Did you enjoy the experience of writing about Niroli?
I found the experience challenging and fascinating, it was a real learning curve for me-a new area to explore as a writer.
Would you like to visit Niroli?
To be honest I feel as though I already have visited the island-I can even smell its warm scented air whilst I’m writing about it.
Which of the ‘Rules of Niroli’ would you least like to abide by?
All of them-I hate rules!
How did you find writing as part of a continuity?
Like I said I hate rules, and I found it very challenging! One always wants to give the reader the best possible read, and I found my imagination got tangled up in the complexities of writing for a continuity. Having said that, I also felt it was good for me as a writer to meet the challenge it represented.
When you are writing, what is your typical day?
I start work at around 9.30 am and normally spend the morning reviewing and editing the previous day’s writing. I then write in the afternoon, and the evening. Writing is my life and absorbs 75% of my waking hours.
Where do you get your inspiration for the characters that you write?
I let the plot lines inspire me and work from there trying to build up a character or characters who will logically fit into the emotional conflict I want to create. For me no character ever exists simply in the here and now of the story-I have to know their whole emotional makeup and the events in the lives that have shaped them from childhood.
What, in your opinion, makes a great ‘Modern’ hero?
For me a hero has to be compelling both sexually and emotionally, he has to be proud and strong and even perhaps a little arrogant, but he also-vitally important to me-has to have some vulnerability. He has to have a human side which allows us to sympathise with him and to see that here in this man there is something genuinely lovable. He also has at some point to show a willingness to understand that his love for the heroine is such that he must overcome whatever inbuilt mind-sets he has that are coming between them. Like this writer, he has to grow in awareness and self knowledge so that he can be worthy of his heroine’s love for him.
Tell us about the project you’re working on at the moment.
I’m sorry but I am rather superstitious about discussing my future writing in detail! But I do hope to go on creating truly memorable heroes and stories for the readers for many years to come!
Surgeon Prince, Ordinary Wife
MELANIE MILBURNE
MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MELANIE MILBURNE
I am married to a surgeon, Steve, and have two gorgeous sons, Paul and Phil. I live in Hobart, Tasmania, where I enjoy an active life as a longdistance runner and a nationally ranked top ten Master’s swimmer. I also have a Master’s Degree in Education, but my children totally turned me off the idea of teaching! When not running or swimming I write, and when I’m not doing all of the above I’m reading. And if someone could invent a way for me to read during a four-kilometre swim I’d be even happier!
To Bev and Darrell Croker, thank you for being there right from the start of this dream. Your continued belief in me has carried me through some of life’s toughest times. Love you both.
CHAPTER ONE
IF SHE hadn’t been running so horrendously late, she would never have taken the short cut in the first place.
Amelia let out a stiff curse as she tried to free herself from the rambling briar that had caught her as she’d climbed over the back fence adjoining the property of her last community health home visit of the day.
‘Well, what do you know?’ a deep male voice drawled from just behind her. ‘The legend is true after all—there are fairies at the bottom of the garden.’
she swivelled her head around to see a tall man looking up at her where she was perched so precariously, his black-brown gaze twinkling with amusement.
It was very disconcerting as he looked so very Italian with his deeply tanned olive skin and his thick, short hair so dark, and yet she couldn’t decide from his accent if he was American or British. He was even wearing what looked like an Italian designer shirt and trousers, the top four buttons of the shirt undone casually, leaving a great expanse of tanned, muscular chest on show.
‘Is this your house and garden?’ she asked, tugging at her lightweight cotton skirt to free it, with little success.
‘No,’ he said with a lazy smile. ‘I’m just renting for a few weeks, but the landlord didn’t tell me about the little bonus in the back garden. He should have charged me more rent. I would have gladly paid it.’
Amelia felt the colour begin to flare in her cheeks and, frowning at him, gave her skirt another little tug but it wouldn’t budge.
His smile widened, showing very white teeth as his dark gaze ran over her appraisingly, taking in her petite shape and elfin features. ‘Actually, I’ve changed my mind,’ he said. ‘You’re not a fairy. You look more like a pixie to me.’
Amelia had to force herself not to roll her eyes at him in disdain. ‘Actually, I am a community nurse who is now more than half an hour late to visit an elderly patient,’ she said through tight lips. ‘And if you or your landlord took better care of your garden I would not be stuck up here like this!’
He folded his arms across his chest, rocking back on his heels as his eyes glinted at her playfully. ‘And if you were not trespassing on private property you wouldn’t have been ensnared by that bramble in the first place.’ He unfolded one of his arms and waggled one long, tanned finger at her reprovingly.
She sent him an arctic glare and gave her skirt another vicious tug, but all she succeeded in doing was giving him a rather generous view of her thigh.
‘If you tug any harder on that dress, you’ll have me blushing to the roots of my hair,’ he warned.
Amelia knew she was the one blushing to her backbone. She had never felt so embarrassed nor so annoyed in her life. ‘Will you please leave me alone to extricate myself?’ she clipped out. ‘I would prefer not to have an audience right now.’
He put his hands up to his eyes. ‘I promise not to peek.’
She let out a tight little breath and began to attend to her skirt, but she could feel those dark, laughing eyes watching everything from between his deliberately splayed fingers.
She finally tugged one part free of the bramble and shifted position to attend to where her skirt had snagged on a nail on the fence.
‘Can I look now?’ the man called out.
