Uprooted has just been contracted for publishing by Pink Petal Books!

Release date TBC in November 2009.

Horticulturist Marianne Dawson thinks she's hit her head pretty hard when she wakes up in hospital to the handsome face of Dr. Noah Campbell. They hit it off, but the emergency ward is too busy to get friendly. Mari's delighted then, when Noah turns out to be the blind date she agreed to as a favour for a friend.

Noah finds himself falling for Mari's sharp wit and ready smile, but his life's complicated enough as it is - he's just found out he has a twelve-year-old daughter, and he needs serious help becoming a father. With Mari's help, however, the sulky girl blooms, and they start to form a family.

But Mari's struggling with her own internal demons, and what will she do when a difficult choice threatens everything she and Noah have built together?

Excerpt

Tall and lean, Mari had never seen a man fill out a doctor's white coat better. His hair, a rich chocolate, glinted under the hospital strip lighting, picking out strands of coffee-dark and caramel-light brown. It looked like he might've styled and combed it earlier in the day, but through the day he'd obviously run his fingers through it, tousling the mass and causing a few tendrils to hang over his forehead, giving him a boyish, unkempt look.

Her gaze dropped to his face, drinking in beautifully sculpted cheekbones, a strong jaw, and eyes of an intense sea green.

"That's me," she said when her brain started to work again.

"I'm Dr. Campbell. How are you feeling?" he asked gently. "Have you been offered any pain relief?"

"Not yet." She rubbed her hand over eyes that still gave her a slightly fuzzy view or Dr. Dreamy. "I only just woke up."

"Okay." He wrote something on the clipboard he held. "I need to ask you some questions. Is that all right?"

"Sure." She closed her eyes. The headache subsided a little.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Do you have a history of any serious medical conditions?"

"My grandmother had pretty bad asthma."

He made a note - she heard the quiet stroke of his pen on paper. "Do you feel nauseous or feverish?"

"No."

"Does it hurt to look at the lights on the ceiling?"

She opened her eyes and directed them towards the strip lighting. "My head still hurts, but no more than usual."

"Where exactly is your headache, right now?"

She cautiously hovered her hand over the sensitive spot in her forehead. He made a noise that might have been a chuckle.

"What's funny?" Mari asked.

He sobered immediately. "I'm sorry. Nothing."

Mari resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "At least laugh with me and not at me. I could do with a good laugh right now."

Indecision plastered his face, and then he said, "I'm guessing you received this injury by being smacked in the head by the handle of a rake."

Grudgingly impressed, Mari asked slowly, "How do you know that?"

"Because the name of the local hardware store is imprinted in your forehead."