Latest book: Just For the Summer
Buy Link: Barnes & Noble
BIO:
Jenna Rutland lives in a small Michigan community with her husband, son and senior cat. Her daughter and son-in-law have recently given Jenna the awesome title of grandmother!
While her days are spent working as a medical transcriptionist, her nights are filled writing contemporary romance—stories of love, laughter and happily ever after. Guess which occupation is more fun?
She is a member of RWA and is active in her local chapter. After several years on the MVRWA board, she now chairs the group’s annual fall brainstorming weekend as well as acts as food coordinator for several other events.
Jenna takes pleasure in spending time with her family. She also enjoys reading, gardening and loves the challenge of a new recipe.
She welcomes the chance to connect with writers and readers. Head to her Connect page to join her on Facebook or Twitter, sign up for her newsletter, or e-mail her.
Q: What’s the first thing you did when you received word you’d sold a book?
A: Jumped up and down, cried, called my husband, and then my sister to tell them my great news!
Q: Who is your favorite character in your book and why?
A: I love Sam. He’s a sweet little boy of eight who adores his father and longs for a mother.
Q: Do all your heroes and all heroines look the same in your mind as you “head write”?
A: Nope. I’ve got a precise image of them in my mind so they speak differently and have original thoughts. Otherwise, I’m afraid my books would sound like part 2 of the original.
Q: What hobby do you enjoy when not writing?
A: I love to garden (sore muscles and all), a new recipe is always a great challenge, and I love to read. My greatest joy is spending time with my husband, son, daughter, son-in-law, and beautiful granddaughter.
Q: What’s your strongest point as a writer?
A: I’ve been complimented on my dialogue and scene settings as well as pacing. I’m always trying to up the conflict!
Q: Facebook, MySpace, Blogs, Chats, or Twitter. Which do you like best and why?
A: I struggle with fresh ideas for my blog. I’m on the newbie side of learning Facebook. I feel most comfortable with Twitter because it’s short, quick and seems to be more “in your face.” LOL.
Tell us where to find you: website(s), publisher’s page(s), blog(s), Facebook page(s), etc. List them all!
Website: http://www.jennarutland.com/index.html
Blog: http://www.jennarutland.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JennaRutlandAuthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/jennarutland
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/jennarutland
Publisher: http://www.entangledpublishing.com/just-for-the-summer
BLURB:
His temptation. Her secret. Their summer.
Dani Sullivan has come to Lake Bliss to write her latest cookbook and take a breather. After the year she’s had, she deserves a summer retreat to reevaluate priorities and make peace with past decisions. But from the moment single dad and sheriff Matt Reagan shows up, she has a hard time convincing herself that a life away from Lake Bliss could beat the life she might have here.
Recently divorced Matt is ready for a new relationship, but he doesn’t want short-term—his son needs permanence, and so does Matt’s heart. Unfortunately, it’s the smart-mouthed and sinfully sexy Ms. Sullivan who catches his eye. But when Matt learns Dani’s secrets, will he still want her to stay? Or will her chance for love last just for the summer?
EXCERPT:
One of these children could be her son.
Dani Sullivan clutched the windowsill of her rented Lake Bliss bungalow and watched the small group of boys who played at the water’s edge. She searched each child for something familiar, desperate after eight years to see the sweet face of one little auburn-haired boy.
Would she recognize anything of herself in the child? Or would his features trigger an unwanted memory?
A woman clad in a floral one-piece bathing suit hustled out of a lawn chair. Her long blonde ponytail swayed as she rushed toward a boy wearing bright red swim trunks who stood near two other kids throwing sand. He wore a navy Detroit Tigers ball cap, and tufts of his brown hair peeked out the back. The shade reminded Dani of nutmeg, a color that matched her own curls at that age. The shape of his face and the way he’d run—swinging his arms like they were the source of his locomotion—seemed so familiar. So right.
Her son?
An image of a baby boy flashed in her mind. A newborn, wrapped in a hospital-issued blanket, dark-eyed with a tuft of auburn hair. Her beautiful baby, whom Dani had promised a happy life.
As another woman’s son.
Fueled by an overwhelming urge to get closer, she scurried onto the screened-in porch and grasped a wooden beam for support. Outboard motors roared on the lake, drowning out conversation. The woman appeared to scold the children next to him then guided the boy to sit on the end of the dock where it met the beach. The others gathered around. The woman removed the boy’s cap and tilted his head upward. The child swiped first at his right eye then at the woman’s hand.
That could be her son’s adoptive mother.
Nausea tightened Dani’s gut.
Without thought, she pushed open the screen door and took a few steps toward the beach. The sun was harsh on her face; the mixture of dried-out grass and weeds pricked her bare feet. She pulled her sunglasses from on top of her head and slid them onto her nose.
The voices at the beach escalated, and the woman grasped the boy’s hand. Once again, he swatted her away and rubbed his eye. She massaged her temple in apparent agitation.
Instinct kicked in. Dani jogged the few yards to the beach and made her way to where the boy sat on the dock covering his eye. “Can I help? I’m a nurse.”
The woman turned, her eyebrow raised in question.
“I’m Dani Sullivan, the new renter in cottage three. I thought maybe the boy needed help.”
The woman glanced at the child, then back to Dani. “I think he’s got sand in his eye. He won’t let me look, and I’m not sure what to do.”
Dani removed her sunglasses and squatted to get a better look at him, and he pulled his hand away from his face for just a moment. Though his eye was red, she didn’t see any sand on his cornea, and his eye was no longer watering. She took the opportunity to scan his eyelashes, his mouth, his nose. Did they resemble hers? She’d seen her son eight years ago for barely an hour. Would she even know if this boy was him?
He rose from the dock. The faintest hint of unease surfaced in his uncovered eye. “Don’t even think about giving me a shot.”
His comment surprised a laugh from her. She would have made a similar remark. “I promise—no shots. Okay?”
After a quick nod, he lowered his hand, uncovering his eye. She took a few steps closer, the sun-heated sand gritty between her toes. She concentrated on dragging the humid air into her lungs. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Sam Reagan.”
Sam. A name she knew but hadn’t chosen.
Her son.
