On Call Series by P.D. Singer (Books 2, 4, 5)
Requirements: ePUB reader 1 MB
Overview: PD Singer lives in Colorado with her slightly bemused husband, two rowdy teenage boys, and thirty pounds of cats. She’s a big believer in research, first-hand if possible, so the reader can be quite certain PD has skied down a mountain face-first, been stepped on by rodeo horses, acquired a potato burn or two, and will never, ever, write a novel that includes sky-diving.
Genre: Romance MM
On Call: Dancing #2: “It’s all a prelude to the horizontal tango,” Dante tells Keith, and drags him to the dance club, two left feet or no. Work has a way of chasing this doctor and vet couple down — the victims of a car crash need their help more than they need a night out. But a night in, tending an injured dog, can be filled with landmines… and music.
On Call: The Collection #4: The new doctor in town, Keith Hoyer has to relinquish care of his new patient, veterinarian Dante James, to privately treat their mutual cases of incurable attraction and terminal romance, complicated with relapsing lust.
Their backgrounds are different, their practices accidentally overlap, and their pasts have some hidden traps to negotiate. A fat, injured tabby cat, a truth-extracting, wounded dog, and a teen with a heartbreaking secret need Keith and Dante’s help. Every patient, furry or human, brings them a little closer together. Even the angry weasel.
Set Up #5: “Say hi to Doug at the car show.” Just because Keith is a good pal, has good intentions and has great taste in men doesn’t mean Terry wants his own personal matchmaker. With his luck and past experience, he and the man Keith set him up with would hate each other on sight. Besides, Terry can’t look for the elusive Doug: he’s too busy ogling a certain gorgeous 1949 MG TC.
The sleek roadster stands out even among a field of classic beauties, and so does the driver. Is it too much to ask that the guy forget about Terry making a fool of himself over the right hand drive and sexy red fenders? Not likely he’ll forget Terry accidentally flinging a bowl of coleslaw at his chest.
If terminal embarrassment isn’t bad enough, now Terry’s had a dental disaster, leaving him with two choices: stay in agony for days, or see the new man in the practice.
Terry’s at the office by one thirty sharp. And he’s parked next to a red MG.
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