OTHERWISE ENGAGED by Susan Mallery - Spotlight & Excerpt

 

A twisty, tender, and wise look at how secrets can transform the powerful—and sometimes problematic—bond between mothers and daughters.

When Shannon gets engaged, her beloved mom, Cindy, is the first person she wants to tell—and the last. Cindy’s engaged, too, and has already hinted at a double wedding. The image of a synchronized bouquet toss with her mom fills Shannon with horror. She’ll keep her engagement a secret until Cindy’s I-dos are done.

Victoria has never been proper enough for her mother, Ava, so she stopped trying. She lives on her terms and amuses herself by pushing Ava’s buttons. Ava loves but doesn’t understand her stuntwoman daughter. When a movie-set mishap brings Victoria home, Ava longs to finally connect.

Chance brings the four women together at a wedding venue, where a shocking secret comes tumbling out. Twenty-four years ago, desperate teenager Cindy chose wealthy Ava to adopt her baby—then changed her mind at the very last second. The loss rocked Ava’s world, leaving her unable to open her heart to the daughter she did adopt, Victoria. As Shannon and Victoria deal with the fallout from the decisions their mothers made, they wrestle with whether who they are is different than who they might have become.

EXCERPT

How does the horse look?

Victoria Rogers pressed her good arm to her very bruised, almost broken ribs. “Dad, don’t,” she said, trying to stay as still as possible. “You can’t be funny. It already hurts to breathe. It wasn’t a horse.”

Her father frowned. “I was told you were thrown off a horse.” “I was thrown out of a truck.”

“Then how’d you get the black eyes?”

“The ground was a little bit pissy when I hit it and punched me back.”

There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t hurt. The good news was that now that the medical staff had determined she didn’t have a head injury, they were going to give her drugs to help with the pain. She’d already said she didn’t want any of that weak-ass pill stuff. She wanted a nurse to give her a shot of something that would work instantly and let her rest. Because in addition to the bruised ribs, requisite scrapes and contusions, she had a broken left leg and a sprained wrist. Her previously dislocated shoulder also throbbed, but that was kind of the least of it.

As she lay in her hospital bed, feeling like death on a tortilla, she had the thought that maybe stunt work wasn’t for her. Injuries came with the job, but this was the third time in five years she’d landed in the hospital. The first time she’d messed up, so that was on her, but the other two had just been plain bad luck. The incident with the truck had come about because one of the tires had blown, causing the however many ton vehicle to jump the curb—an action that had sent her flying up and over the side. Gravity, being the bitch it was, had flung her onto the sidewalk. Hence the injuries.

Her father studied her, his brows drawn together in concern. “None of this makes me happy,” he told her.

The incongruous statement nearly made her laugh. She remembered—just in time—that her ribs wouldn’t appreciate the subsequent movement and they would punish her big-time. 

“Today isn’t my favorite day either,” she admitted, trying not to groan. “I didn’t wake up with the thought that I should try to get thrown out of the back of a pickup.” Although technically getting thrown out of the truck had been the stunt. Just not when it had happened and without warning or a plan.

“I’m worried,” her father told her. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“This time.”

She winced, and not from pain. “Now you sound like Mom.” 

Her father, a handsome man only a few months from his sixtieth birthday, brightened. “Thank you, Victoria. That’s such a nice thing to say.”

Given her weakened condition, she let that comment slide. Honestly she didn’t have the strength to deal with it right now, even though she knew her father understood exactly what she’d been saying. He was only pretending to not get it.

“If you’re going to act like that, you should go,” she said, then amended what could be construed as a catty comment into something more kind. Mostly because she only had the emotional energy not to get along with one of her parents, and her mother had already claimed that prize. “Besides, they’ll be bringing my drugs any second. I plan to surrender to sleep, so I’m not going to be very conversational.”

As if to prove her point, one of the nurses walked in with a syringe. “Ready to feel better?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes, and let me say, you’re my favorite person ever.” 

He winked. “I get that all the time.”

He slowly injected whatever the medication was into her IV. Victoria drew in a shallow breath as she waited to feel that first blurring of the edges of the pain. Modern medicine was a miracle she intended to embrace.

The nurse left. Milton took her good hand in his.

“I’ll let you rest,” he told her. “But I’ll be back later tonight.” He squeezed her fingers. “Tomorrow, when you’re released, I’m taking you home.”

Ugh. Victoria knew that her father wasn’t talking about the pretty condo he’d bought her when she’d turned twenty-one. Instead he meant the house where she’d grown up. The one where her mother still resided.

“I don’t need to move back,” she protested, feeling the first telltale easing of the pain. “I have a few bumps and bruises.”

“Along with a broken leg. And what about your ribs? You can barely move without wincing.”

“I have zero pain tolerance. I’m a total wimp.”

He frowned. “You’re tough and stoic. If you’re showing signs of pain, it’s bad. You’ll stay with your mother and me until you’re well enough to be on your own.” He pointed at her. “I mean it, Victoria. You don’t get a vote.”

Her father was rarely stern with her, so his sharp tone warned her he wasn’t kidding. And she knew from twenty-four years of experience that arguing with the man would get her nowhere. Milton didn’t take a stand very often, but when he did, he was the immovable object.

“I wish you loved me less,” she murmured, feeling a little floaty and stumbling over her words. “Okay, I feel drugs. Let me enjoy the experience of breathing without, you know, wanting to die.”

Oh, baby girl. You’ve always been difficult.”

“I know. It’s one of my best qualities.” Her eyes drifted closed. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you more.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Come alone.”

His soft chuckle was the last thing she heard.

Excerpted from Otherwise Engaged by Susan Mallery, Copyright © 2025 by Susan Mallery Inc. Published by MIRA Books. 

Susan Mallery is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of books about the relationships that define women's lives—romance, friendship, family. With compassion and humor, Susan keenly observes how people think and feel, in stories that take readers on an emotional journey. Sometimes heartbreaking, often funny, and always uplifting, Susan's books have spent more than 200 weeks on the USA Today bestsellers list, thanks to her ever growing legions of fans.

Critics, too, have heaped praise on "the new queen of romantic fiction." (Walmart) Booklist says, "Romance novels don't get much better than Mallery's expert blend of emotional nuance, humor, and superb storytelling," and RT Book Reviews puts her "in a class by herself!"

Although Susan majored in Accounting, she never worked as an accountant because she was published straight out of college with two books the same month. Sixteen prolific years and seventy-four books later, she hit the New York Times bestsellers list for the first time with Accidentally Yours in 2008. She made many appearances in the Top 10 before (finally) hitting #1 in 2015 with Thrill Me, the twentieth book in her popular series, the Fool's Gold romances, and the fourth of five books released that year.

Susan lives in Seattle with her husband, a ragdoll cat, and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur. Her heart for animals has led Susan to become an active supporter of the Seattle Humane Society. Animals play a big role in her books, as well, as she believes they're an integral component to a happy life.

Visit Susan online at https://www.SusanMallery.com