well and enjoying whatever season if happening where you are. See you soon! Annie O’ xx


Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

Tis the season…

Oh it’s the season alright! The season where I – and I suspect – a whole lot of you start going berserkers! As my good pal, Susan Carlisle mentioned the other day, I’m an overseas American. I’m not shy in letting people know Thanksgiving is my ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE holiday. So much so I tend to have it twice. Once, low key style on the actual day because strangely enough, the whole of Britain doesn’t grind to a halt so I can have my tuIMG_3483rkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. Then again about a week later on the weekend so that if a bit too much wine has been enjoyed…there’s a chance for a lovely lie-in the next day.

This year? It’s all bonkers. We had a brilliant Thanksgiving day at the local pub thanks to ‘Mad Ron’ our local publican who regular readers might see (you will always see this) appear as a publican in just about all of my books. He’s fab. And he made me turkey burgers. A first for the pub, and an absolute

P1100367.jpg

delight for me! They were Delicious!!!

On the weekend I would normally host a Thanksgiving feast of my own, we went out with friends to a Simon and Garfunkle Tribute Band. They were amazing! I love Simon & Garfunkle and I LOVE a tribute band. The only thing that would make it more fun would be roller-skates. (Seriously…I should’ve just had my entire life in the 70s over and over).  Next on the list? A trip to Vienna with one of my former professors. I’m so excited. Kaffee und Kuchen! Cake and coffee in one hundred year old cafes? Yes, please! Then it’s back to the UK to make a long overdue Thanksgiving….and then….whooooosh! Christmas! Which is my second favourite holiday. Love it. I love the cookie making (I regularly borrow friend’s children to make cookies with me and, of course, I adore writing Christmas books. This year’s no different.Army Doc's Christmas Angel.jpg I was lucky enough to be asked to be part of the fabulous Hope Children’s Hospital series. The other books are by the fabulous Caroline Anderson, the delightful Alison Roberts and the wonderful Tina Beckett.

In my book, my hero – the rather gorgeous Finn Morgan – lost his leg whilst serving his country in Afghanistan. I ran a half marathon a couple of weeks ago and about mile twelve, when I was pretty close to throwing in the proverbial towel…I caught up to a real life Finn Morgan. A former marine running for fallen soldiers who had run the marathon with a blade for one leg. I can’t even begin to tell you how emotional it was. I kept bursting into tears! Talk about a dehydrating experience. And powerfully moving.

So that was all an incredibly long winded way of saying…I love taking an annual stop and regroup to really think about what I have to be grateful for. I’m going to start with YOU. Thanks for being here. And see you soon. xx Annie O’

 

Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance Novels

One Way To Beat ‘The Shys’

Photo on 19-04-2017 at 10.29.jpgI know most people who have met me would find it difficult to believe I am actually shy. (Although – it could be that I’m an introvert and can’t tell the difference between the two, but that’s a whole other barrel of fish…next time? NB: Smiley face courtesy of the rather fabulous Louisa Heaton!)

Now. Back to being shy. I know. I know. I seem gregarious. I’m a goofball of the highest order. I have been known to perform interpretive dance…in public. There’s even more evidence against me: I think people are fabulous. I love watching them, talking with them, hearing their stories, writing their stories…but! I’m also, unbelievably and incredibly shy… too afraid to approach a group, nailed to the wall if everyone else is laughing and I don’t have an in….stuck in a blinkered tunnel of flashbacks to being picked last for the dodgeball team unless…I have a job. IMG_2033.jpg

Which is why I signed up to help organise the Romantic Novelist’s Conference here in the UK. It gave me a job. A reason to be brave enough to speak with all of the writers and agents and editors and all of the other wonderful people who bundled their way to Leeds to talk Romantic Novels for 72 glorious hours.

Turns out pointing people to the loos and their conference rooms is a wonderful way to start a conversation. I’m so glad I did it. A wee little chink in my Oh-Crikey-I’m-Too-Scared-To-Talk-To-You-Armour.

Do you have any fabulous things you do to trick yourself into doing something you know you’d be good at if only you weren’t afeard?

Throw your ideas/theories/experiences my way. Oh! By the way – my next book isn’t coming out until November. There are a raft of lovely new books by all of our fabulous Medical authors and if you’re new to the genre?  Check out the Mills & Boon Hot Single Doc collection. It’s MEGA! (Just click to go to the link)9781474085441