Who is Cait Jarrod?
A native of Virginia, Cait lives with her husband and three daughters. After the death of her mother, she wanted a way to connect, if that is possible, so she started reading for pleasure, her mother’s favorite pastime. After the first contemporary novel, she was hook and consumed romantic suspense novels thereafter. So much so, that she put pen to paper and wrote. Four years later, her first book was published.
Is your novelette part of a series? Why did you decide to write a novelette instead of a novel?
Rekindled isn’t part of a series, but I’m hoping to write a few more this year. I think people like the idea of picking up a book they can read within a few hours.
What do you think reader will enjoy most about your novelette?
The idea of a second chance. So many wish they had one more shot with the one that got away.
Did you use a critique partner or group to help with revisions and editing?
I do. I’m very fortunate to have a group of ladies, The Coffee Talk Writers, which critique and beta read. I also have some fantastic critiquers on the online writing community, Scribophile. I also have a dear friend, Norma Redfern, that reads my work before anyone else.
What piece of advice would you give a new author?
To keep writing, even when you think you’re not connecting all the dots. Write until the manuscript is done, then set it aside for a while, before revising. During the second revision, the plot, and characters will development. The clunky issues will smooth out. The third and fourth revision will fine-tune it even more.
Is being an author your primary career?
It is, along with homeschooling my daughters, well daughter, my oldest two have graduated and are in college.
How do balance writing with all of life’s responsibilities?
Good question, and add social media into the mix, and it’s hectic. I make myself close my laptop at certain times.
What is one of your favorite quotes?
“If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion, it doesn’t matter a damn how you write.”
– Somerset Maugham
What do you see as your next project and when can we expect it?
I’m in the process of polishing up a novel, Bachelor Auction, revising another, and writing the sequel to Kidnapped Hearts. With any luck, another novel will be release by the end of the year. I’d hope that I would be done with Bachelor Auction by now, but it wasn’t in the cards. Polishing novels takes a lot time.
Angie Kilpatrick, a CEO in the pharmaceutical world, has achieved everything she set out to do, yet lives with regret for walking away from the only man she’s ever loved. A decade later, she has the chance to fix her mistake. Instead of a happy reunion, she finds an angry man and another who puts her in a problematic situation.
Shots are fired and Angie is on a quest once again to locate for her lost love. What she discovers is the man she thought was gone from her life forever.
A short excerpt from Rekindled:
The mist ended and clouds shifted. The moon’s light seeped through the covering while stars twinkled. Off to the side of the lot, three picnic tables grouped together under a pavilion. No streetlights, no cars … privacy.
He straddled the bench, propped his elbow on the worn surface, and rubbed between his eyes. The beginnings of a headache forming, the same type he had weeks after Angie left him in bed naked. For the longest time, he thought he’d hurt her during sex. Why else would she leave with no explanation?
A year later, when he decided to let a woman into his life, she purged him of the notions that he would hurt a woman. They married not too long after and he’d thought the world of her.
His head snapped up. The shadow of a woman stood outside the pavilion. He didn’t have to see her to know that voice, a little deeper than when they were teens, yet still as sensual.
Damnit, why’d she follow him? “Angie.” He kept his tone void of excitement, no hint that this reunion tugged at his heart. One glimpse at her sitting across the bar talking to the bartender and emotions that he’d lost years ago stirred.
“Can we talk?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, the lure of her voice tempting. A grown up now, he’d have to refuse to kick, scream, or punch something, but he wanted to. His eyes snapped open. “Why talk now?”
She moved toward his side of the table and sat next to him. A flowery scent drifted and heat radiated off her. A hunger tugged at his libido, weakening his resolve.
“I need to explain.”
He remained silent. Anything he said would be interpreted as either forgiving or cold. Neither an option.
“The night … in August.”
“I’m aware of the night.”
“At that time, I had no choice, but to leave.”
He jabbed his hand on his thigh and stared at her. “No choice?” His voice lost its calmness, and the words slipped out edgy.
The moon cast a glow over the area and he observed her for the first time since they were teenagers. A pretty teen had grown into a gorgeous woman. The geekiness had disappeared, replaced by a confident, determined businessperson. Wavy hair framed her oval face and touched her shoulders. The skin pulled tight around her mouth and her lips parted.
An overpowering desire to taste her seized him by the testicals, and he groaned.
“No.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and her gaze slid to his mouth before resting on his eyes. “I—”
When her teeth scraped her plump bottom lip, the restraint he worked so hard to build, collapsed. He touched her cheek with his palm and she leaned into it, her eyes hazy with lust. A hand touched his arm and despite the clothes separating them, a jolt of awareness ran through his body. He swallowed. The next move he wanted to make wasn’t a smart one given the outcome of their last encounter. Yet, he leaned close, pressed his forehead to hers, felt her warm breath against his face.
Her steady breathing splintered and she released the air as if she ran a mile. “Dennis.” Her voice squeaked as if pained. “Kiss me.”
For fifteen years, he wanted to be in this position. Almost couldn’t bear the thought of never being able to sample her again. From where his hand stroked her face, her pulse increased. “Are you wet for me, Angie? Do you want me?”
She moved her head an inch up and down, barely noticeable. “Yes.”
“Now, you know.”
She flinched and met his eyes. “What?” Her words questioned.
“How it feels?” He straightened. “This time, you’ll see me walking away and you won’t spend the next fucking five years wondering what you did wrong.”
“No, Dennis. Don’t do this.”
He knew he was an ass, but the hurt from missing her, pining over her, came to the surface. “I searched every college in New England and the surrounding states. Do you have any idea how many colleges are in this country? I do, too damn many. You didn’t go to the college you told me; you didn’t have the decency to tell me you wouldn’t see me again. And you’re gonna sit there and say, don’t do this?” His voice rose as he spoke and he sucked in a deep breath. Unhinged from the pain, his body stiffened wanting her so bad that his dick wouldn’t relax, regardless of his anger.
“Fuck! I can’t live through that again.”
Other books by Cait Jarrod
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