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This is my second involvement in an eight-book series, and while in some ways it’s much, much harder than writing solo in other ways it’s so much fun. Writing is normally such a solitary occupation—a bit like being an only child—whereas being part of a series is like being part of a large family. Not only do the other authors become my family, but our characters develop and grow together on the pages and form relationships that carry across all the stories.
I cannot wait to read the completed series and revisit my characters to see if they have managed to keep hold of their HEA :).
I really hope you enjoy a taste of LA glamour!
Happy reading,
Emily
EMILY FORBES is an award-winning author of Medical Romances for Mills & Boon. She has written over 25 books and has twice been a finalist in the Australian Romantic Book of the Year Award, which she won in 2013 for her novel Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist. You can get in touch with Emily at [email protected] or visit her website at emily-forbesauthor.com.
Falling for the Single Dad
(The Hollywood Hills Clinic, Book 2)
Emily Forbes
For Amanda, Ali and Sarah.
Thank you all for an amazing thirty-plus years of friendship. Together we somehow survived our teenage years, the fashions of the eighties, cross-country moves, marriages, babies and now our own teenagers! As we begin to celebrate another round of milestone birthdays I’ve been thinking about the incredible memories we’ve created along the way and how lucky I am to have such ‘old’ friends.
With love xx
Contents
THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN flashed intermittently into Abi’s peripheral vision as she wound her way up into the Hollywood Hills. Her heart rate accelerated as she drew closer to her destination and she felt her palms go clammy as her nervousness increased a notch or two. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, not wanting her hands to slip as she fought back the wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She hadn’t expected to feel quite so terrified today. She’d rehearsed this, she’d prepared for this. She could do this.
She had debated about catching a cab for her first day but had decided that if she could drum up the courage to drive that would give her the freedom that waiting for a taxi wouldn’t, and in order to prepare she’d done a trial run yesterday with Jonty. She’d needed to know where she was going and she’d needed to make sure it was safe. Bringing Jonty yesterday had given her courage and confidence but today she was travelling solo.
One more corner to go and then she was able to turn off the steep, winding road into the staff parking area for The Hollywood Hills Clinic. The iconic Hollywood sign loomed large above her again, its fresh white paint stark against the dull green and brown of the hillside and the shrubby flora that sprouted there. She swiped her card at the gate and waited nervously for it to open. The staff car park was secure, fenced and gated, and she was relieved to see the addition of good lighting and CCTV cameras. She breathed a sigh of relief as she squeezed her second-hand, two-door, soft-top 4x4 between two immaculately shiny sports cars.
She took a moment to sit quietly in her car as she summoned up the nerve to get out of the vehicle. It had taken all her courage to get into her car this morning and now that she was here she needed to find some more. Starting a new job and meeting new colleagues was going to test her limits. She was in the rebuilding phase, trying to cope with the stress of life, and anything unexpected could, and often still did, unsettle her. She needed to find the strength to get out of her car. She closed her eyes and rehearsed the process her psychologist had taught her. She imagined herself walking—no, not walking, striding—confidently into the building and introducing herself to her new colleagues. It would be fine. She could do this. This was a safe environment. She had a plan and she had to believe things would go accordingly.
She gathered her bag, took a deep breath and opened her door very carefully, mindful of the pristine paintwork of the car beside her. She’d made it this far this morning, she’d found the strength to negotiate the LA traffic and now she was here. She held a conversation with herself in her head as she stepped out into the morning sun and followed the sign to the clinic. A short path took her to the front of the building and as she rounded the corner the vista took her breath away.
The view was incredible. The crisp, blue February sky was clear of smog, just one of the bonuses of winter, and she could see over Los Angeles out to the coast where the Pacific Ocean shimmered in the morning sun. She turned her attention to the building itself. It was long and low, sleek and white. A massive wall of windows, shiny and gleaming, faced west, taking in the stunning view, and a semicircular driveway swept around in front of the glass separated from the building by a wide plaza bordered by sculpted, orderly, perfectly manicured gardens and hedges.
There was a low, unobtrusive sign of silver lettering on a white background that read ‘The Hollywood Hills Clinic’ in front of the building. Despite its name, the overall impression