Welcome to Nan Reinhardt, my best writing buddy, travel partner, and wine expert. (As in, she doesn't think a pretty bottle, a screw cap, and a $4.99 price tag are reasons enough to buy it.)
Nan is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 48 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake.
Q: Not only are you a prolific writer, but you’re also a freelance copy editor. What came first—writing or editing?
A: I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen, so the real answer is writing, but I’ve been a freelance editor since 1996 and my first book wasn’t published until 2012, so… you do the math. I love both my careers—editing is always challenging and I get to read a lot of great books and discover new authors. Writing is my heart. I can’t imagine me without it.
Q: The setting for your Tule books is the small town of River’s Edge, Indiana, which is full of quirky and fun secondary characters. Did you grow up in a small town?
A:I did not. I grew up in the suburbs of a big city, but ever since I read Anne of Green Gables, I’ve wanted to experience small town life. I get some of that at our lake cottage, which is in a small town, but mostly, I’m a city girl. That said, there are plenty of quirky characters in the city, too, so lots of inspiration.
Q: What is the most difficult part about writing for you?
A: The middle. My friend, author Liz Flaherty and I have a little saying that goes, “First is the meet-cute, the attracted, stuff happens, then there’s a conflict, and then the happily ever after.” It’s the “stuff happens” part that’s hardest for me, but if you let your characters go, they’ll usually come through.
Q: What is the toughest criticism you’ve received as a writer? The best compliment?
A: An editor once told me my hero was an asshole. Man, that one hurt, particularly because she was right. He was. I learned so much from her about characterization and story. I’ll always be grateful, but that was pretty harsh.
Q: Writing can be an emotional, stressful pursuit. Any tips for aspiring writers?
A: Breathe. Really. Just breathe. When you’re overwhelmed, step away, take a walk, have a glass of wine, weed a garden, read a book, watch a movie, absorb some story. You’d be surprised how much it helps to just step away for a few hours.
Q: What did you want to be when you grew up?
A: For a while I wanted to be an archeologist—in 4th grade, I learned about Howard Carter and the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb and I was fascinated. But then I found out Egypt was hot and there were scorpions, so… In high school for a while I wanted to go to Paris and be a translator—I’m an unabashed Francophile. But between those, I was writing and I knew one day, I would be a writer. Being published was dream I didn’t dare to express out loud, but wow! It’s an amazing ride!
Q: Favorite book when you were a kid?
A: Every book I read—seriously. But the one that made me want to be a romance writer was Gene Stratton-Porter’s The Harvester. David Langston was the ultimate romance novel hero—I highly recommend it!
Q: And here is a question that everyone loves: If you could choose three people, living or dead, to invite to a dinner party, who would they be and why?
A: My mom because I miss her; Dorothy Parker because she’s funny and quick and I think we’d get along great; and Carole King because she seems like such an intelligent, gentle soul and after dinner she could sing for us.
Talk to Nan at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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Falling for the Doctor, Book 2 in the Lange Brothers Trilogy
They were in it for the fun, but never expected the storm…
Life for hometown ER physician Dr. Max Lange has always been sweet. He loves his job and is dialed in socially with his family, friends, and community. But lately, something feels like it’s missing. When a visiting doctor pulls him in for a hot kiss and asks him to play along in order to avoid unwanted attention from a hospital administrator, Max knows exactly what he wants and needs—the lovely Dr. Mitchell.
After a tragic error shakes her confidence beyond repair, Dr. Lauren Mitchell has abandoned her career in cardiothoracic surgery and instead works as a lead medical consultant for a top cardiovascular technology company. She enjoys her simple life on the road—hotel rooms, room service, and no emotional entanglements.
When a violent storm throws her into service at St. Mark’s hospital, Max has only a few days to prove to Lauren that they belong together, while she must reevaluate her career…and her life. Will Max’s love be enough to make River’s Edge and Max her home?
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“Thanks.” Lauren smiled, packed up her iPad and phone, and shoved them into a leather messenger bag that she slung over her shoulder. Walking away, she stopped a few feet from the table. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Johnson.” She gave him a brief nod. “See you tonight, Max.”
Whew. She’s going to meet me!
At least he hoped that was what her farewell meant. With a mental shrug, Max settled back into his chair and scraped the last of the chicken and noodles from the plate in front of him. When he looked up, Chris was staring a hole in him, one brow raised cynically. “Come on, Max.”
“Come on what?” Max took a slug of milk, then swiped his paper napkin across his lips and beard.
“Who is she?”
“We told you. She’s Dr. Lauren Mitchell, cardiothoracic surgeon, currently a consultant for Cardiotronics. We met in Baltimore a few months ago and—”
“Your right eye twitches when you lie, Max.” Chris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It has ever since I met you freshman year in Bloomington. I imagine it’s happened your whole life. I could ask your mother. She likes me.”
Max offered a pointed glance and unwrapped his brownie.
Chris continued to stare at him. “I know this is crap because you’ve been in the ER with me for the past four days and I’ve not seen that woman once. Not one time. Plus, I know you. If you’d found that gorgeous creature in Baltimore, you’d have been crowing about it because you don’t date, and if you were dating the good Dr. Mitchell, you wouldn’t be able to resist telling me. And I haven’t heard so much as a peep out of you about her in—what’s it been since the conference?” He counted the months on the fingers of one hand. “February, March, April… It’s almost May. Three months.”
Max sighed. “You’re quite the detective there, Sherlock. Think you could’ve missed your calling?”
Chris chuckled. “Nope. My eight-year-old could’ve doped this one out. I’ll stick to medicine.” He pushed his plate away, set his elbow on the table, and cupped his chin in his palm. “So spill it.”
Max debated, but only briefly. Chris was no hospital gossip. He was his best friend and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to process a bit because, by God, he was darned curious about Dr. Lauren Mitchell. “I’ve never seen her before she threw herself at me”—he peeked at his smart watch—“thirteen minutes ago.”