What one piece of advice would you give to a writer wanting to start a career?
The same piece of advice that was given to me. It’s a job. You get up, get the chores out of the way and GO TO WORK. It’s not something I’ve ever really managed, because there’s so much thinking time, but you can take that too literally and then you find you aren’t thinking at all, you’re just procrastinating. And then you have to get to it and stop fairying about the countryside pretending to plan the plot, or you just lose the plot. Bigtime!
What are you currently working on?
A Romance for the Harlequin Diamond Anniversary, about Max and Julia Gallagher, a married couple who have drifted apart and come together again with a life-changing jolt! It’s lots of fun, it’ll be out in February 2009
Could you tell us about your future projects?
No. Not because I’m coy, but because I don’t let myself think about them because I’m so easily distracted – see above! But I can tell you that John and I are going to Tuscany in May for a short break, so watch out for an Italian hero coming to a shelf near you in Spring 2009! And in December I’m writing a book set in the Limb Centre of a hospital, because I’ve recently written a hero who’s an amputee, and I was so impressed by the work that they do at the Disablement Services Centre in Norwich that I wanted to give a prosthetist her own story. And there will be another Romance in between those two, and maybe another. It all depends. And that’s just this year’s schedule!
Look out for The Single Mum and the
Tycoon out in Mills & Boon® Romance
in October 2008.
Caroline Anderson’s next Medical™
romance, A Mummy for Christmas,
is out in December 2008.
I go to
bed and wake
without fail
with an
amazing idea
which, also
without fail,
I will have
forgotten
before I drift
off again…”
A DAY IN THE LIFE
Six am. Clock radio bursts into life. If I’m lucky, I’m still asleep. Otherwise I’ve been fidgeting for hours. Get up, make tea and take it back to bed with dogs and cat, or if John gets to the kettle quick enough, I might get a cup brought to me! Oh, luxury! Then I get up and tackle the day thus: feed dogs, feed ancient pet pony, feed ancient and equally useless chickens, walk dogs, think about book – this is vital planning time and very useful – and then come back to house and make coffee, find two squares – OK, four! – of dark mint chocolate and take to computer, dunk chocolate and suck it while I read yesterday’s pearls of wisdom. Edit them. They are mostly plastic beads! Make phone calls. Sneak out for coffee. Come back, fit of guilt, write more, have lunch if I haven’t pigged out on cake in a café, write more, walk dogs again, think about dinner, write more because it’s easier than cooking, feed horse/collect egg (s)/feed dogs/cat/husband – probably in that order, but not significant in any way except that he makes less noise! – and collapse in chair with glass of wine/coffee/fennel tea, depending on time of night, and veg in front of telly. (Please note no mention of housework. I don’t know a single writer who likes it or does it except as an alternative to writing when it hits a brick wall, which it always does in the course of every book. Luckily I have a lovely couple who come and scrape up the dog hair every week and wash an inch of mud off the kitchen floor. One day I’ll have a flat and no pets. Hah!) Watch news, if I can stay awake, then go to bed and wake without fail with an amazing idea which, also without fail, I will have forgotten before I drift off again. One day I’ll get a notebook…
.If you enjoyed Their Miracle Baby, we know you’ll love…
A Doctor, A Nurse: A Little Miracle by Carol Marinelli
Nurse Molly Jones decided that if she was ever to bump into Luke Williams again, she would be super-slim, sleek-haired and dressed to impress… Instead, Molly has just finished a night shift on the children’s ward, slightly the worse for wear, when she discovers that paediatrician Luke is back in town – with his four-year-old twins!
Single dad Luke is as dedicated and charming as she remembers. But Molly’s heart has been broken before: once when Luke left, and once when she discovered that, for her, motherhood was never meant to be. All Molly has ever dreamt of is a family, and with Luke it looks as if all her dreams might just come true. And then she realises that she and Luke have created a little miracle of their own…
Sheikh Surgeon Claims His Bride by Josie Metcalfe
Surgeon Zayed Khalil is formidable, yet scarred. The only solace he finds is in his work. He’s dedicated, professional and brilliant. And he’s come to Penhally Bay to set up a specialist children’s unit at St Piran Hospital.
Emily Livingston is in awe of her new boss, but she’s noticed the pain behind his dark eyes. Her instinct to reach out to him is as overwhelming as the underlying attraction between them. But Zayed closed his heart
Could this beautiful young doctor be the woman to show him how to live again, even love again?
Turn the page for a sneak preview from
Sheikh Surgeon Claims His Bride
by Josie Metcalfe –
the tenth book in the
Brides of Penhally Bay series:
BRIDES OF PENHALLY BAY
Bachelor doctors become husbands and fathers
– in a place where hearts are made whole.
SHEIKH SURGEON CLAIMS HIS BRIDE
by
Josie Metcalfe
‘That is one of the good things about coming back to Penhally,’ Emily murmured aloud, mesmerised by the changing colours in the streaks of cloud against the horizon while she waited for the sun to sink into the sea at the end of another perfect summer’s day.
And there was another benefit to coming back to her home town, she added silently as a good-looking man stepped into view on the sand and proceeded to strip his clothing off.
‘Oh, yes!’ she breathed as the last golden rays outlined each new vista, from broad shoulders and a wide chest decorated with an intriguing swathe of dark silky-looking hair to a tautly muscled belly and slim hips, all covered by darkly tanned skin. ‘That is definitely a good reason for living near a beach.’
As she watched, he began an obviously well-practised routine of stretches before progressing to a seriously strenuous workout. For just a moment she wondered if he was putting on a show for her benefit, but there was no way that he could know she was there. This little alcove at the base of the rocks was one of the first places to be thrown into shadow as evening began to fall, and
It wasn’t until the man finally turned to walk into the sea that she noticed that he was limping fairly heavily, and her professional interest was raised. Had he injured himself during that punishing drill he’d just put himself through, or could the disability itself be the reason for the routine?
The light level had fallen too much by now for her to see any evidence of an injury, and while he had probably come to the beach at this time so that he could have some solitude, the idea of leaving anyone to swim alone when they might get into difficulties and need assistance wasn’t something she could contemplate.
‘Well, it’s no hardship to sit here a bit longer,’ she murmured. The air was still warm and even though a playful breeze had started up as the sun began to go down, she was perfectly sheltered where she was. Then, of course, there was the fact that she would have a second chance to look at that beautiful body when whoever he was finally emerged from the water.
In the meantime, she had some serious thinking to do and a mountain of guilt to come to terms with.
She’d been away for such a long time while she’d gone through her arduous medical training and had only realised that it had been far too long when a visit had revealed the dreadful secret her grandmother had been hiding.
‘I didn’t want you to come home just to watch me die, not when you had all those exams to take,’ she’d e
xplained stubbornly when Emily had arrived for a long weekend visit to give her the latest good news in person.
She’d been so looking forward to seeing Beabea’s face
The taste of triumph had turned to ashes in her mouth when she’d realised just how little time she had left with the only family she possessed in the world.
With her grandmother’s permission, she’d spoken to the oncologist at St Piran’s the next day, hoping against hope that there was room for some glimmer of optimism—an operation, perhaps, or chemotherapy—but, if anything, the prognosis was worse than she’d thought.
‘She could have several months, but I really think it’s unlikely,’ the kindly man had said, leaving Emily feeling sick to her stomach. ‘With this sort of thing, the patient is usually fairly well, despite the devastation going on inside, right up until the last couple of weeks. That’s the point when she’ll need to come into hospital or transfer into a hospice—somewhere where they’ll be able to monitor the pain medication, because she’ll need it by then.’
‘If she’s put on PCA, couldn’t I take care of her at home?’ Emily had pleaded, knowing just how much her grandmother loved her little cottage. The place was full of years of love and so many happy memories, and if she was put on a morphine pump for patient-controlled pain relief, Emily wouldn’t have to worry that she wasn’t giving her grandmother the correct dose.
‘You could, initially,’ he’d agreed. ‘But we’ve found that it’s often far too stressful for the patient to stay at home right to the end, knowing that their relatives are
And in the meantime, Emily had started her new job under Mr Breyley and had obtained permission to spend her off-duty hours far further away than the immediate vicinity of St Piran’s.
Their little system had worked well, with Emily taking care of her grandmother’s needs before she drove the hour to St Piran’s, knowing that Beabea still had many friends in the Penhally area, including several in the medical profession in one capacity or another, who would be dropping in throughout the time she herself was away on duty.
And while her grandmother slept for longer stretches each day, Emily took herself off for walks along the harbour, past the Penhally Arms and the Anchor Hotel. Each time she glanced in she saw that holidaymakers and locals alike were enjoying themselves, and it seemed somehow wrong that they were oblivious of the life-and-death battle that was going on just around the corner.
A time or two she’d sat at the café on the end of the row, sipping a long frothy latte while she watched the holidaymakers leaning on the parapet of the bridge, who were watching the waters of the river Lanson hurrying on the final stretch of their journey to the sea.
She’d stood there a time or two herself, gazing down at the chuckling, purling waters tumbling over the rocks while she’d pondered on the timelessness of the view. So little had changed from the first time she’d balanced on the parapet on her stomach as a teenager, risking a painful
She was a different person from that teenager, a doctor, now, with the job of her dreams. And her grandmother, who had always seemed so ageless that she might live for ever, was now a shrunken old lady with thin grey hair and papery skin and barely enough energy to breathe.
In fact, apart from working under Mr Breyley, which was everything she’d hoped for and more, the one bright spot in her day was if she managed to make it to the beach to complete her mind-numbing run along the hard-packed sand before her mystery man arrived.
Several times she’d been tempted to speak to him, to let him know that she was there and to get her first good look at his face, but that would have spoilt the fantasies she’d been weaving about him, especially if she found out that he was only someone she’d gone to school with.
Then there was the fact that he might see her as some sort of voyeur, hiding in the rocks while she watched him put himself through his nightly torment, but she could always counter that accusation by pointing out that she was doing nothing more than acting as an unofficial lifeguard. Not that she thought that would cut much ice with a man who seemed so driven and so utterly self-contained. In fact, his focus seemed so intense that she found it difficult to imagine that he was the sort who would ever relax enough to reveal a softer side to his nature.
‘But that won’t stop me imagining one,’ Emily murmured as he set off into the water again lit only by the dying rays of the sun.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
First published in Great Britain 2008 Harlequin
Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Harlequin Books S.A. 2008
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
THEIR MIRACLE BABY © Caroline Anderson 2008
MAKING MEMORIES © Caroline Anderson 2000
ISBN: 9781408902301
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
Title Page
Their Miracle Baby
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Making Memories
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Celebrating Our Authors
Copyright
Their Miracle Baby Page 29
