Book Excerpt: Perfectly Reasonable by Linda O’Connor

Love what you do and do what you love. Sounds perfectly reasonable, but chances are, you’ll find your passion in the last place you look . . .

Margo MacMillan finished medical school, but in the process, her self-confidence and self-esteem took a beating. So for the sake of self-preservation, she’s stepped away from medicine to re-group. In the meantime, painting soothes her soul and pays the bills.

Trace Bennett set his sights on a medical degree and has to prepare the perfect medical school application. His big plan is to paint his condo for a little feng shui divine luck. When Margo shows up to paint, he realizes he’s found exactly what he’s looking for. He just has to convince Margo to share more than the art of medicine.

She’s got it. He wants it. It’s Perfectly Reasonable.




“It has to be done by Tuesday,” he insisted.

Fat chance of that happening, considering it was already Friday afternoon. Too bad. He really was . . . breathtaking. “No can do. I have another client lined up for next week.”

“Bump them.”

Her eyebrows winged up. “I can’t do that. They’re waiting for me, and I promised to start Monday.”

“Trades do it all the time.”

She frowned at him. “Not me. If I say I’m going to start a job on Monday, I start on Monday. You’ll have to find another painter.” Her curls bounced as she turned to go.

“Wait.” He touched her arm, and Margo felt a zing of electricity shimmer through her. “You could do it this weekend.”

“I don’t work weekends.”

“I’ll pay double.”

Margo looked him in the eyes. Eyes that were icy pale blue, almost silver, and too intense to focus on, except they were set in a chiseled face with a square jaw and the most disarming smile.

Her fees were already pretty high. What could possibly be so urgent that he’d pay twice what it was worth?

She glanced around the room. Big open space and pristine beige walls. Sleek leather furniture. Glass, metal, and a zebra-skin rug. And staged for a cover shoot.

What was the deal? Was he desperate to erase the memory of a girlfriend? It was more than possible with the combination of those low-slung jeans, gray T-shirt showing off broad shoulders and flat abs, and that close-cropped blond hair. He towered over her, and she was taller than average. Yeah, it was definitely possible. Or maybe a new ladylove he had to please? She raked her gaze over him. Nah. He wouldn’t need a new paint color for that.

She sighed and thought of the student loan she had yet to pay off. If she prepped the walls that evening, she could probably get the painting done by Monday. “All right. But I’d have to start tonight and come back early Saturday and Sunday.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Not a problem. I can be here.”

“Have you chosen the paint color?”

“No, but it has to be blue.”


“Yes. Pale blue, gray-blue, dark blue, I don’t care. Just as long as it’s blue.”

She shrugged. “Okay then. I’ll bring over some paint chips later and you can choose. You’ll have to make a decision tonight, so I can stop on my way tomorrow to pick it up.”

“I can do that. And I’ll invite some of my buddies over to move the furniture.”

“That would be great. Just push everything to the center of the room. I can cover it with plastic.”

Trace nodded. “Thank you for this. I really appreciate it. I’ve heard you’re the best.”

She smiled. Charm and good looks. He’ll go far. “You’re welcome. I’ll finish the job next door and come back at about seven.”

“Works for me. See you then.”


Author Bio

Linda has been writing romance novels for three years and sincerely thanks Debby Gilbert at Soul Mate Publishing for the ultimate encouragement to her writing – with the leap to publishing. She has many titles including Doctor, Mom, and proud Canadian, but “Linda O’Connor – hereinafter called the Author” is one of the sweetest.

Contemporary romantic comedies are her favorite novels to read and write. Linda balances writing with her work as a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic and being a mom to three sons (luckily grown and capable of throwing together a decent meal, in a pinch). She also likes to keep active and cycle, cross-country ski, skate, walk with her husband or dance every day.

Laugh every day. Love every minute.

Author Website:

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Purchase Link

amazon UK



An Open Letter: Sisters Forever [Part One]

Thank you so much for gracing my blog with your presence! When I was a kid, my elder sister told me in not so many words to memorize the countries of the world and its flags but because I was not a diligent student, I didn’t. 😛

Today, I’m looking for at least one person from each country to greet my sister and wish her well. Here is why. ❤


Earlier this year my elder sister Ate[1] Mae was advised by the doctors to undergo a thyroid surgery. Scared, my sister refused. We’d convince her and she’d say yes and then she’d say no again. Needless to say, we’ve had plenty of arguments since and right now she’s nowhere near to saying yes again.

I have no doubt I can convince her again but at the same time, I wanted her to feel relaxed, to feel as at ease as she possibly can given the circumstances and this is where I need your help.

You, yes you, the one reading this, I’d like to appeal for your compassion. If you could write a line or two to help my sister find her courage in order to face this I’d be truly grateful. To our friends and relatives reading this, if you could send Ate Mae an empathy card, an ecard, or if you could type a comment below please do. It would mean the world to me. I just want her to know that even if she’s the one going under the knife, she’s not truly alone in this, that the entire world is behind her.

Thank you for reading this post and I hope everything is going your way wherever you are in this world. If you want to get to know my sister, please read on.



My elder sister Ate Mae and me.

I had never known the love of our parents.

Our mother died when I was only ten days old and our father shipped off leaving my sister and me under our maternal grandparents’ care, our brother under our paternal grandparents.

As a result, my eight year older sister Ate Mae tried very hard to make up for that loss. She became a mother, a father, a sister, a brother to me all rolled into one. Ate Mae always had my back. For as long as I can remember, she always took care of me. Always.

While the other kids had their moms or dads to teach them how to read, count, and tell time I had her to do that for me instead. While the other children had their moms or dads to tuck them in and tell them bedtime stories, I had our grandma, but Ate always made sure I was fine before heading to her own bed. While the other kids had their dads giving them airplanes and piggy back rides, I had Ate Mae do that for me.

Where other children her age played outside, Ate Mae stayed inside to help our ailing grandparents do the household chores and take care of her baby sister. Where the other children had their parents buy their toys for them, Ate saved money whenever possible so she could buy me a balloon, a candy, or plastic balloon, or tea party play sets, teapots, and dinnerware. And because there was never really enough money to begin with, my creative sister improvised.

Sure, she bought me paper dolls, but she made most of it. She drew images on the cardboard, cut it out, color the hair, draw its body parts, and painstakingly design its clothes. Ate Mae made sure my paper dolls had plenty of clothes for each type of occasions: gowns for parties, Sunday dresses, house clothes, pants, shorts, tank tops. Ate Mae also sewed dresses for the Barbie doll our Uncle Dieg got for me when I turned seven.

My sister’s motto was always Josephine first. When I started going to school and had needed help with anything? Did I have projects, drawings, assignments? Ate Mae did everything without me even asking. I was not a diligent student so she wrote my notes on my spotless notebooks whenever the teacher required it; I only had to inform her. I needed a lunchbox? Ate Mae prepared it for me.

She spoiled me rotten. I cannot count the things she did for me, there were so many, and she did those out of love.

My brave sister for once, is scared. Ate, you need not be. The entire world will be thinking of you and praying for you. This time we got your back. This is my promise to you.

[1] Meaning older sister.