Tuesday, January 07, 2020
Poplar Mountain is Over. Introducing The Best Medicine by Dellani Oakes
Poplar Mountain is over. I had in mind something else to post, but I changed my mind. This is a story I was thinking of publishing, but I can't seem to get that done. The Best Medicine is the first book in my Love in the City Series. It's the book that not only started it all, it introduced several of my favorite characters.
When I started this book, several years ago, I wanted to place it in a big, busy city. However, I don't live in a large metropolitan area, and I'm not familiar enough with places like New York or Chicago to make it plausible. Instead, I made up my own. I never gave it a name, because I couldn't come up with something that didn't sound like it came out of a soap opera or comic book. Instead, it's referred to by residents as the city.
Since The Best Medicine, I've written (or am working on) 50 more in the same city. I call these books my Love in the City Romances. One of my favorites, So Much It Hurts, is available from Tirgearr Publishing.
I love my made up city and its residents. They have become like family to me. One character, introduced in this novel, is such a favorite, I've used in many more books. Honestly, I've lost count how many. When you meet Cullen, you'll understand.
The Best Medicine does get a little hot in places, but I'll try to tone it down for the website. I will also mark the hot spots as they are posted. I hope that you will enjoy The Best Medicine as much as I do.
Excerpt from The Best Medicine - Chapter One
Tanya O'Toole walked briskly down the hall to the semi-dark room where a wall full of X-rays and MRI's awaited her. Slipping her reading glasses unobtrusively onto her nose, she shoved the door open with a tired sigh. She'd worked a double shift, covering for another of the doctors who was recovering for an emergency appendectomy. She was exhausted, but doing her best to remain alert.
"It's what I get for changing my emphasis at my advanced age," she mumbled as she straddled a stool and examined the images before her.
She was hardly old, but she felt it when she had to keep pace with her younger peers. Sometimes she felt more like a babysitter than a colleague. Putting a microphone up to her full lips, she dictated her findings on the set of films in front of her.
"The patient is a fourteen year old male. Radiographs of the left wrist with comparison views of the right wrist are submitted for evaluation." She took her glasses off, wiped them on her blouse and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Stifling a sigh, she continued. "Multiple views of the left wrist show that the distal radius and ulna are intact and are unremarkable. There is normal bony development." She continued in a bored tone of voice giving the pertinent information to the transcriptionist.
Her readings would be typed up and filed with copies sent to the physicians. Their office staff would call and give the news, in this case, good. The bones were not broken, just a nasty sprain. She wondered how the teenager had injured his wrist, but knew she would never find out. That was the only thing she missed, the interaction with the patients. However, since her grandmother's death, she felt compelled to become a radiologist, rather than the family practice doctor she had initially trained to be.
Gran's death was unexpected. A healthy woman of seventy-five, she'd developed a rare form of Cancer which had gone undetected and untreated until it was too late to save her. Taking action was something Tanya did well and she had promptly changed the emphasis of her residency. It meant more training, but she didn't regret the decision. If she helped even one person catch a problem before it progressed too far, she would feel validated.
Her dedication and passion about her work encompassed her life. She did nothing social, attended no parties, except for those required by her position. She didn't even date much anymore, though she would go out in small groups occasionally. She even watched episodes of Grey's Anatomy and laughed. There was no hot humping in the on-call rooms or supply cupboards. Those people obviously didn't work for a living.
"Honey, you need to relax," her mother fussed the last time she'd been home. "You're exhausted. You know you aren't as young as you were."
"Thanks, Mom. You always make me feel so good about myself," she'd snapped.
That was two weeks ago, and she hadn't even called her mother since. It was on her list of things to do, but she was too tired for the inevitable arguments that seemed to enter into every call. She knew her mother spoke out of concern, but it still annoyed her to have her age pointed out to her like a frailty. She was thirty-two, not sixty.
© 2020 Dellani Oakes
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