Welcome! I’m fortunate to be able to do what I love, which is to write romance novels, in particular, Harlequin Superromance. I love to hear from readers! email@example.com
My tenth Superromance is in bookstores NOW until the middle of June. It’s called ALWAYS EMILY and I’m really thrilled that it’s been receiving wonderful reviews. Here is a little of what’s being said about it…
RT Book Reviews: 4.5 stars
“Sullivan does an excellent job of tying everything together, and making Emily and Salem’s relationship seem right, in this technically and emotionally intricate novel. The intense attraction between the two and the resolving of their issues is emotionally satisfying.” Alexandra Kay
All About Romance: B+
“The plot was golden and exciting with well developed characters—even at the secondary level. Emily is a spunky protagonist who is simply a thirty-something trying to face her demons in her home town after her career becomes less enjoyable. Salem is a great hero because he is noble and classy.” Allie Jackson
Turning the Pages: 5 stars
“Full of substance, laughter, drama, a fantastic plot and a perfect romance this one was a home run for me and I can’t wait to read more of Mary’s romances in the near future because if they’re anything like Always Emily, then she’s found her new number one fan.
I would recommend Always Emily to all fans of Harlequin SuperRomances, contemporary romances set in small towns and those looking for a romance that has a great plot, and a second chance love story.” Kimberly May
Cataromance: 5 stars
“ALWAYS EMILY offers intrigue, romance and a bit of mystery to entice and entertain the reader. Always count on gifted Mary Sullivan for an extraordinarily romantic read.” Donna Zapf
ALWAYS EMILY, as one can expect from author Mary Sullivan, is very skillfully written. I read it in one sitting over a very enjoyable evening, caught up in the small-town world that seemed to flow easily around characters I soon felt I knew very well. Within a few pages, I was caught up in Emily’s attempt to escape from the Sudan and by the time she reached home, I was eager to know Salem’s side of the story.
Mary Sullivan’s ALWAYS EMILY explores themes of bullying, redemption from past errors, and bigotry, while immersing readers in a lovely romance between two people who have known each other for decades but still need to learn to trust. There is enough excitement in the plot to drive the story forward, but the core, as it should be, always centers around Emily and Salem’s intersecting lives. I highly recommend ALWAYS EMILY by Mary Sullivan. It is a wonderfully satisfying read if you are craving happy endings.
Here’s the back cover copy:
This time, it has to be forever…
Emily Jordan has been in and out of Salem Pearce’s life for years. As an archaeologist, her work often took her far away—even when he asked her to stay. She called it bad timing. He called it running away. Now she’s back and asking for one last chance.
But Salem is a single father with more than himself to think about. If he gives Emily another shot and she takes off again, it’ll hurt his daughters, too. He can’t take that risk. But deep down, he needs Emily. He always has. Maybe this time she’ll stay…
She’d spent too much time in the past and not enough paying attention to the present, to her self slipping away from her so slowly and subtly she’d been stripped bare without knowing it, left skinned and vulnerable with nowhere to turn but here.
So dizzy her stomach roiled, she clung to the bannister. Her hands shook again, this time more from greed than illness.
She wasn’t sure what.
She only knew that she was exhausted with the struggle to keep herself in one piece.
She forced one foot in front of the other. On the second floor landing she stopped to catch her breath, like an old woman on her last legs, so close to finally achieving…what?
On the landing on the third floor she stopped and stared at Salem through glass walls.
He bent over his desk, over a book, his attention focused and disciplined, as was his way. His dark straight hair hung in a braid down the center of his back.
This close to him, peace enveloped her. It settled over her with the softness of a flannel blanket. This, he, was exactly who she needed. She wanted to lay her head and her troubles on his broad chest.
When she swayed, it alerted him to her presence.
His jaw fell, his expression equal parts shock and anger. She knew she’d flitted into and out of his life too many times. Oh, Salem, I’m home. For good.
He stood, dropping the book onto the desk.
His simple male beauty stunned her. Why had she stayed away when perfection had been here all along?
He came to the door. “Emily?” His deepening frown reminded her of their argument.
When are you going to stop running, Emily?
Now, she thought. I’m not going anywhere anymore. Honest.
She felt herself slipping, falling.
“Emily!” He caught her before she hit the floor, his arms strong and dependable and oh so welcome.
“Salem,” she whispered. “I’m sick.”
Salem lifted her and carried her off. Her head fell against his solid shoulder. She didn’t know where he took her. It didn’t matter.
She’d made it home.
NO ORDINARY COWBOY re-released!
My books started with a series about a small town named Ordinary, Montana, in which a rancher named Hank Shelter owned a ranch called The Sheltering Arms. In NO ORDINARY COWBOY, Hank brought inner-city children to his ranch to recover from the trauma of having had cancer. Always, he sent each child home with a small white Stetson. Over the years, that amounted to hundreds of children, who remained devoted to him throughout their lives.
The heroine, as could be expected, comes to the ranch to tell him he doesn’t have enough money to keep the ranch going, so he must sell, which breaks his heart. The story is about their struggle to come to terms with vastly different philosophies.
This month, Harlequin has re-released that first Superromance in their Western Romance Collection, with a brand new, very lovely cover.
There’s an excerpt from NO ORDINARY COWBOY below.
Amy saw Hank outside her window with his hands cupped in front of him. His shirt and pants were dirty and wet, as though he’d been lying in mud and water. A moment later, she understood why. He squatted in front of the toad house in the garden, the one about which little Cheryl had been so curious. Hank set a toad down on the soil then placed the toad house on top of it.
Amy stretched her neck to watch as he snuck around the front corner of the house.
She heard the front door open.
Hank called, “Where’s Cheryl?”
Amy tiptoed to her door and peeked out. Hank stood in the hallway. The kitchen door opened and Cheryl came out in her miniature overalls. Hank scooped her into his arms and grinned. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks broadened, framing his white, white teeth. Hank had a smile that could light airport runways.
Something happened in Amy’s chest, a bubble rising from somewhere near her solar plexus.
Carrying Cheryl to the front door as though she were a rare hothouse flower, Hank exited the house, saying, “I got a surprise for you, darlin’.” The bubble rose a little higher in Amy’s chest.
She ran to the window and waited for them to round the corner of the house, her heart pounding an odd skipping rhythm.
Hank set Cheryl on the ground in front of the toad house, then knelt beside her.
“Crouch down here and I’ll show you something.”
Cheryl said, “‘Kay,” and mimicked his stance.
Amy had trouble swallowing around the bubble that had risen into her throat.
Hank picked up the toad house. The toad hopped out. Cheryl screamed and jumped against Hank, grabbing him around the neck.
He laughed. “This little guy won’t hurt you.” He took Cheryl’s hand in his own and placed it on the toad’s back.
“He feels cool.” Cheryl’s voice shook, with fear or fascination—Amy wasn’t sure which—but the child didn’t pull her hand away. She kept it on the toad’s back, tucked under Hank’s big palm.
Amy thought she could almost feel Hank’s hand on top of her own, the surrounding safe warmth of it, the rough calluses, the dampness from the June heat.
The bubble rising in her burst out of her in a joyful laugh. Hank looked up at the open window.