Latest Book Deal

I’m so excited to share that I’ve been offered a three-book deal by Harlequin Special Edition, an imprint of HarperCollins and a huge force in the romance genre. The mini-series will be Jewish holiday focused, and take place during Rosh Hashanah/Yom Kippur, Passover, and Hanukkah.

Thanks to my agent, Cathie, this manuscript finally has a home. Someday I’ll go into explanation of how exactly this manuscript came to be, but for now I’m just going to say that I think it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be, and I can’t wait to get to work on it. Both my agent and my editor completely understand what to do with this book, and I am so glad to finally get it out into the world.

 

Writing Jewish romance is incredibly satisfying from a personal standpoint, because I get to create characters who are familiar to me (nope, still not based on me or anyone I know). But it’s also important for those books to get out into the world. Representation matters. As a white person, I have incredible privilege. But as a Jewish woman, those rights are not always guaranteed. And even though there are incredible authors who are marginalized in ways I will never experience, Jewish romance is also often pushed to the side, waiting for someone who knows what to do with it. The more books published by Jewish authors, the better it will be for Jewish writers in the future. And, quite honestly, the more books published by marginalized authors from any background, the better it is for all of us.

 

So if you haven’t yet read a book by a marginalized author—authors of color, LGBTQIA+ authors, Jewish authors, Muslim authors, Indigenous authors, Asian authors, to name just a few, go out and find them. Read them. Review them. Talk them up with your friends. Suggest them to your book clubs. Borrow them or request them from your libraries. You may just find your newest, most favorite author.

Oy

It’s been a week (or two). A week of holiday celebrations and puppies (and peeing) and car accidents (all is fine) and family get-togethers and friends hanging out and on and on and on. We’re fine, it’s fine, I’m fine. Lots of excitement, both good and bad, lots of appreciation that things weren’t much worse, and lots and lots of cooking and cleaning. And eating. Don’t forget the eating.

No wonder I’m exhausted. I actually spent almost all of Saturday in bed, and I never do that. Probably because as someone who works from home, that’s a terrible habit to develop…at least for me. 

 

Anyway, I’ve got a little less than two weeks to get back to normal before everyone descends again and we have three to six weeks of chaos. I plan to spend that time writing and editing. At least I hope to do so. 

 

In the meantime, if you’re looking for a short holiday read, I’d love for you to try my Hanukkah novella.

 

And if you haven’t yet signed up for my newsletter, don’t forget to click here. I’ll be having lots of new book news shortly!

 

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

 

Hanukkah 2020

Hanukkah in a pandemic.

I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it does. It’s a holiday I treasure because it brings us, as a family, closer together. While it’s not a major holiday by any means, reserving time each night to gather around the menorahs, light the candles, and find a little something special to do each evening, is the equivalent of sharing a family meal together. We bond. We laugh. We talk. 

 

This year, we still do those things. I’m lucky enough to have my girls home for the holiday. They are both healthy. The four of us can be together. Our immediate family traditions haven’t changed.

 

But other things have. 

 

We didn’t have our big family Hanukkah party this year. Instead, we FaceTimed and texted and did quick present drop-offs. No cousins going off laugh together, no hugs.

 

We celebrated one night with my parents, from a distance. How do you do that? Well, here’s one suggestion:

 

Plan for celebrating Hanukkah with grandparents, COVID edition:

1) If possible, FaceTime. If not (for example, if suggesting FT will cause a riot), move onto step 2

2) Invite them to arrive at sundown--since that occurs at 4:30, no dinner is involved (aka, no eating without a mask).

3) Wear masks. No hugs or kisses. Sit over THERE and don't move!

4) Provide candles for grandparents' menorah, having determined that our orphan candles burn waaaayyyy faster than their fancy ones. 

5) Strategically arrange menorahs so we are far away from each other, but in some sort of line so that six people can be in the photo (probably not possible, but...)

6) Do not serve latkes or fried Oreos (see reason #2).

7) You may only drink if you're willing to drink through a straw. Yeah, I didn't think so.

8) Spend the half hour the candles are burning yelling back and forth since you're sitting across the room wearing masks (I knew an open floor plan would come in handy).

9) Candles burn out, BYE!! 

Miss Manners is gonna kill me. Unless of course, she wants to be safe, too. Then maybe I’ll get a one-year pass.

 

We also didn’t celebrate with our friends. No “have menorah, will travel” and no “fried Oreo extravaganza.” Not this year. Traveling and extravaganzas are frowned upon. 

 

I get it. I really do. I support being extra careful. I’m the one who tells everyone not to do anything, not to forget their masks, to wash their hands again, to skip the hugs. But it’s been nine months and it’s getting old.

 

We still have the light and the warmth of the candles. Especially this year, lighting the darkness is important. And maybe, this year, we ARE the light in the darkness. The ones (of many, but not nearly enough) who follow the rules, who keep others safe, who find joys in the forced proximity. Maybe we’re showing our will to survive so that when this is finally over, we’ll celebrate the darkness that didn’t overtake us, and the light that we passed on to others.

 

Wear a mask. Get vaccinated. Be the light.

 

It’s Release Day!

My Hanukkah novella, Waiting for a Miracle, releases today. It’s a sweet romance (just kissing—sorry, but it takes place over 8 days and well, that’s all I could manage), e-book only and short. I’d love you to take a look.

And if you read it, please review it!

Blurb

Benjamin Cohen, widowed father of six-year-old Jessie, is doing his best to hold it together through order and routine. The last thing he needs is his matchmaker mother to set him up with her next door neighbor, no matter how attractive she is.

Rachel Schaecter's dream of becoming a foster mother is right within her grasp, until her meddlesome neighbor tries to set her up with her handsome son. What's worse? He's the father of her favorite kindergarten student! She can't afford to let anything come between her and her dream, no matter how gorgeous he may be.

Can these two determined people trust in the miracle of Hanukkah to let love and light into their lives?

Excerpt

Six-year-old bodies were good at many things— bouncing, hugging, and racing. Rachel was thankful they were also good at hiding her surprise. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine her favorite student, and her student’s father, would be at her neighbor’s house the same night she was invited to celebrate Hanukkah. 

She met the hard gaze of Jessie’s father across the room. Eyes narrowed as if he suspected her reasons for being here. His broad shoulders were stiff. His jean-clad muscular legs were spread apart in a solid stance. Square hands fisted at his sides, and one of them held a menorah. Did he plan to throw it or club someone with it? 

Giving Jessie a last pat, she rose. With an arm around Jessie, she extended her other hand to her father. “Happy Hanukkah.” 

“Ms. Schaecter.”
“Mr. Cohen.”
“Oh, please,” Harriet said, “Such formality between 

you two. Rachel, this is my son Benny. I mean Benjamin.” 

Benny. Rachel filed the information away for later, along with his flushed skin at the nickname. Interesting. 

“And Benjamin, this is my neighbor, Rachel. We’re not at a school event. You can call each other by your first names.” Harriet pointed at Jessie, who gripped Rachel’s hand so hard, Rachel’s fingers lost their circulation. “Except for you,” Harriet added. “You have to call her Ms. Schaecter.” 

Jessie giggled. “Yes, Grandma.” 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZMQ2BWZ

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/waiting-for-a-miracle-jennifer-wilck/1134117349?ean=2940161018385

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/waiting-for-a-miracle/id1484912207

Barnes & Noble Book Signing

Another weekend, another book signing.

I know that sounds so blasé. I don’t mean it to. Every time I get to sign books, I’m excited. There have just been a lot of them lately, and the activity will continue until Thanksgiving.

This time, it was at Barnes & Noble. Whoa. Just looking at that makes me feel like a real author (cue Sally Field). Just because my books are available at online retailers, doesn’t mean they are carried in brick and mortar bookstores. And when Barnes & Noble offer book signings, they generally like to carry the books of the authors they promote. Luckily, as time has gone by, they’ve realized that as long as they are ABLE to get them in one way or another, they can host the author. Or maybe it’s luckily for me.

The store manager of the Barnes & Noble is a big romance fan (not all managers are) and contacted my local chapter of romance writers, looking for authors who would like to attend her event. Of course, I volunteered.

It was a great day. There were seventeen of us there and they put us smack in the middle of the store—you’d be surprised at how often we’re shuffled off into an alcove where no one knows to visit us. There was even a sign advertising some of us. And streamers! 

I was excited to see so many of the authors I know on social media but haven’t had the chance to meet in person. Authors are fun to be around, especially romance ones. We chatted and laughed with each other and with customers, and sold books! And, I made connections—both with the store manager, who will now invite me to other events, and with other writers, who will include me in events they find out about. So it was a great success.

Next week, I’m signing at an independent bookstore in Montgomery, NY. I hope you’ll stop by if you’re in the area!

And if you haven't heard, my Hanukkah novella is up for preorder on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iBooks! Only $1.99. Order now and it will magically appear on your e-reader on December 2!

Have You Heard About My Hanukkah Book?

The excitement of signing a new contract, revealing a new cover, and announcing a release date for a book never gets old. And with that in mind, I’m happy to share the cover and back cover blurb for Waiting for a Miracle, my short Hanukkah novella that releases December 2.

Benjamin Cohen, widowed father of six-year-old Jessie, is doing his best to hold it together through order and routine. The last thing he needs is his matchmaker mother to set him up with her next door neighbor, no matter how attractive she is.

Rachel Schaecter's dream of becoming a foster mother is right within her grasp, until her meddlesome neighbor tries to set her up with her handsome son. What's worse? He's the father of her favorite kindergarten student! She can't afford to let anything come between her and her dream, no matter how gorgeous he may be.

Can these two determined people trust in the miracle of Hanukkah to let love and light into their lives?

I can’t wait to share this Hanukkah story with you!

My Hanukkah Story

The romance world is becoming more diverse, and Jewish characters add to the lovely tapestry of colors, religions, customs, sexual orientation and genders that today’s story depict.

As a Jewish author, some of what I write is considered “own voices.” By writing characters who are Jewish, like I am, I bring an authenticity to my stories that non-Jewish writers can’t necessarily achieve. But writing Jewish romance is more than just writing Hanukkah stories. It’s inviting Jewish characters to the table—into the small towns, the big cities and everywhere in between. It’s acknowledging there are more holidays than just Christmas—and I happen to be a Jewish author who LOVES Christmas romances, so no yelling at me, please—and that weddings don’t just happen in churches. It’s food and faith and funny anecdotes that come from years of experiencing the inclusiveness of my own religion, while also, at times, the exclusion of others.

So when people hear I write Jewish romance and they respond with, “You should write a Hanukkah story!” I smile and sigh. Although they’re only touching the tip of the iceberg, they mean well, and if people like reading Christmas stories, it stands to reason they’d like reading Hanukkah stories, too. 

With that in mind, I’m pleased to announce that I’ve written one, and that my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, has agreed to publish it this holiday season.

Since I have such a conflicted opinion about Hanukkah stories, why did I write one? Well, an author who self publishes decided she wanted to publish a Hanukkah anthology with eight other authors, and opened submissions to everyone. The stories had to be short—15,000 words or less—something I’d never done before. How in the world would I be able to develop characters, story arc, conflict and a satisfying ending in so few words? But after almost every author who knows me said I should enter a story, I did it. It was out of my comfort zone, but I was proud of what I wrote. As with all submissions, a lot depends on luck, and my story wasn’t chosen. So what to do next?

Well, I mentioned to my current publisher that I had this Hanukkah story that I’d written, asking if they had any holiday anthologies planned for next year—I really didn’t think anything was possible for this year. And after hearing about it, she told me she didn’t have one planned, but she’d love to see the story and potentially publish it on its own this year. 

This was in July. Hanukkah is in December. That’s not a lot of time, and I don’t want to publish less than my best just to make a deadline. But I trust my publisher and my editors. If they think it’s possible, they’ll do it, and it will be good. After some expanding of the plot and editing, I received a contract.

The story, Waiting for a Miracle, will be released sometime this holiday season (we’re still waiting on a specific release date) in e-format only. And despite my ambivalence about Hanukkah stories, I really do like this one. My characters don’t live in a bubble. Their neighbors celebrate Christmas, and the decorations, sights and smells are easily woven into the setting of my story. There’s a child and a pesky grandmother and food—three of my specialties—and of course a hot guy and a smart heroine.

The fact that everyone who hears I write romance with Jewish characters tells me to write a Hanukkah story means we still have a ways to go before we achieve full inclusiveness (ask any author of color and they’ll agree, as well). But in the meantime, I hope you’ll enjoy this story, and I’m tremendously thankful to my team at The Wild Rose Press for once again, taking a chance on me.

Happy Chanukah!

Tomorrow night is the start of Chanukah and this year is going to be a very different type of celebration.

To start with, the Princess will still be in school for most of it, so we won’t get to celebrate with her until the last two nights of the holiday. I picked out and wrapped her presents, as well as included an electric menorah for her to light in her room. I mailed her the ones she can open at school. And we hope she’ll be able to call or FaceTime us while she does it, even though she’s in the middle of finals. But it won’t be the same.

Chanukah’s not a big holiday, and even though it falls around Christmas usually, it’s NOT a Jewish version of Christmas. But it is a holiday and I like to gather my family around during that time. Short of a very select few things that absolutely can’t be skipped, everyone is expected to be at home, together, while we light the candles. That often means they leave afterwards, but for that half hour each evening, we are together.

It also means most of the traditions will fall on Banana Girl—putting up the window clings, lighting the electric window menorah (which I have never liked), and making gelt. The presents have been sitting out, wrapped, since I started purchasing them—I was very organized this year, which even surprised me—and there’s only been some of the interest level in them, probably because we’re missing a child. Although Banana Girl did show concern when she counted and didn’t see enough presents for the entire holiday (that’s because some of the orders haven’t come in yet, despite my best intentions).

We’ll be FaceTiming the grandparents in for the first time, and I’ll be introducing a whole additional group to the joys of fried Oreos. This year, the family Chanukah party is at my house. I still haven’t quite perfected the food pairings that go with fried Oreos, but I suspect no one will care. And I think even my husband got a little carried away with the amount of Oreos needed this season.

So, like everything else in this year of change, things will be different. And while I hate change, I have to admit that it’s been fun trying to figure out new traditions and balancing the old ones.

To all those who celebrate, wishing you a very Happy Chanukah!

Chanukah Miracles

The sunlight is reflecting off of the metallic Chanukah decorations hanging from my windows, creating jewel-toned prisms on my walls. Every dreidel we’ve ever owned is piled into the ceramic dreidel bowl, waiting to be spun. The electric menorah, which I hate, sits in the window ready to be lit, where it will compete with the blue and white Jewish star lights our neighbor down the street has already lit. Chanukah snow globes and music boxes and candles—who decided we needed decorative candles for this holiday and why do I have them—are placed on display strategically around the house. Decorative plates are stacked, waiting for the homemade gelt, latkes and fried Oreos to be made. The only thing left to do is to put out our personal menorahs and candles when Chanukah actually arrives.

There is a fine line between decorating for this holiday and making my house look like the Chanukah fairy threw up in it. No, there’s no Chanukah fairy. Chanukah’s miracle is the oil that lasted eight days, rather than one. It’s the victory of the Maccabeas over the Greeks. And for me, it’s the fact that no matter how much people have inflated the holiday in an attempt to compete with Christmas, it still remains a non-commercialized fairly minor holiday.

That’s not to say I won’t insist on celebrating it with my family. This year, it falls over winter break and we’ve already had the discussion about whether or not the Princess can go out with her friends at night during Chanukah. My response? Of course, as long as you’re home to light the candles first. Because there’s a difference between a minor holiday and an unimportant holiday. And if we let the celebration slide, the miracles disappear.

I think we’ve taught that lesson well. It was the Princess who asked me last week when we were going to decorate for Chanukah. Sure, the “we” really meant “Mom,” but even she wants the decorations up. The wish lists were made, but it’s the traditions we’ve established that the kids talk about: making latkes from scratch, making fried Oreos, decorating, inviting friends over to celebrate with us—this year, the Princess even wants to invite her non-Jewish friends.

So I’m going to add to that list of Chanukah miracles. I’m going to add my children’s desire to celebrate the holiday, when so many other things have fallen by the wayside. That even though there aren’t a lot of gifts being opened, they’ve separated out the gift-giving from the holiday-celebrating, and they still want to participate. They’re growing up, but not out-growing, this holiday. And that’s what I will be thankful for these upcoming eight days of Chanukah.