In the Moment by Jennifer Wilck ❤️ Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway ❤️ (Contemporary Romance)

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Cassie Edwards, a former foster child, purchases an 1870s Victorian mansion, the one home from her childhood where she felt like part of a family. She’s spending her summer lovingly restoring it, with dreams of one day raising a family of her own here. Rayne Tucket, a photojournalist, is haunted by the death of his best friend in Afghanistan, a death he thinks is his fault. He survives day to day. Forever is not in his vocabulary. Swearing off photography, he answers an ad for a handyman—mindless, no emotion involved. As the two of them renovate her house, can Cassie show Rayne that love is strong enough to heal all wounds?

Warm, hazel eyes and the smell of roasted coffee greeted her.
“Hi.” The one word came out breathless, as if she’d run a marathon. She cleared her throat. “Hi,” she repeated, in what she hoped sounded more confident.
A dimple flashed behind his cup, and she groaned to herself. Rayne was going to give her a hard time.
“Hello.” He paused. She could almost hear his unspoken repetition of the greeting. He winked, and she rolled her eyes. He laughed. The deep, velvety sound made her toes curl. “Your friend says you’re looking to hire a handyman.”
Cassie leaned against the table, aware her friend listened to their every word as she delivered Rayne’s sandwich and retreated to the kitchen. “My friend has a big mouth,” Cassie ignored Sally’s sputter.
“Do you have experience doing landscaping and outdoor cleanup? You saw my house. It needs fixing up—mowing, yard work, tool repair, that kind of thing. Although I was kind of hoping for someone permanent, like a local teen, who could take care of the outside while I focus on the inside.”
“I’ve been doing all kinds of manual labor, including landscaping and construction, these past few months. I could help you until I have to leave at the end of July.”
“She could definitely use your help,” a muffled voice interrupted.
Cassie swung around. She frowned at Sally, who’d poked her head out the kitchen doorway. “What are you doing, Sal?”
“Helping you out. You told me you need help with that big house and barn. Mr. Tucket is perfect. Look how big and strong he looks.”
Rayne shifted in his seat, but she ignored it. “You can call me...” he said. “It’s a carriage house, Sal, not a barn. I know how much help I need, or don’t. Plus, you didn’t even give him a chance to decide if he wants to do the work!”
“You can call me Rayne, and I’m happy to help—”
She turned toward Rayne’s voice but spun back toward Sally when she interrupted. “See, he just said he’d help. He’s practically a local, and he doesn’t look like a convict. Hire him and stop being so stubborn.”
Cassie brushed off the choking sound from Rayne and glared at Sally. Her friend would be the one to choke in a minute if she didn’t butt out of her business. Sally ignored her.
Cassie grabbed a glass of water and handed it to Rayne, who drained it in one long gulp. She turned back to her friend, hands on her hips. “Practically a local? He hasn’t been here since he was a child. You’re the one who said he might be a convict, not me, when you were worried that I’d let a stranger mow my lawn!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cass. I remember hearing about the Montgomerys from my mom. She always liked them. He comes from a nice family, so we have nothing to worry about.”
Cassie balled her hands into fists. “We? What ‘we?’ I haven’t decided yet if I’m hiring him.”
“Excuse me, ladies, but could I speak for a minute?” Rayne interrupted.
“What?” they both asked in unison.
“Like I said, I’m happy to work for you, if you’re hiring, Cassie. I can even provide references if you’d like.”
The look he gave her was so reasonable, so polite, so...sexy, she wanted to shake him as much as she wanted to kiss him.

When I was a little girl and couldn’t fall asleep, my mother would tell me to make up a story. Pretty soon, my head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Each character had a specific personality, a list of likes and dislikes, and sometimes, even a specific accent or dialect. Even as an adult, I think about the characters and stories at night before I fall asleep, or in the car on my way to or from one of my daughters’ numerous activities (hey, anything that will drown out their music is a good thing).

One day, I started writing them down (it was either that or checking into the local mental hospital—the computer was way less scary) and now I'm a published author. My first book, A Heart of Little Faith, was just declared a Finalist in the Fiction: Romance category of the 2016 Best Book Awards.

In the real world, I’m the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men I know. I enjoy spending time with my family and friends, reading, traveling and watching TV. In between chauffeuring my daughters to after-school activities that require an Excel spreadsheet to be kept straight, I run youth group activities, train the dog we recently adopted from a local shelter, and cook dinners that fit the needs of four very different appetites. I also write freelance articles for magazines, newspapers, and edit newsletters.

When all of that gets overwhelming, I retreat to my computer, where I write stories that let me escape from reality. In my made-up world, the heroines are always smart, sassy and independent. The heroes are handsome and strong with just a touch of vulnerability. If I don’t like a character, I can delete him or her; if something doesn’t work, I can rewrite it. It’s very satisfying to be in control of at least one part of my life. My inspiration comes from watching the people around me and fantasizing about how I’d do things differently.