That Summer Place: Old Things/Private Paradise/Island Time

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Overview

It's nothing special on the surface, merely a rambling old Victorian summerhouse on a secluded island, where the sky is blue and the water is clear. Yet after a month at the Rainshadow Lodge, people begin to change—and fall in love. How else can you account for what happens to the most mismatched, unlikely couples?

There's Beth, who's stuck sharing the lodge with a complete stranger—and a difficult one at that. And Mitch, a workaholic on a deadline who has to depend on ...

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Overview

It's nothing special on the surface, merely a rambling old Victorian summerhouse on a secluded island, where the sky is blue and the water is clear. Yet after a month at the Rainshadow Lodge, people begin to change—and fall in love. How else can you account for what happens to the most mismatched, unlikely couples?

There's Beth, who's stuck sharing the lodge with a complete stranger—and a difficult one at that. And Mitch, a workaholic on a deadline who has to depend on free-spirited Rosie, who functions on "island time." Not to mention Catherine, who's falling in love with Michael, the lodge's handyman—for the second time!

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780778321194
  • Publisher: Mira
  • Publication date: 7/28/2005
  • Pages: 320
  • Product dimensions: 5.10 (w) x 7.90 (h) x 0.90 (d)

Meet the Author

Debbie Macomber

Jill Barnett is the New York Times bestselling author of fifteen acclaimed novels and short stories. There are more than five million copies of her books in print in seventeen languages. Her work has earned her a place on such national bestseller lists as The New York Times, USA Today, The Washington Post, and Publishers Weekly. She lives in the Pacific Northwest. Visit her website at www.jillbarnett.com.

Debbie Macomber is one of today’s leading voices in women’s fiction. A regular on every major bestseller list with more than 140 million copies of her books in print, Debbie’s popularity is worldwide with her books translated into twenty-three languages. Debbie and her husband,Wayne, are the proud parents of four children and grandparents of eight grandchildren. They live in Washington State and winter in Florida.

Biography

Publishing did not come easy to self-described "creative speller" Debbie Macomber. When Macomber decided to follow her dreams of becoming a bestselling novelist, she had a lot of obstacles in her path. For starters, Macomber is dyslexic. On top of this, she had only a high school degree, four young children at home, and absolutely no connections in the publishing world. If there's one thing you can say about Debbie Macomber, however, it is that she does not give up. She rented a typewriter and started writing, determined to break into the world of romance fiction.

The years went on and the rejection letters piled up. Her family was living on a shoestring budget, and Debbie was beginning to think that her dreams of being a novelist might never be fulfilled. She began writing for magazines to earn some extra money, and she eventually saved up enough to attend a romance writer's conference with three hundred other aspiring novelists. The organizers of the conference picked ten manuscripts to review in a group critique session. Debbie was thrilled to learn that her manuscript would be one of the novels discussed.

Her excitement quickly faded when an editor from Harlequin tore her manuscript to pieces in front of the crowded room, evoking peals of laughter from the assembled writers. Afterwards, Macomber approached the editor and asked her what she could do to improve her novel. "Throw it away," the editor suggested.

Many writers would have given up right then and there, but not Macomber. The deeply religious Macomber took a lesson from Job and gathered strength from adversity. She returned home and mailed one last manuscript to Silhouette, a publisher of romance novels. "It cost $10 to mail it off," Macomber told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel in 2000. "My husband was out of work at this time, in Alaska, trying to find a job. The children and I were living on his $250-a-week unemployment, and I can't tell you what $10 was to us at that time."

It turned out to be the best $10 Macomber ever spent. In 1984, Silhouette published her novel, Heartsong. (Incidentally, although Heartsong was Macomber's first sale, she actually published another book, Starlight, before Heartsong went to print.) Heartsong went on to become the first romance novel to ever be reviewed in Publishers Weekly, and Macomber was finally on her way.

Today, Macomber is one of the most widely read authors in America. A regular on the New York Times bestseller charts, she is best known for her Cedar Cove novels, a heartwarming story sequence set in a small town in Washington state, and for her Knitting Books series, featuring a group of women who patronize a Seattle yarn store. In addition, her backlist of early romances, including several contemporary Westerns, has been reissued with great success.

Macomber has made a successful transition from conventional romance to the somewhat more flexible genre known as "women's fiction." "I was at a point in my life where I found it difficult to identify with a 25-year-old heroine," Macomber said in an interview with ContemporaryRomanceWriters.com. "I found that I wanted to write more about the friendships women share with each other." To judge from her avid, ever-increasing fan base, Debbie's readers heartily approve.

Good To Know

Some outtakes from our interview with Macomber:

"I'm dyslexic, although they didn't have a word for it when I was in grade school. The teachers said I had 'word blindness.' I've always been a creative speller and never achieved good grades in school. I graduated from high school but didn't have the opportunity to attend college, so I did what young women my age did at the time -- I married. I was a teenager, and Wayne and I (now married nearly 37 years) had four children in five years."

"I'm a yarnaholic. That means I have more yarn stashed away than any one person could possibly use in three or four lifetimes. There's something inspiring about yarn that makes me feel I could never have enough. Often I'll go into my yarn room (yes, room!) and just hold skeins of yarn and dream about projects. It's a comforting thing to do."

"My office walls are covered with autographs of famous writers -- it's what my children call my ‘dead author wall.' I have signatures from Mark Twain, Earnest Hemingway, Jack London, Harriett Beecher Stowe, Pearl Buck, Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, to name a few."

"I'm morning person, and rip into the day with a half-mile swim (FYI: a half mile is a whole lot farther in the water than it is on land) at the local pool before I head into the office, arriving before eight. It takes me until nine or ten to read through all of the guest book entries from my web site and the mail before I go upstairs to the turret where I do my writing. Yes, I write in a turret -- is that romantic, or what? I started blogging last September and really enjoy sharing bits and pieces of my life with my readers. Once I'm home for the day, I cook dinner, trying out new recipes. Along with cooking, I also enjoy eating, especially when the meal is accompanied by a glass of good wine. Wayne and I take particular pleasure in sampling eastern Washington State wines (since we were both born and raised in that part of the state).

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    1. Hometown:
      Port Orchard, Washington
    1. Date of Birth:
      October 22, 1948
    2. Place of Birth:
      Yakima, Washington
    1. Education:
      Graduated from high school in 1966; attended community college
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

That Summer Place


By Macomber, Debbie/Wiggs, Susan/Barnett, Jean

MIRA

Copyright © 2005 Macomber, Debbie/Wiggs, Susan/Barnett, Jean
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0778321193

San Francisco, 1997

Catherine Wardwell Winslow spent a week last winter at a time management seminar where the experts stood up on a big stage and told her that Wednesday was the slowest day of the work week.

They lied.

Catherine rested her chin in her hand and stared at her phone. It was a Wednesday, barely nine in the morning, and already four of the five phone lines were frantically blinking. She didn't know which one to answer first. So she didn't answer any of them.

Her life would be so much easier if she were one of those robots you see in the cartoons, the kind with slot machine eyes, a ball-bearing nose, and those spindly metal arms and slinky legs that jerk with every movement.

Like Rosie the Robot in The Jetsons.

But Catherine wasn't in a space-age home that looked like the Space Needle. She was in her San Francisco office on the third floor of a restored Victorian. The building was just one of many candy-colored, gabled houses on a steep and narrow street that now held offices for dentists, attorneys and other professionals.

The last line buzzed obnoxiously and began to blink like the others. She groaned and closed her eyes to escape. Her imagination took over. In her mind's eye she was Catherine the Robot rolling around her office on feet made of rollers that looked like brass sofa balls. She jammed report folders under her robot arms with the clawlike hands of a carnival toy machine, then she spun around her messy office, grabbing files and reports, adding up cost sheets and filing.

But the more paperwork she handled, the larger the piles on her desk grew. So the faster she rolled, here and there.

Hectic. Hectic. Hectic.

The desk phone suddenly morphed into an old fashioned black switchboard. The switchboard was filled with little glowing golden dots that blinked and buzzed and only stopped if she stuck one of a hundred black spiderlike plug cords into them. No matter how fast she plugged in the cords, the telephone lines kept flashing away like those warning lights at railroad crossings.

Warning overload! Warning! Warning!

Then…

Pow!

She suddenly blew up in a cloud of springs, bolts and flying nuts.

"Are you all right?"

Catherine sat upright in her desk chair, startled. She blinked. Myrtle Martin, her secretary of fifteen years, was standing in the doorway, staring at her.

"I'm fine." Catherine quickly looked down, embarrassed. She busied herself by shuffling the papers all over her desk.

Myrtle gave Catherine's desk a pointed look, then shifted her gaze to the blinking lines. "You aren't answering the phone."

"I know." Catherine spent an inordinate amount of time fiddling with an already neat stack of the papers. She felt as if she had just blown up, like her nuts and bolts were scattered from here to kingdom come.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for my nuts," Catherine muttered.

"You divorced your nuts eight years ago," Myrtle said without a beat, then closed the connecting door.

Catherine shook her head and bit back a smile. She picked up a handful of papers and tapped them on the desk until their corners were neatly aligned.

Myrtle was staring at her.

She glanced up trying to look calm and collected and in complete control, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Her secretary just stood there with her rigid back pressed against the door jamb, a knowing look on her face.

It was impossible to ignore her. Impossible because Myrtle Martin had a new hair color. Orange. Blindingly bright orange.

Catherine never knew a hair color could actually hurt your eyes. For just one instant she had the sudden urge to whip out her sunglasses.

Back in January Myrtle had dyed her hair jet black, painted a mole on her cheek and drawn on thickly-arched, Night-ofthe-Iguana eyebrows, then wore animal prints and huge faux diamonds. At the time she was dating a Welshman named Richard.

Myrtle walked toward her with one of her "you -needme -to -tell -you -exactly -what -you -need -to -do" looks. She had been gone for two weeks and the office looked as if she'd been gone for a year.

Catherine braced herself for a lecture, but instead Myrtle just hitched her hip on the desk corner, picked up the phone, and began pressing buttons. "Ms. Winslow is unavailable today."

Poof! Line one was gone.

"Ms. Winslow is in a meeting and cannot be disturbed."

Line two gone.

"Ms. Winslow will get back to you as soon as possible."

Line three gone.

Line four got the same treatment.

She punched line five. "Yes? Uh-huh. That's right. Who? Oh, hi! Yes, I'm just fine. Uh-huh. Uh-huh… I changed it last night." Myrtle smiled and patted her French twist. "Red Flam-beaux. Yes, it's very vibrant. I like color, too. Catherine? Yes, she's right here." Myrtle studied Catherine for a long moment. "She's wearing a suit…of course. Black," she added as if she were describing cockroaches.

Catherine glanced down at her tailored black suit and frowned. She liked this outfit; it fit her mood.

"What's she doing?" Myrtle repeated, then gave Catherine a wicked smile. "Your daughter is looking for her nuts."

Catherine snatched the phone out of Myrtle's hand and glared at her.

Ignoring her, Myrtle just sank into a chair opposite the desk and began rifling through the papers on Catherine's desk.

"Hi, Mom. Myrtle was just being funny. No, I don't need any almonds. Yes, I'm sure."

Catherine paused, listening to her mom because she was her mom. There were some things you never outgrew.

Finally she took a long breath and said, "I know almond oil is good for the skin." She covered the mouthpiece and made shooting noises and gestures at Myrtle while her mother listed all the reasons nuts — almonds in particular — were good for her.

Five minutes later, when her eyes were glazed over and she now knew the complete history of the almond, she said, "Yes, I heard the whole thing. Every word, Mom." She took a deep breath and spoke rapidly to sneak a few words in, "I have to go now. Have a good trip, okay? No, I don't want any smoked almonds."

She winced and rubbed a hand over her pounding forehead. "I remember they were Dad's favorite. I love you, too. I promise I won't forget to tell the girls." She paused and added more softly, "Almonds make me cry, too, Mom."

She sighed. "You don't have anything to worry about.

They give out pretzels on planes nowadays." She paused and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know why." She stared down at her desk blotter. "I know Dad hated pretzels.

"No!" She jerked upright in her chair. "Don't cancel your flight!" She looked up at Myrtle, panicking. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, then said more calmly,

"Please, Mom. You need to go. This trip will be good for you."

There was a long, drawn out pause. Catherine sat still, holding her breath while she listened to the silence on the other end. Then her mother agreed.



Continues...

Excerpted from That Summer Place by Macomber, Debbie/Wiggs, Susan/Barnett, Jean Copyright © 2005 by Macomber, Debbie/Wiggs, Susan/Barnett, Jean. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 36 )
Rating Distribution

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(18)

4 Star

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 36 Customer Reviews
  • Posted March 17, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    That Summer Place

    Loved this book! Three authors get together to write a story about one particular home on an island and each author pick up where the last story ended. Very well constructed, very heartwarming, and wills you to visit the West Coast. I couldn't put it down.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 21, 2008

    The Summer Place

    The Summer Place is a very romantic and exciting book to read. I felt like I was right there with the characters in the book at Rainshadow Lodge. If your looking for a book that is fun and romantic this is the one to read.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 22, 2013

    Tobias

    No problem

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 21, 2013

    Misery

    I cant rp any more. Sorry

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted September 6, 2012

    Very highly recommended

    This was a great book. I really enjoyed it. Couldn't put it down until I finished it.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 27, 2012

    Just not sure

    Why is it I love these authors, but just can't get past the first 50 pages? In fact, I had to put it down and start on another book. May or may not return to this. Very slow moving so far. Nothing to reach out and suck me in during these first few pages. I don't think I could recommend this to others. Usually I can't put their books down.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 28, 2011

    Dull. Predictable.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 29, 2011

    Awesome summertime reading!

    This book centers around one house and the many years tale's and how things may change and how some things stay the same over the years. Loved it! I enjoy books that are linked to a place or a character. This book does it! Happy reading!

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  • Posted December 14, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Great Read

    I enjoy all of the authors and to save money I thought I would purchase this. It is well worth the $! I loved each story. Of course I was left wanting more and more, but that is only because I loved the stories!!!

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    Posted January 18, 2010

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