This Champagne Rosebud, written by DC "Pat" Hardy, is a spell-binding tale about love (of course!), lives held in the balance, and learning to believe in matters of the heart. Matters which don't apply strictly to inter-personal relationships.
Medical romances are not my absolute favorite, admittedly, but when I received this submission, it knocked me out of my chair. This isn't another "day in the life of ER", but a very personal account that addresses extremely plausible internal conflicts surgeons may well face.
Laced with just the right amount of humor, laden with romance that's certain to tug at your heart, Kyle and Michelle paint a picture of hope and fullfillment amidst a backdrop of black and white realism. Not to mention our hero is so loveable you'll want to take him home and make him your own personal physician!
Look for Affairs Of The Heart on January 27, 2010.
Dr. Richards," Michelle said to the back of Kyle's well-washed scrubs, "I need to talk to you." The worn blue fabric did nothing to hide his fabulous athletic physique. Or the clench of his shoulders before he turned to face her.
Her stomach tightened. After almost five years, he could still grab her with his devil-may-care good looks. But he certainly didn't seem happy to see her.
"Well, what do you know? Michelle Benoit." Wild mahogany hair held in check by his trademark Billabong bandana, Kyle flashed a lopsided grin that didn't match the wariness in his gray eyes. "How'd you sneak under my guard?"
With a glance at her feet, he leaned toward her. "Nice shoes, by the way. Not what I'd wear to a trauma code, but you always did march to your own drummer."
A hot wave of indignation swept up Michelle's neck. "You knew it was me in there the whole time?"
"Nope. Just on my way out." He peered around her and didn't meet her accusing glare. "Those gorgeous blue eyes of yours gave you away. Excuse me."
He joined the trauma cart as it swept by and left Michelle to finish her conversation with herself. As if.
"Kyle, we're scheduled to meet today."
He held the elevator doors open as his colleagues maneuvered the patient inside. "Plans change, Michelle, as you know." His pointed look held heavy insinuation, sharp with reflections of the past.
"But I have to wonder," he continued, "what I did to deserve the attention of the great Dr. Benoit." He swung inside the elevator next to the gurney. "The promising surgeon who abandoned her residency for a plush research job." His eyes narrowed as he cocked his head. "Tell me, Doctor. Is it true..."
The elevator doors slid between them.
"...that doctors who can't, do research?"