Not A Mistake: Release Day & Excerpt
Due to some unforeseen circumstances, I’m up in the wilds of Northern California on my release day–not exactly the place I’d imagined experiencing Not A Mistake‘s entry into the world. In fact, my non-writing life conspired to make the week leading up to release day pretty rocky, and that left me busier than usual, and undeniably stressed out. So much so that I took heart in what a fellow clergy woman told me over email: A lot of crap had been coming her way at church, so she told herself that if Jordan (the book’s heroine) could handle it, so could she.
So I decided I too would cope with things the way Jordan did in the book. After all, I CREATED her and dreamed up her fabulous catch 
phrase, “Love them like hell”–surely I could live up to her brave, compassionate example! When I said as much online, my awesome writer pal Ruby Lang made me this little gem: WWJoD?
I’m not saying Jordan’s perfect. Who would want to read a book about a woman like that? But I put all my ideals into her, and so it was cool that when life was making me feel less than ideal, I found I could cling to her example. It got me through, and every challenge I faced worked out with much help from several of my amazing colleagues.
I sent out so may ARCs for this book, and it’s been thrilling to know it’s in readers’ hands!
Here’s a quote from one of my favorite early reviews:
“In her humorous, sexy, and above all compassionate story, Belldene combines romance and religion with a respect for the passion that lies at the heart of both. And with a respect for a woman’s agency and power that is all too rare in Inspirational Romance.” — Jackie Horne, Romance Novels for Feminists
The passion at the heart of both?–Yeah, baby! That’s why I write romance novels. Reading this review was one of those angels singing moments for me as an author 
Here’s a short excerpt from Not A Mistake:
Be warned, it might tempt you into eating a doughnut. Hopefully it might also tempt you into buying the book. We’re in Dominic’s point of 
view here, and he’s just about to give a presentation about his research into clergy sexual misconduct for a group of priests.
“I take it you’re feeling better?”
“Uh huh,” she mumbled, pointing at her full mouth and chewing, her eyes showing the tension of what might be a grimace, had her mouth been free to make the expression.
On second look, she was still a little green around the edges. He couldn’t imagine two donuts was the recommended breakfast to recover from the stomach bug.
“Should you be eating that?”
She wiped a pink sprinkle from her mouth with the back of her hand. “Doctor’s orders. Don’t get hungry. Keep something in my stomach.”
Interesting advice. But what did he know? He hadn’t had a stomach bug since he was in diapers.
“What are you doing here?” Her whisper was strained, as tense as her eyes had been.
Right. This wasn’t any easier for her. What did she feel? Shame, guilt, plain old now-that-we’ve-had-sex-everything-is-different awkwardness?
He raised his arm and pointed his laptop’s remote at the screen. The cover of Sins of the Fathers appeared.
“You’re presenting? I thought Dan—”
“He has the same stomach bug as you, apparently. Why you aren’t in bed—?”
“I’m not your student anymore. Stop bossing me around.” She set down her plate to cross her arms.
God. Why on earth was that so cute? And he’d never once bossed her around, simply advised her academically. Which had been a true pleasure—she’d been sharp and dedicated.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m simply concerned for your health.”
“Oh, is that what you’re feeling?” She glanced back to the screen then leaned close. “Because I would have guessed you are feeling like Swiss cheese, eaten up by guilt and regret.”
His shirt shrunk another size, right there on his body. How did she know him so well? He who made a point of being known by very few people.
She buttoned up her jacket and hoisted her purse up higher on her shoulder. “I can’t stay here and watch you talk about this book while trying not to reveal your self-loathing.”
He scanned the crowd to make sure no one was watching them, then leaned close to whisper. That delicious sandalwood scent clung to her, stirring the parts of him deeper than reason, or right and wrong. “Then accept my apology and stay.”
To his shock, tears shone in her eyes. Oh, hell. He’d made her cry.
“I can’t, really. I’m sorry for that, and for so many things. But I just can’t be sorry about what happened. I don’t want to take it back, or call it a mistake.”
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