What You’ll Find in This Blog Today:
Update on my New Mystery/Suspense!
What’s Next for Me?
Romance Readers’ Poll!
Giveaway on Valentine’s Day!
Sales Continue Through January!
NEW Excerpt From my New Mystery/Suspense!
A New Year, A New Book!
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!! I’m a half scene away from finishing my very first mystery/suspense, and I gotta tell you that I really, REALLY like it, which is something I don’t often say after I finish a book. Usually I end up somewhat disappointed, thinking the story or characters are not all that great, but then it grows on me as I edit.
Yep, not this one. For some reason, the more I wrote, the better I liked it, so I hope you do too! And miracles of miracles, it’s over 100 pages shorter than my other books, clocking in at about 400 pages (most of mine are in the 500+ range), so that is quite an accomplishment for this author, as you well know.
Unfortunately, it will be a while before I’m able to get The Secret of Emerald Cottage out to you because I am going to submit it to publishers first, just to see if anyone will bite. If not, I will most likely publish it myself for release this summer, so your prayers are appreciated that this will go the way God wants it to go.
What’s Next for Me?
So, what’s next for me? Well, I’ll spend a week or two editing The Secret of Emerald Cottage, then I’ll jump right into writing book 2 of The Cousins O’Connor series, A Hope and a Prayer. This will be Gabe’s cousin, Hope Dennehy’s, story, so prayers appreciated as I once again navigate the waters of WW2 and post WW2 in the continuation of the O’Connor family saga. If all goes well, I’ll have this one out for you this fall.
Romance Readers Poll!
And now I have a favor to ask! It’s that time of year for Family Fiction magazine’s annual Christian Romance Readers Poll, where you can vote for up to five of your favorite Christian authors, and I hope I’m one.
But even if I’m not, PLEASE vote to show your support for both Family Fiction magazine and Christian Fiction in general. It’s a VERY simple process, which I’ve listed below. Also, if you know anyone else who loves Christian romance, please feel free to forward this link to them as well.
And if you do vote in the Christian Romance Reader’s Poll, shoot me an email at CONTACT JULIE, and I will automatically enter you in a giveaway for your choice of any of my indie e-books and a character named after you in my next book. NOTE: You do not have to vote for me to be entered in the giveaway.
Here are the steps and the link, so thank you VERY much!
Sales Continue Through January!
I am ALSO continuing my 50% sale on two of my most recent e-books, A Wing and a Prayer AND Love’s Silver Bullet through January, so I hope you take advantage and check out the trailer/videos for each below along with the buy links on Amazon.
Arms draped over the steering wheel and chin on top, Brec glared straight ahead, watching Bree walk toward his car out of the corner of his eyes, teeth milled so tight he thought they might snap. He hadn’t been this mad since he’d been forced to take an anger-management class when he’d bashed in an opponent’s head after a game. He had to admit the class had worked wonders. He hadn’t lost his temper since. He ground his jaw.
Tip #1 in Controlling One’s Temper: Think before you speak. Oh, yeah, and Brec was thinking plenty. Like why in the deuce would a woman as smart as Bree traipse around a mostly secluded lake by herself after having a premonition of being murdered? It was just plain stupid, and Brec planned to tell her straight to her teeth.
Bree opened the car door and got in. “Hey, I’m sorry I took so long, but I wanted to offer my condolences to Pastor Dave about Greg and maybe a dig a little, but he sure didn’t want to talk.”
Yeah? Neither do I. More like scream …
Tip #2: Once you’re calm, express your anger. Yeah, that was a tough one because “calm” was nowhere in sight as Brec ground his thumb against the ignition button and slammed into gear, still so hot under the collar, he was surprised his shirt wasn’t on fire.
Placing her purse on the floor of the of his car, Bree buckled up. “Mmm … going to ice cream at Coldstone sure sounded good, so maybe we can go after shooting, what do you think?”
He grunted his assent. How ‘bout before because I sure in the deuce need something to cool me down.
Tip #3: Get some exercise. In the past, when he lost his temper, the only exercise he’d resort to was his fist, but that wasn’t an option, so he gunned the engine with pedal to the metal instead, all but peeling out of the parking lot.
“Uh, Brec, are you … okay?” Bree asked, concern tingeing her tone as she laid a tentative hand on his arm.
It took everything in him not to fling it away. “Fine.” He stared straight ahead, the burn of her gaze on his profile singeing along with the stupid collar.
“Are you sure?”
Tip #4: Take a Timeout. Good idea! Slapping his blinker on, Brec squealed to a stop on the side of the road and slammed the vehicle into PARK. He spun to face her. “No, I’m not all right, Princess. You promised you would take care of yourself,” he shouted, stunned at the depth of his fear but too angry to be stunned at how much he cared. “Yet off you went, jogging by yourself through woods around a lake where break-ins, arson, and murders have taken place. And all after a premonition about being murdered!”
“Brec,” she began in a conciliatory whisper, “Cat and Chase weren’t around that day, and you’d taken Miss Lilly into the city, so I didn’t have any choice.”
He wagged his head up and down in an exaggerated fashion, his sarcasm gaining both volume and vigor with every word ground out. “Oh, I see—no one was around to even help if you did get in trouble and scream …”
“Listen to me, Brec”—her voice rose to counter his.
“No, you listen to me, Breanna Stewart,” he shouted, jabbing a blunt thumb to his chest, “I care about you, Miss Lilly cares about you, and a whole a host of other people care about you, woman, so if don’t have the sense to think about yourself, then at least have the common courtesy to think about us!”
She blinked and then again when a glaze of moisture filled her eyes. “Brec, I … I’m so very sorry … I didn’t realize. Will you forgive me?”
Chest heaving, he stared as a single tear trailed her cheek, thinking he’d be lost if anything ever happened to her, devastated if anyone touched a single precious hair on her head. In one ragged breath, love welled in his chest and with a deep groan, he jerked her close and held on with all of his might, face buried in the soft folds of her hair. “Of course I forgive you,” he said, pressing a shaky kiss to her hair before his lips trailed to the shell of her ear, his breath warm against her skin and his. “But you have to promise to not go jogging alone again, Bree, do you hear?”
She nodded, and the heat of his anger slowly seeped out, only to be replaced by a heat of a whole other kind when his lips wandered to the lobe of her ear, touching, tasting forbidden fruit denied far too long. “I care too much about you, Bree,” he whispered, his senses roused by the scent of her perfume, the taste of her skin, “and I’d be shattered if anything happened to you …” He could hear her ragged breathing, and with a rush of longing too urgent to defy, his mouth took hers with a reverence he’d never felt for a woman before, gently fondling until her soft mew issued an invitation he couldn’t refuse.
And yet he did.
Because this friendship was too important.
And so was she.
Gently pushing her back, he cupped her face in his hands, trying hard to focus on blue eyes spanned wide instead of those wet, lush lips parted in shallow breaths. “I’m sorry, Bree—I shouldn’t have done that because we’re friends without benefits and nothing more, so I guess we both need forgiveness today.” Clearing his throat, he pulled away to buckle his belt, his smile tight as he pressed the ignition. “Am I forgiven?”
She blinked and then nodded while she inched back into her own seat, still staring as she buckled hers as well.
“Good. So, this never happened then, aye?” Yeah, right. Tell that to my heart. He forced a stern look that was painfully at odds with the love in his eyes. “So, if you don’t want this to happen again, woman”—he aimed a warning finger barely punctuated by a smile—“don’t do it again.”