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2022 Birthday Celebration - Spotlight with Julie Lessman (Freebie, Giveaway)

2/28/2022

22 Comments

She stole his heart.
He stole her peace.
Can hope steal their pain?

He sets hearts on fire. She's
been burned by love. Can hope
survive the flames of the past?

She's a prodigal. He's a pastor.
Will his steadfast love woo
her back home?

The first book is FREE
February 28th - March 4th

Freebie

Did you know that there is a character named
after me in the first two Isle Of Hope novels?

It's true! You can meet the other 'Jasmine Augustine'
in Isle Of Hope and Love Everlasting!
But first check out the Birthday fun below featuring both of us plus a giveaway!

In the tradition of the
'Three Truths and a Lie'
game we decided to see
if we could confuse you!
3 of the birthday statements below are mine and 1 belongs to 'my' character...

1. One of my best childhood birthday memories is of a birthday party with my best friends and featuring an amazing heart shaped cake that my great-grandmother made and decorated.

2. I share a birthday with a famous author and an infamous queen.

3. As a little girl, becoming a nurse was my first choice; becoming a nun was my second.

4. For one birthday I received a train ticket for a trip that took me nearly 3,000 miles over 4 days and through 8 states.

Can you guess which statements belong to me and which one belongs to the 'other me'?

Comment Below!

It's Time For A Giveaway!

Julie Lessman is generously giving away three of her indie e-books OR
an e-book of any one of Revell’s O’Connor books!
To enter comment below with your answer to our little game!
Giveaway ends March 4th

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2022 Birthday Celebration - The Perfect Kiss by Julie Lessman

2/14/2022

15 Comments

The Perfect Kiss?

by Julie Lessman

Mmm … the perfect kiss? That’s a little bit like asking about somebody’s favorite food, isn’t it? I mean, come on—some people like their chili flamin’ hot and others like it mild and sweet.

Which means that the “perfect kiss” to some might be a nose nuzzle while to somebody else--like moi—it’s a lip lock that not only curls your toes, but your tummy as well.

But for me, the real secret to a great kiss are the emotions surging around it like a romantic riptide that rolls in and out. Sure, you have to get the actions right, taking the reader through the step-by-steps of a kiss as if they’re watching a movie. But it’s those waves of emotions before and after the “kiss” that sweep the reader through a tsunami of feelings that will hopefully leave them breathless and gasping for more.

One of my favorite things to do with a kiss—which, in fact, is why the two examples you’ll find at the link below are what I consider my “perfect kisses”—is to use powerful emotions to frame a powerful kiss. For instance, my favorite love scene that I’ve ever written is from A Hope Undaunted and takes the reader through the ebb and flow of several strong emotions before and after “the kiss” (or “kisses” as in the first example below). In this example, the actual kiss portion of the scene begins with caring and concern on the hero’s part, then swells to shock, attraction, passion, more shock, anger, revenge and finally retribution and regret for both hero and heroine.

Deep breath…

Okay, I’m sorry, but for me as a CDQ (caffeinated drama queen), the more emotion the better, and I think for the reader, the more emotion, the better the kiss! Which is why the second example at the link below, also from A Hope Undaunted, is my second favorite kiss because it has all the elements I like in a love scene—tenderness, passion, humor—unleashing a groundswell of emotions from the hero’s malaise to his jealousy, attraction, longing, shock, gratitude, desire, embarrassment, and humor.

Ready to see what I’m talking about? Here’s a link to the tab on my website called “Kisses, Kisses, Kisses, that not only shows a variety of kisses from my books, but also my first and second favorite kissing scenes that I have ever written. Why are these two my favorites? Because when it comes to emotions, both are SO multi-dimensional! But, don’t take my word for it—YOU be the judge. And remember … a few drops of Tabasco doesn’t make the chili bad … only a little spicier!

Kisses, Kisses, Kisses!

More from Julie

Julie loves to hear from reader friends, so you can contact her through her website and sign up for her newsletter there as well at https://julielessman.com/ or through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. Readers can also check out her favorite romantic and spiritual scenes from each of her books on the EXCERPTS tab of her website.

Finally, here is a fun freebie to check out!

FREE DOWNLOAD of the prequel novella to Isle of Hope, which is called A Glimmer of Hope, so take advantage of this free e-book HERE!

Julie Lessman

A lover of all things Irish, Julie Lessman writes close-knit Irish family sagas that evolve into 3-D love stories: the hero, the heroine, and the God that brings them together.

Author of The Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, Heart of San Francisco, Isle of Hope, and Silver Lining Ranch series, Julie was American Christian Fiction Writers 2009 Debut Author of the Year and has garnered over 21 Romance Writers of America and other awards. Voted #1 Romance Author in Family Fiction magazine’s 2012 and 2011 Reader’s Choice Awards, Julie’s novels also made Family Fiction magazine’s Best of 2015, Best of 2014, and “Essential Christian Romance Authors” 2017-2020, as well as Booklist’s 2010 Top 10 Inspirational Fiction and Borders Best Fiction.

Julie has also written a self-help workbook for writers entitled Romance-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Sweet and Inspirational Markets.

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9th Blogoversary Celebration - Excerpt from The Secret Of Emerald Cottage by Julie Lessman (Giveaway)

12/7/2021

17 Comments

She’s sweet & cozy mysteries. He’s fun & cozy flings.
Till a deadly secret reveals not-so-cozy things.

Twenty-six-year-old Molly Stewart—ex-Navy nurse and former evidence technician for the Charleston Police Department—has been burned by love. So when her friend, Pastor Chase Griffin, begs her to move to scenic Lake Loon to be a nurse and companion for Miss Lilly, his elderly landlady, she jumps at the chance. The secluded and cozy cottage on a clear mountain lake seems the perfect place to heal from her fiancé’s betrayal as well as indulge in one of her greatest passions—cozy romance. First with reading them by the bookcase and then hopefully, if dreams come true, solving them one day as a licensed detective. But when Miss Lilly’s estranged great nephew shows up, it’s no mystery as to why he and Molly butt heads. Because it only takes one stolen kiss—while she’s sleeping, no less—to discover he’s an even bigger player than the ex-fiancé who broke her heart.

When international playboy and Irish soccer star Brec McGill learns his long-lost great aunt is in a coma from a drowning accident, he rushes to her side. Not only is he anxious to reconnect with his only living relative he spent summers with as a boy, but her cottage on Lake Loon, Georgia is the perfect respite to heal from game injuries and escape a tabloid scandal. At thirty-three he’s disillusioned with the game, his fiancée, and life in general, craving nothing but a little peace and solitude to get his head on straight. But when he discovers his aunt’s cottage is not only inhabited by a crusty Aunt Lilly he hasn’t seen in ten years, but a pretty prude of a nurse as well, his plans take a nose-dive in the lake. Because suddenly it appears not only was Aunt Lilly’s accident no accident … but somebody out there wants to see them all dead.

ASIN: ‎ B09B6GB9WK

WHOO-HOO, HAPPY 9th BLOGOVERSARY to my good friend, Jasmine Augustine! To celebrate, I am giving away an e-copy of my new 50/50 romantic suspense (50% mystery/50% romance versus the usual 80/20), The Secret of Emerald Cottage.
To whet your appetite, be sure to watch this very cool trailer/video my artist hubby did, followed by a sneak peek at the first chapter below. And, just an FYI—I’m having lots of realllly cool giveaways going at my Journal Jot blog, too, so I hope you check them out.
Ready? Here we go!

EXCERPT FOR THE SECRET OF EMERALD COTTAGE

It is He who reveals the profound and
hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness,
and the light dwells with Him.
--Daniel 2:2

CHAPTER ONE
Savannah, Georgia, Late Spring

“I was a fool, Molly. Forgive me? Please?”
Forgive him? Body numb, Molly Stewart stood rooted at Miss Lilly’s front door, staring at the man who had broken both her heart and her trust, and wondered if she actually could.
Today was to have been their wedding day at a pretty little church in Charleston. Instead here Tyler stood on the wraparound front porch of Miss Lilly’s secluded cottage on Lake Loon, more handsome than a louse had a right to be. Those piercing gray eyes were as repentant—and deadly—as she’d ever seen. Hands plunged deep in the pockets of his favorite Rock Revival jeans, he offered an awkward shrug, his rolled-sleeved, buttoned-down shirt emphasizing broad shoulders and a well-defined torso. “These last six months without you have been awful, babe, convincing me I made the biggest and most brainless mistake of my life.”
Yeah, me too. Cocking her hip, Molly slapped her arms into an impatient fold, not about to let Tyler Madsen disarm her again. “Well, I certainly concur with brainless.” Her eyes narrowed to slits, as thin as her patience. “What do you want, Tyler?”
That hard-sculpted jaw tensed as he threaded a hand through wheat-colored hair shorn on the sides. His Adam’s apple ducked twice, a sure sign she’d rattled his confidence, which wasn’t easy to do. “I rather hoped it would be obvious,” he whispered, catching her off-guard when he reached to caress her face with tender fingers. “I want ‘us’ back.”
She jerked away, arms glued to her waist in self-defense as she took a step back, warning bells going off in her head over the warm shiver he’d produced. She’d been head over heels for a solid year, ready to spend the rest of her life with him, so naturally his touch still affected her. Her mouth compressed in resolve. But she was also ready to spend the rest of her life forgetting him, too, and had a six-month head start, thank God. “There is no ‘us,’ Tyler. I wonder if there ever was.”
“There was and you know it, Molly,” he said quietly, gently tugging one of her hands free to draw her close. “Because despite my asinine mistake, we still love each other.”
“Loved!” she hissed, breaking free to thump him hard on a chest that felt like rock. “Past tense, buster, so you can just take your seductive song and dance and—”
Her gasp was silenced when his mouth took hers, melting her to the door with a kiss that reminded her of all she had lost.
A friend.
A husband.
A love for a lifetime.
“Forgive me, Molly—please?” He gently touched his forehead to hers. “Give me another chance, and I swear I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
“Ty …” She felt herself weakening, memories of their last year resurrecting the faintest glimmers of love and hope that she’d worked so hard to bury beneath a mountain of hurt. “I don’t think—”
Her resistance was swallowed up in another dangerous kiss so possessive, all her walls came tumbling down when he pulled away. Suddenly, his handsome face dissolved into a haze, disappearing into the same nightmare she’d lived for the last half year. A groan trailed from her lips as her head thrashed back and forth in her bed. “No, don’t leave again, please,” she murmured in her sleep, “just kiss me, please …”
Her body finally relaxed when he did—gently, softly—vaguely aware it had to be a dream because the scent was all wrong—not the vanilla musk scent of Ty’s Stronger With You cologne she’d given him for Christmas. No, this was more of a peppery scent with a hint of lilac and lavender, confirming it wasn’t Ty she was kissing at all, but someone else.
Lost somewhere between semi-consciousness and a slumber induced by a bleary-headed cold and a 2:00 a.m. dose of Nyquil Severe Cold & Flu, she burrowed deeper into the downy softness of her bed, never wanting the kiss to end. Definitely had to be a dream because Ty was her past, and yet this tender brush of lips against hers felt so real! So right.
Breathing in the heady scent of pine trees that surrounded both Miss Lilly’s Emerald Cottage and the glimmering glacial lake outside her open window, she allowed her subconscious to fade back into sleep, desperate to return to Prince Charming.
“Wake up, Princess.” A husky voice with a hint of a brogue breathed into her ear, accompanied by a trace of that delicious peppery scent, and she literally groaned out loud, unwilling for the magic to end. Rolling on her side, she yanked the cover sheet over her head, longing to slip away once again …
“Uh, excuse me, Goldilocks, but I think you’re sleeping in my bed.”
Her eyes snapped open beneath the sheet while she gasped, frozen for a split second before she jerked her Glock 36 from under her pillow. Launching from her bed, her limbs shook like Jell-O as she stood there in her ratty tank top and penguin shorts, arms extended. “Who are y-you?” she rasped, heart pummeling her ribcage while she trembled, taking shaky aim at a man in a sculpted T-shirt and jeans who made Prince Charming look like a frog.
Light blue eyes flared in surprise as he raised massive palms in the air, a lazy smile easing across lips way too full and sensuous for a man. “Whoa, take it easy, lass. I’m Miss Lilly’s great nephew, Brec McGill, but you can call me Papa Bear if you like.”
“How did you get in?” she demanded, snatching her cell phone from the nightstand before backing toward the door, punching 9-1-1 in just to be ready. Hands quivering, she tucked the phone into her shorts, rattled that a Greek god had entered her room and she’d never even heard him come in.
With an impressive bulge of a bicep, he casually scratched the back of his head, his smile patient as he tossed a set of keys in the air. He slipped them into the pocket of jeans so snug, they bordered on indecent. “A key. From Aunt Lilly. A long time ago.”
“Wait a minute.” She swallowed hard as she wiped her lips, gaze narrowing when the memory of her dream came back. “Did you … kiss me?”
“Depends.” One edge of his mouth crooked as he tipped his head, flashing the deepest, most dangerous dimples she’d ever seen. “Did you like it?”
Stance stiff, she jerked the gun higher, satisfied when it wiped the smile right off his face.
Taking a quick step back, he thumped a taut chest with a blunt thumb while he stared her down. “Look, Goldilocks, this is my room, and you were sleeping in my bed, so suppose you tell me who you are, aye?”
Her chin jutted up. “I am Miss Lilly’s temporary caretaker and companion, Nurse Molly Stewart. The one who left umpteen voicemail messages and a telegram that you never bothered to answer, I might add.”
He actually winced, which gave some small comfort that there may be a shred of concern somewhere deep down in this great nephew who hadn’t visited his aunt in years.
He cuffed the back of his neck. “About that,” he said with a sheepish look, “I’ve had a bit of bother lately with the press, so I’ve been off the grid, so to speak.” He gave an awkward shrug. “New cell phone, new apartment, dodged voicemail, you know?”
Expelling a silent sigh, Molly slowly lowered her gun. Yes, she knew. Miss Lilly had already filled her in on her notorious great nephew, the infamous Irish soccer star embroiled in a nasty scandal. The same nephew Miss Lilly’d been praying for since he went astray after college—both from her and from the faith she’d tried so hard to instill.
“But I finally got the telegram,” he continued in a rush, a definite apology lacing his tone as he buried his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. Those broad shoulders lifted briefly. “So, here I am.” His thick, dark brows tented in concern as he pinned Molly with a pointed gaze that held a touch of vulnerability. “How is she?” he whispered.
“Better.” Rolling her neck, Molly felt the tension slowly seep from her body. “She’s out of the coma and resting comfortably—”
“Coma?” His voice cracked as his golden tan bleached to pale. “She was in a coma? The telegram just said she’d fallen and was in the hospital, for criminy’s sake.”
Molly arched a brow, her manner cool. “She did fall, Mr. McGill—into the lake, as a matter of fact. Which resulted in a coma when she almost drowned. But she came out of it before I sent the telegram—which was a last resort, mind you, after all the phone calls.”
A groan rattled from his throat as he tunneled thick fingers through short curly hair—almost black—appearing as if he actually cared or at least putting on a pretty good act. He glanced at his watch. “Where is she? I want to see her right now. And I want to know everything.”
“All in good time, Striker Boy,” Molly said as she waved the gun toward the door, adding her own twist to his team nickname of “Striker Man” since he was his team’s primary scoring threat. “It’s barely six a.m. and we’re not going anywhere till I’ve had a shower and a cup of coffee, so don’t be in such a hurry.”
She suddenly remembered the brazen pass he’d made by kissing her while she was sleeping, and both her ire—and her gun—rose to new heights. “Oh, wait—you weren’t in a hurry, were you? Since you just arrived a week after the fact.”
Those blue eyes thinned to slits of sapphire. “It’s ‘Striker Man,’ for your information, Goldilocks,” he said in a gravelly voice as tight as hers, “and I detest guns, so stop waving that thing at me. I took the redeye as soon as I got the blinkin’ telegram, so don’t act like I don’t care about my aunt.”
Eyes wide, Molly feigned surprise as she placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, forgive me, please, but I didn’t realize seeing your aunt once every ten years qualified as ‘caring.’”
Too late she saw the flicker of pain in his eyes, pools of regret and guilt that shamed her before he quickly looked away, shoulders slumping while he gouged the bridge of his nose. “It was twice,” he said quietly, the weariness of his manner reminding her he’d just flown twelve hours on a cramped plane in the middle of the night. “But I’m here now, Miss Stewart, and I would very much like to see my aunt.”
Oh, way to welcome the prodigal home, Molly, she thought with a pinch in her chest, heat warming the back of her neck over kicking a man when he was down. She was the Christian here, after all, and he was not, a point that caused Miss Lilly great pain whenever they’d discussed her wayward great nephew.
The same wayward nephew who’d just kissed me while I was asleep, for pity’s sake!
For pity’s sake, indeed. And Brec McGill’s, apparently. Because if Molly knew one thing for sure about Miss Lilly, it was that no matter how infrequently she saw her nephew, she longed to see him healthy and whole, both spiritually and emotionally.
“Deep down he’s a good boy,” she’d often say with that faraway look that told Molly he was her number-one priority before she went home to her Savior—that the nephew she loved would return to his, restoring the faith she’d worked so hard to instill. And that sure wouldn’t happen if Molly didn’t reflect the love of the merciful God she also espoused, forgiving this lost soul for abandoning the aunt who loved him all of these years.
Unleashing a heavy sigh of regret that mirrored that in his eyes, Molly placed her gun on the nightstand and gave a side nod toward the door. “Visiting hours are at ten, so you can either catch a few winks in the guest room before we leave, or you can wait for me in the kitchen. Where,” she said with a quirk of her brow, “I will happily whip up breakfast—something fast, hearty, and nutritious—plus coffee while I fill you in on the state of Miss Lilly and her affairs.”
A sense of peace settled over his features like a truce, making him appear all the more fatigued. Offering a tired smile, he nodded to the novel splayed open on her bed, her favorite Agatha Christie cozy mystery that she’d been reading before nodding off. He tilted his head to read the title. “Sparkling Cyanide?” he said with a scrunch of his nose.
“Research,” she said with a slight heft of her chin, “for a book I plan to write.”
He gave a slow nod with a twitch of a smile. “And hopefully nothing to do with breakfast, I trust?”
Head tipped, she crossed her arms with a shadow of a smile. “The jury’s still out, Soccer Boy.”
He gave a slow nod, mouth sliding into a smile that instantly slid into a yawn. “No wonder you were out cold, then. Cozy mysteries are better than a sleeping pill in my opinion—too sweet for my tastes. I like a lot more action, so I’m a Steven King fan myself.”
She angled a brow. “Makes perfect sense. And your favorite is Misery, is it?”
He paused on his way to the door to shoot a wry smile over his shoulder. “Hilarious, Goldie.” Hand on the knob, he turned, his weariness belied by a twitch of a smile that reminded her all over again just how handsome he was. And dangerous to a woman’s emotional health per the tabloids she’d read.
“Breakfast would be absolutely grand, lass,” he said in a husky tone that held more than a hint of tease. “And if you’re willing to forgive me for both my abominable lack of attention to Aunt Lilly and stealing a kiss?”—he had the audacity to give her a wink—“I’ll forgive you for stealing my room.”
“Forgiven,” she said with a pert lift of her chin, matching his shadow of a smile with one of her own. “The lack of attention to Miss Lilly, that is, Strike-Out Boy. But the sheer annoyance from the other?” She wrinkled her nose as she crossed her arms in a taut fold, dismissing him with a nod of her head to close the door. “Something tells me I’ll need that for self-defense."

Julie Lessman

Julie has also written a self-help workbook for writers entitled Romance-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Sweet and Inspirational Markets. Contact Julie through her website at www.julielessman.com.

It's Time For A Giveaway!

Julie is generously giving away an e-book copy of The Secret Of Emerald Cottage.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

17 Comments

2018 Birthday Celebration - Guest Post from author Julie Lessman + Excerpt & Giveaway

2/14/2018

48 Comments

Guest Post from author
Julie Lessman

“The Perfect Kiss”

The perfect kiss? Mmm … that’s a little bit like asking about somebody’s favorite food, isn’t it? I mean, come on—some people like their chili flamin’ hot and others like it mild and sweet.

Which means that the “perfect kiss” to some might be a nose nuzzle while to somebody else—like moi—it’s a liplock that not only curls your toes, but your tummy as well.

You know, like Rhett laying one on Scarlett before he swoops her up the stairs in Gone With the Wind? Or George Peppard in a liplock with Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, in the rain no less, with a cat between them? Or how ’bout that kiss in The Notebook when Ryan Gosling kisses Rachel McAdams in the rainstorm, then carries her inside and pushes her to the wall?

Whew! Trust me, as a “wall-pusher” from way back, the perfect kiss to me is when a hero makes no bones about staking his claim, disarming the heroine with a powerful and possessive attraction that pushes her back to the wall—literally!

But for me, the real secret to a great kiss are the emotions surging around it like a romantic riptide that rolls in and out. Sure, you have to get the actions right, taking the reader through the step-by-steps of a kiss as if they’re watching a movie. But it’s those waves of emotions before and after the “kiss” that sweep the reader through a tsunami of feelings that will hopefully leave them breathless and gasping for more.

One of my favorite things to do with a kiss—which, in fact, is why the two examples below are what I consider my “perfect kisses”—is to use powerful emotions to frame a powerful kiss. For instance, my favorite love scene that I’ve ever written is from
A Hope Undaunted and takes the reader through the ebb and flow of several strong emotions before and after “the kiss” (or “kisses” as in the first example below). In this example, the actual kiss portion of the scene begins with caring and concern on the hero’s part, then swells to shock, attraction, passion, more shock, anger, revenge and finally retribution and regret for both hero and heroine.

Deep breath . . .

Okay, I’m sorry, but for me as a CDQ (caffeinated drama queen), the more emotion the better, and I think for the reader, the more emotion, the better the kiss! Which is why the second example below, also from A Hope Undaunted, is my second favorite kiss because it has all the elements I like in a love scene—tenderness, passion, humor—unleashing a groundswell of emotions from the hero’s malaise to his jealousy, attraction, longing, shock, gratitude, desire, embarrassment and humor.

In my writer’s workbook, Romance-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Inspirational and Sweet Markets, I quote the lyrics from Herman Hupfeld’s fabulous song, As Time Goes By, which claims that

For the purpose of today’s blog, I am respectfully disagreeing with Mr. Hupfeld because one of the little tricks I’ve learned is that “a kiss is NOT just a kiss”—it’s a series of roller-coaster emotions that carry the reader to the Shores of Sigh on a tidal wave of feelings.

Ready to see what I’m talking about? Here are my first and second favorite kissing scenes that I’ve ever written. Why? Because when it comes to emotions, both are SO multi-dimensional! But, don’t take my word for it—YOU be the judge.

Julie's Favorite Kissing Scenes

!!! GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED !!!

Tell me in the comment section below
"which of the two kissing scenes YOU prefer and why",
and I’ll enter you for a chance to win a copy of any of
my e-books, including the e-version of Romance-ology 101.

Giveaway runs February 14th - February 21st, 2018

And remember … a few drops of Tabasco doesn’t make the chili bad … only a little spicier!

As an extra bonus, I’d like to give you a brief kissing excerpt from my latest novel, For Love of Liberty, which is a light and humorous Western story that kicks off my new Silver Lining Ranch series. Think Bonanza meets McClintock.
I like this clip because it reminds me of a Mary Connealy love scene, where the no-nonsense hero grabs the heroine to shut her up with a kiss. But first, here’s the jacket blurb:

A Match Made in Heaven?
Or Someplace a Whole Lot Warmer?

She’s stubborn, educated, and looking
to give women the vote.
He’s bullheaded, successful, and looking
to give her a piece of his mind.
But when things heat up, they just may give
each other a piece of their hearts.

“Okay, Liberty Bell, I’m going to ask you one more time, real nice and civil-like …” He peered up beneath hooded eyes, a near smile on his face. “Will you please move out of my way?”
“Nope.” She smiled and shook her head, as if quite confident he was on the thaw. She clutched her hands behind her back like a little girl about to misbehave, green eyes issuing a dare. “And you can’t make me.”
He sighed. Poor, misguided little rich girl. “Yeah?” He pushed the brim of his hat up. “Watch me.” Hurling his satchel to the floor, he heard the catch of her breath when he struck like lightning with an arm to her waist, jerking her close to kiss the daylights out of her while her boots dangled in the air.
Unfortunately, the moment he tasted those soft lips parted in surprise, he was struck by a little lightning of her own, electrifying every nerve in his body while his blood simmered to a dangerous boil. When a soft telltale mew escaped her throat, he was helpless to contain the low moan that rose from deep in his belly. Butting her to the door, he cradled her face in his hands, longing surging through his bloodstream as he claimed the sweetest lips he’d ever known—and he’d known plenty—completely disarmed by the scent of her skin, the soft flesh of her ear. Sure, he’d dreamed of kissing Liberty O’Shea for as long as could remember, but he never expected this—a kiss that could surely tame his taste for all other woman.
The very thought bucked like a thorn-saddled bull, and with a rush of ice water through his veins, he dropped her to the floor like he’d been bit by a rattler. She teetered precariously—along with his heart—eyes glazed and mouth still open in shock. Mustering all the calm he owned—which was a mite low at the moment—he yanked his hat down low and reached for the knob. She bolted away so fast, Finn had to stifle a chuckle, tossing her a wink as he opened the door. “Told you.”

Jasmine—thank you SO much for hosting me on your blog—it’s been fun! I love to hear from readers, so they can find and contact me at www.julielessman.com, or through Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, or Pinterest or by signing up for my newsletter or my Journal Jots blog. Oh, and readers can also check out my favorite romantic and spiritual scenes from each of my books on the “Excerpts” tab of my website.

Finally, I have the following FREEBIE currently going on:

FREE DOWNLOAD ON THE NOVELLA PREQUEL TO ISLE OF HOPE!
YES, there IS a prequel to my award-winning novel, Isle of Hope,
and it’s called A Glimmer of Hope, so take advantage of this free e-book

HERE

HUGS!

Julie Lessman

Nicknamed “The Kissing Queen” of the CBA, Julie began her love affair with romance at the age of twelve after reading Gone With the Wind. Today she writes Irish family sagas that evolve into 3-D love stories: the hero, the heroine, and the God that brings them together.
Author of The Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, Heart of San Francisco, and Isle of Hope series, Julie was named American Christian Fiction Writers 2009 Debut Author of the Year and has garnered 18 Romance Writers of America and other awards. She was voted #1 Romance Author of the year in Family Fiction magazine’s 2012 and 2011 Readers Choice Awards and named on Booklist’s 2010 Top 10 Inspirational Fiction as well as Borders Best Fiction list. Julie has also written a self-help workbook for writers entitled Romance-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Sweet and Inspirational Markets.

48 Comments

Isle Of Hope by Julie Lessman Chapter Excerpt + Birthday Giveaway

2/5/2016

85 Comments

She stole his heart.
He stole her peace.
Can hope steal their pain?

At the age of eighteen, Lacey Carmichael was a wild girl bent on fun, promised to Jack Carmichael, a straight-and-narrow pastor’s kid bent on the seminary. When her father kicks her out of the house, she runs away from Isle of Hope, turning her back on everything she loves. Now, eight years later, she’s back as a woman of faith, hoping to make amends to the father she defied, the boyfriend she deserted, and the best friend she denied. Only the bridges she’s burned are still smoldering, kindled by an adulterous affair by Jack’s pastor father that damaged his son’s faith. But can a turning of tables—and hearts—lead the way back to “hope” for them all?

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Chapter Excerpt from
Isle Of Hope

Many are the woes of the wicked,
but the Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the one who trusts in Him.
--Psalm 32:10

Chapter One
Isle of Hope, Georgia, Early Summer

When it comes to burning bridges, I am the Queen of Kerosene.
Puffing out a wispy sigh, Lacey Carmichael squinted into the rearview mirror to make sure the coast was clear, then dragged her bulging purse onto the seat with an unladylike grunt. The action caused her dusty blue Honda to swerve on Skidaway Road—along with her stomach.
Oh, crud! She straightened the wheel with a jerk, body rattling more than her 2008 Honda after a cross-country trip. Her gaze flicked to the mirror, and relief coursed like high tide. The road behind revealed nothing but palms and Georgia pines, silent sentinels ushering her home.
Home. Where full moons rose over the marsh and the scent of wisteria embraced summer nights. Where the lazy lull of river grasses swayed in the breeze, soothing a sleepy coastal community that burrowed into one’s memory like a long-lost friend. A haven where tidy cottages nestled next to lush antebellum homes, evoking a postcard setting that harkened back to a simpler time.
A simpler time?
Lacey sucked in a deep draw of the rich and humid low-country air that was pungent with the salty smell of the marsh, and instantly zipped back eight years to a time that had been anything but simple. Memories of an eighteen-year-old wild child constricted her throat. A rebel daughter who’d bolted from the hometown that had been anything but a home. Her shoulders slumped as she passed the Piggly Wiggly.
What am I doing here?
She cut loose another gust of ragged air while her eyes focused straight ahead. Returning to the scene of the crime. The charred debris of all the mistakes that I’ve made. One hand welded to the steering wheel, she rifled through her studded leather purse with the other, fingers fumbling on a tube of lip-gloss. With amazing dexterity, she untwirled the screw-on cap and applied “Ooh La La,” then puckered her lips. Now if she could only gloss over her past as easily ...
The BP loomed ahead and she slapped on her blinker, veering in to park at the closest empty pump. Her car squealed to a stop at the exact moment the contents of her purse careened to the floor. Lacey, you lead foot—when are you going to learn? Mumbling under her breath, she turned the car off and leaned to pick up the spilled items. A woman’s high-pitched laughter suddenly riddled the air, desecrating the sacred strains of Justin Timberlake from a radio nearby.
“Jack, you bad boy,” a woman’s sultry voice said, drifting from the other side of the pump, “what am I going to do with you?”
“Well, I know a few things that come to mind.”
Lacey shot up. Her head slammed against the glove compartment. She blinked through a haze of stars at the car on the other side of the pump, too dazed to feel the pain.
That voice. The same voice that had once uttered a proposal of marriage and swore to love her forever. Goose bumps popped as her breathing shallowed. A second onslaught of female laughter grated in her ears, and when she inched up to peer out the window of her Honda, her stomach immediately took a dive.
Whenever she allowed herself to think of Jack O’Bryen—which wasn’t often—she convinced herself that memories made people and things far better than they’d actually been.
Yeah, right. Hands propped to the driver’s door of a brand-new cherry-red BMW Z4, Jack O’Bryen appeared every bit the hottie he’d been when they’d first started dating over ten years ago. Only now he was taller, his previously lanky frame more filled out, and his physique tighter. Once shaggy chestnut hair, a byproduct of college days, was now trimmed neat and clean at the nape of his neck. He casually scratched the back of his head with a bulge of a bicep that made her mouth go dry, then slacked a narrow hip to the door. “The nozzle leaked, so I’m going in to wash my hands—need anything?” he asked the blonde.
Lacey moaned inwardly. Yeah. Distance—lots and lots of distance. She’d expected to run into Jack eventually, but now? Her first two minutes in town? She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Really? Heaven knows she wasn’t ready. Not even after eight years. She caught a glimpse of his tight, faded jeans and swallowed hard.
God help me, will I ever be?
The blonde shook her head, letting fly with another nauseating giggle that was sheer blasphemy against the strains of Never Again, a song that fit perfectly with the theme of Lacey’s homecoming.
Never again would she turn her back on the people she loved.
Never again would she seek her will over God’s.
Never again would she give her all to Jack O’Bryen.
The man in question disappeared into the station, and Lacey dove for her keys. She cranked the ignition and groaned. The gas needle lay prostrate; so far beyond “E” it was on “F” for fumes. She shot a glance at the Barbie Doll applying hot-pink shimmer to Angelina Jolie lips and then at the station where Jack was nowhere to be seen, and decided to chance it. If memory served, the ladies’ room was on the opposite side of the building from the men’s—the perfect place to hide.
She could do this.
Jerking the handle, she flung the door wide and slammed it too hard, obviously distracting the blonde from her makeover as she looked up. Lacey offered a nervous smile and made a beeline for the station door, purse clutched to her chest while her gaze darted across the store. Ignoring the curious looks of bystanders, she sprinted to the ladies’ room, rib cage heaving as she gripped the knob and turned. Thank you, Lord, home free!
“Lacey? Lacey Carmichael?”
Her eyelids sank closed as her stomach contracted, hand now grafted to the door. Warding off a wave of dizziness, she willed herself to turn around, but her smile felt as cardboard as the Timberwolf Chewing Tobacco display over Jack’s shoulder.
“Hello, Jack.” Her voice was little more than a squeak as she peered up at “Bridge #1,” the man whose heart she’d stomped on eight years prior without ever looking back.
He stared in apparent shock, mouth gaping and blue eyes just as wide, a perfect match for a well-muscled pale-blue polo. For a brief moment, his jaw seemed unhinged before he snapped it closed with a nervous bob of his throat. His mouth tamped into a tight smile. “What are you doing here? I mean, I knew you were coming back for the wedding, but that’s over two months away.”
Ah, yes, her cousin’s wedding. Her excuse, God’s mandate.
She cleared her throat so she could breathe and attempted a casual stance, cautiously butting against the restroom door. Her purse remained affixed to her bright pink halter top she was pretty sure matched her cheeks. “Well, you know my cousin, Nicki—a little scattered when it comes to details, and with Uncle Cam on naval commission in the Mediterranean, she asked me to come early to help out. And I’m off for the summer, so …” She gulped and forced a megawatt smile. “Here I am!”
He blinked. “Sorry about your mom,” he said stiffly, “I heard she passed away a few years back.”
Her gaze dropped to the grimy linoleum while she fought the sharp sting of tears that always threatened when she thought of her mother. It had been over six years since depression had stolen her life, but even now, mere mention of her still slashed anew. “Thanks, Jack,” she whispered, praying he didn’t know her mother committed suicide. They’d kept it quiet, and heaven knows her father would have never let the awful secret out, but small towns had big ears. “It was a difficult time for all of us.”
He gave a sympathetic nod before his smile seemed to set like concrete along with his hard-angled jaw, which sported a shadow of dark bristle. “I hear you’re a teacher.” His words were clipped, matter-of-fact … cool. “In San Diego.”
Her cheeks warmed, no doubt bypassing “pretty pink” altogether to go straight to “mortified magenta.” “Yes, I was … I m-mean I am a t-teacher,” she stuttered, “but not in San Diego anymore.” She fortified for her next statement with a deep draw of air, gripping her purse so tightly she was certain she’d have studs embedded in her chest. “I … took a job in Savannah … for the fall.”
Silence. A nerve quivered in his cheek as his gaze skimmed from the top of her disheveled blonde ponytail to her lacy pink halter and jean short-shorts that suddenly felt way too tight. Without missing a beat, he raked down tan legs to her baby-pink polished toenails, looping her stomach when he scanned back up to settle on her face, the blue eyes thinning considerably. His smile was as flat as his tone. “Really. Alone? Or with your significant other?”
She detected the barest grinding of his teeth, a habit that swooped her back years to countless arguments in his car when she’d tease and tempt, the school flirt dating the pastor’s son. His piercing stare unnerved her, unleashing a barrage of babble that always bubbled from her lips whenever she was nervous. “No, alone.” She sucked in a deep breath and forged on, anxious to slip past the subject of her wedding debacle. “So I decided to come back here to live … well, not here here … on Isle of Hope, that is … uh … I mean I will this summer, of course, because I’ll be staying with Nicki.” She swept her bangs out of her eyes with a shaky hand before her fingers slid down to fiddle with renegade strands of hair trailing her bare shoulders. “But come fall, I hope to have an apartment in Savannah or maybe even Wilmington Island because I have a friend who moved there from San Diego, family you know, and she lov—”
“Does your dad know you’re home?”
She froze mid-sentence, mouth open and body stiff like when she used to play swinging statues with Jack’s sisters on their front lawn, rigid and scared to make a move.
Like now, at mere mention of “Bridge #2.”
He shifted, cocking a hip. “He doesn’t, does he?”
Lacey felt another blush rise and tossed her ponytail in the air. “Not yet, but to be honest, Daddy’s one of the reasons I’m here.” She continued coiling the loose strands of hair around her finger, her tone softening as her eyes begged forgiveness. “I hope to make amends,” she said quietly, the barest hint of a plea in her words, “to those I hurt in the past.”
His lip curled. “Well that should keep you busy.” He folded his arms, the motion straining thick muscles against the knit cotton of his sleeves. “Just with my family alone.”
“Jack, please …” Her whisper was almost an ache, the memory of Jack’s twin sisters—Bridges #3 and 4—twisting her gut. Best friends who’d once been like blood. A quiver of air seeped through her lips, depleting her to the point of exhaustion.
His gaze flicked to her left hand and back. “Not married yet? Or is San Diego littered with broken hearts too?”
Heat blasted her cheeks, and she knew full well she owed him any scorn he chose to lob her way. “Actually, only one—mine.” She hiked her chin, ready to take any punishment he sought to mete out. “You’ll be happy to know I was soundly dumped by my fiancé, two months prior to the wedding, and good news! It was a double whammy—broken heart, broken bank account.”
For the briefest moment, sympathy flickered in those blue eyes as the tight lines eased around his mouth, but Lacey wasn’t here for sympathy—she was here to heal and be healed. “So,” she said in a rush, anxious to move past the awkwardness of this first encounter. “Nicki tells me you’re a big-shot doctor now, working with kids at Memorial.” The tension in her face softened along with her eyes. “A pediatrician—very impressive. You always were a sucker for kids.”
She spied the barest relaxation of his facial muscles, hinting at a possible smile he probably wouldn’t let through. “Yeah, I started in a peds practice at Memorial last week.” He threaded a hand through short dark hair streaked with summer sun. “After thirteen years devoted to higher education, it feels good to finally devote myself to kids.” One of his dimples winked as he slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, nodding toward the cherry-red Z out the window. “Along with having a little fun for a change, like indulging in a new toy.”
Lacey managed a grin. “Very nice, Dr. O’Bryen—fulfillment of a long-held dream, I believe, given all the times you lusted after Todd Raber’s cherry Z. Residency must pay well.”
He cuffed the back of his neck, a tinge of pink creeping into his summer tan. “Not really. But Mom insisted I live at home till I started in a practice, so other than the token rent I forced her to take and school loans, my residency paychecks mostly went into savings.” He gave a small shrug. “So I decided to spend some.”
“Well, it’s about time, Jack O’Bryen—you’ve always been way too serious and focused.” She glanced out the window where the blonde was buffing her nails while shooting laser looks their way. “And speaking of ‘serious,’ I think your significant other may be getting tired of waiting.”
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned, the sound of his husky chuckle bringing back a rush of memories. “Yeah, Jasmine’s not the patient type, that’s for sure.” He turned back, a gleam of trouble in his eyes so foreign to the studious boy she used to know. “Everybody keeps telling me I’m the perfect age and place to settle down, but I’m not buying it.” He flashed perfectly white teeth, his manner suddenly bold and edged with a wild streak that hadn’t been there before. “Having way too much fun.”
She fidgeted with the studs on the front of her purse, uneasy with this new Jack, a man-about-town who seemed light years away from the sweet, intense seminary student with whom she’d fallen in love. Brushing the hair from her eyes, her hand was as shaky as her smile. “Well, it’s been great seeing you, Jack. I’m sure our paths’ll cross again since we’re both in the wedding.” With an awkward wave, she turned to manhandle the knob, struggling to open a door that refused to budge.
He reached around and turned it for her, giving it a light shove. It wheeled open as slick as the oil in the pumps. “I’m sure you will,” he said quietly, the warmth of his breath against her neck causing her skin to tingle. “If you’re home to build bridges, I assume that includes Mom and the twins?”
She peeked over her shoulder. “It does,” she whispered, feeling as awkward as if this were the end of a first date. She paused. “How is your mom, by the way—and your sisters?” She rested her hand on the knob to keep her fingers from trembling. “I keep tabs on them through Nick, of course, but I know she hasn’t been in touch with your sisters since …” Her words trailed off, not wanting to put voice to the awful tragedy that had befallen them all.
He cleared his throat, hands back in his pockets. “She’s good. Praying up a storm, as always. Still hounding me to go to church, which I do for her, but I’m not into that stuff anymore.”
Lacey blinked. Oh, Jack, no … “B-but that used to be your thing,” she whispered.
He studied her through a shuttered gaze. “It used to be my dad’s thing, too, remember?”
“Excuse me, please.” They both jolted at the presence of an elderly woman who took them by surprise.
“Oh, pardon me,” Lacey said as she held the door open for the lady to enter.
“Thank you, young lady.” The woman toddled past, and Lacey exhaled slowly when the door closed behind her, her gaze flitting back to Jack. “Well, unless I plan on taking a summer job as BP doorman, I think I better scoot. Take care, Jack, and please tell your mom and sisters I’ll be in touch.”
The blue eyes all but burned into hers as he nodded, a shadow of a smile grazing his lips. “Will do.” Turning, he made his way to the door where the blonde with the perfect nails waited with a pout.
Lacey entered the restroom, numb while the door thudded hard behind her. Eyelids sinking closed, she sagged against the worn and peeling wood while she sucked in a sharp breath, fingers kneading the seeds of a headache in her temple.
“Dearie, are you all right? You look as if you’re about to be sick.”
Lacey’s eyes popped open. She managed a smile at the sweet, gray-haired lady who was blow-drying her hands. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said, ducking into the nearest stall. She slid the bolt closed and collapsed against the door, palms flat to the dirty beige steel while her eyes stared straight ahead. She swallowed hard.
Or will be in about two months.

Did you catch the very special character? ;)

Julie Lessman

Website

Julie Lessman’s tagline is “Passion With a Purpose,” which underscores her intense passion for both God and romance. A lover of all things Irish, she enjoys writing close-knit Irish family sagas that evolve into 3-D love stories: the hero, the heroine, and the God that brings them together.
Award-winning author of The Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, and Heart of San Francisco series, Julie was named American Christian Fiction Writers 2009 Debut Author of the Year and voted #1 Romance Author of the year in Family Fiction magazine’s 2012 and 2011 Readers Choice Awards. She has garnered 17 RWA and other awards and made Booklist’s 2010 Top 10 Inspirational Fiction. One of her latest novels, Surprised by Love, appeared on Family Fiction magazine’s list of Top Ten Novels of 2014. Her indie book A Light in the Window is an International Digital Awards winner, a 2013 Readers' Crown Award winner, and a 2013 Book Buyers Best Award winner. You can contact Julie on Facebook, Twitter, or www.julielessman.com, where you can read excerpts of her favorite romantic and spiritual scenes from each of her books.

It's Time For A Giveaway!

Julie Lessman
is graciously giving away
your choice of an E-Book copy of
Isle Of Hope
OR
its upcoming prequel A Glimmer Of Hope
AND
A Character Named After YOU in Julie's next book!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Giveaway runs from 12 am MST (Mountain Standard Time) February 5th, 2016 through 12 am MST February 11th, 2016. I will email the Winner and they have 7 days (1 week) to claim their prize.

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2015 Favorites (E-Books)

1/3/2016

3 Comments

Favorite E-Books From 2015

Here is a list of Tell Tale Book Reviews' favorite e-books read or reviewed* in 2015.
They are in not listed in any particular order.
You can find all of those reviewed and many more by visiting our Book Review List page,

Here

The Reckoning*

Paralyzed*

Isle Of Hope*

Texas K-9 Unit Series books 1-3*

Exiles*

Virtues And Valor 7 part serial story*

Love's A Stage*

Queen*

Torn Asunder*

Home Before Dark*

Darkness Reigns*

Wings Of Refuge series

Double Edge

Saltwater Taffie

A Matchmaker In Middlebury

We are excited to start reading and reviewing in the
new year and hope you will be joining us for...

3 Comments

E-Book Review - Isle Of Hope by Julie Lessman

12/28/2015

2 Comments

Genre:
Contemporary Romance

Isle Of Hope
Unfailing Love book 1
by Julie Lessman

-From Amazon-

She stole his heart. He stole her peace. Can hope steal their pain? At the age of eighteen, Lacey Carmichael was a wild girl bent on fun, promised to Jack O'Bryen, a straight-and-narrow pastor’s kid bent on the seminary. When her father kicks her out of the house, she runs away from Isle of Hope, turning her back on everything she loves. Now, eight years later, she’s back as a woman of faith, hoping to make amends to the father she defied, the boyfriend she deserted, and the best friend she denied. Only the bridges she’s burned are still smoldering, kindled by an adulterous affair by Jack’s pastor father that damaged his son’s faith. But can a turning of tables—and hearts—lead the way back to “hope” for them all?

ASIN: B0163HTXLU

Romance by the sea...

What an emotional roller coaster ride! Isle Of Hope caused all kinds of disruptions in my day, not only did I have a hard time putting it down but while I was making my breakfast I got to thinking so hard about the story that I walked out of the kitchen and forgot my Kindle, AND this is one of the only two or three books that have ever caused me to tear up.

Julie Lessman has done something quite different from the norm, there was no hero or heroine in this book, no, there were just real and very flawed people. The issues they all face are the same kind of things we face in our own lives. Isle Of Hope is story of love, loss, and most importantly forgiveness. Every facet of forgiveness. It isn't just a theme but is key to the entire story. No need to worry, Julie Lessman has a definite storyline and lots of her trademark romance.

This Book received a 5 Bark rating.

Julie Lessman

Author's Website

Isle Of Hope is wonderful read, one that will be going on my list of favorites for this year. I'll be anxious to see what Julie Lessman has for us in book two...

Tell Tale Book Reviews gives Isle Of Hope by Julie Lessman a 5 Bark rating.

P.S. Keep your eye out for a very special character.

2 Comments

New Titles to be reviewed...

12/12/2012

0 Comments

New Titles to be reviewed...
Hide And Seek by Maj (Ret) Jeff Strueker & Alton Gansky
Callie's Mountain by Kat Anderson (E-book)
When A Heart Stops by Lynnette Eason
A Light In The Window by Julie Lessman (E-book)
Spring Meadow Sanctuary by Lynnette Bonner (E-book)
And more coming soon!
Now to get back to my reading...

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2022 Birthday Celebration - Spotlight with Julie Lessman (Freebie, Giveaway)

Did you know that there is a character named
after me in the first two Isle Of Hope novels?

Comment Below!

It's Time For A Giveaway!

2022 Birthday Celebration - The Perfect Kiss by Julie Lessman

The Perfect Kiss?

Deep breath…

More from Julie

9th Blogoversary Celebration - Excerpt from The Secret Of Emerald Cottage by Julie Lessman (Giveaway)

EXCERPT FOR THE SECRET OF EMERALD COTTAGE

It's Time For A Giveaway!

2018 Birthday Celebration - Guest Post from author Julie Lessman + Excerpt & Giveaway

“The Perfect Kiss”

Deep breath . . .

Tell me in the comment section below
"which of the two kissing scenes YOU prefer and why",
and I’ll enter you for a chance to win a copy of any of
my e-books, including the e-version of Romance-ology 101.

Isle Of Hope by Julie Lessman Chapter Excerpt + Birthday Giveaway

Check Out My Review

Chapter Excerpt from
Isle Of Hope

It's Time For A Giveaway!

2015 Favorites (E-Books)

Favorite E-Books From 2015

E-Book Review - Isle Of Hope by Julie Lessman

Isle Of Hope
Unfailing Love book 1
by Julie Lessman

New Titles to be reviewed...

Author

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Did you know that there is a character named​after me in the first two Isle Of Hope novels?

Comment Below!

It's Time For A Giveaway!

The Perfect Kiss?

Deep breath…

More from Julie

EXCERPT FOR THE SECRET OF EMERALD COTTAGE

​​It's Time For A Giveaway!

​“The Perfect Kiss”

Deep breath . . .

​Tell me in the comment section below​"which of the two kissing scenes YOU prefer and why",and I’ll enter you for a chance to win a copy of any ofmy e-books, including the ​e-version of Romance-ology 101.

Check Out My Review

Chapter Excerpt from ​Isle Of Hope

It's Time For A Giveaway!

Favorite E-Books From 2015

Isle Of HopeUnfailing Love book 1by Julie Lessman

Author

Follow Us

Get new posts by email:

Archives

Categories

Did you know that there is a character named
after me in the first two Isle Of Hope novels?

It's Time For A Giveaway!

“The Perfect Kiss”

Tell me in the comment section below
"which of the two kissing scenes YOU prefer and why",
and I’ll enter you for a chance to win a copy of any of
my e-books, including the e-version of Romance-ology 101.

Chapter Excerpt from
Isle Of Hope

Isle Of Hope
Unfailing Love book 1
by Julie Lessman