Journal Jots – Blog

Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable. 

— Plato

WHOO-HOO, guess what I received yesterday??? Yep, my own personal copy of A Heart Revealed!!! Oh my, but it’s beautiful, and WOW, what a feeling when I crack the book open and read the first lines, which I always do!

 Keith was in the kitchen with me when I tore in to the UPS package, which could have just as easily been another Revell or Bethany House book. Baker Publishing has this wonderful Perk program where they allow their authors to select some free books, and so I wasn’t really sure if it would be AHR or not. I couldn’t even wait to pull the book out of its package, I just peeked in and saw the green cover with the art deco border and I squealed. I touched it, then Keith touched it and I think I may even have rubbed it against my cheek, you know, like you do with something that’s soft? But I’ve waited a year to hold this baby in my hands, so I give it my all.

“Do you want hear the dedication?” I say to Keith and he nods. “You bet.” So I read it to him, and my heart floods with love while my eyes flood with tears because this book—Sean O’Connor’s story as well as Emma’s—is dedicated to my own son, Matt. Here’s what I wrote:

 Dedication

To my amazing son Matt—

whose uncommon kindness, gentle strength and

love of sports provided the perfect framework for the hero of this book.

May Sean O’Connor touch the hearts and lives

of my readers just a glimmer as deeply and powerfully

as our son has touched ours.

 

Okay, I’m tearing up again reading those words, because I DO have an amazing son who is tender and loving and kind beyond my wildest dreams. But … I have to be honest … it wasn’t always that way.

You see, when my son was born, I just assumed that we would have this incredible bond that I’ve often heard women talk about with their sons. A deep love and communication that assures a mother that she is the apple of her son’s (or daughter’s) eye—at least until he or she turns thirteen, and then all bets are off! Anyway, having come from a very dysfunctional family where I did not feel loved, naturally I thought that having a child was an automatic source of love. I mean, all children have to love their parents, right? It’s built in to their genes, I thought, and it was a given. What wasn’t a given was how I reacted to my son when he was five years old and not even remotely demonstrative with affection. I would go to hug him, and he’d let me, but NEVER would he return the hug or tell me he loved me.

Now, I gotta tell ya, I was a Christian at the time, and a strong one to boot, but my son’s lack of affection and communication with me about destroyed me. The little girl in me (who was rejected by a mother she naturally assumed would love her) rose up so strong, that it caused major problems not only between my son and me, but between my husband and me as well. I came to a place where I was so desperate that I threw myself at the foot of God’s throne and BEGGED Him to help me be the mother He wanted to be. Begged Him to help me love my son like I needed to do. And begged Him to help my son become the boy and man God wanted him to be.

My answer to my prayers came late one night when I was putting my son to bed like I always did when he was five. I helped him brush his teeth, and then I read him a story, following it up with the same prayer we said every night, and, in fact, the same prayer I Faith O’Connor said to her girls in A Hope Undaunted:

 

Good night, sweet Jesus, the one I love best.

I have finished my work, and now I must rest.

You have blessed me this day, now bless me this night,

and keep me from danger till morning is light.

 

And then I would give him a hug, kiss him on the forehead and tell him I loved him. Except this one night as I headed for the door, something made me turn around and go back to Matt’s bed and sit beside him again.

“Matt,” I said, “would you mind if I gave you a Matthew hug?”

He blinked and said, “Sure, Mom, but what’s a Matthew hug?”

“Well, let me just show you,” I said, and then proceeded to bend down close as if I were going to hug him, only I didn’t put my arms around him, I just sort of lay there, hovering over his little chest. His soft, little giggle feathered my cheek and I smiled, pulling back to look into his eyes. “Bud,” I said, using the nickname we always used to show affection, “did you like that hug?” He shook his head and I stroked his cheek. “It doesn’t feel much like a hug, does it? Kinda makes you feel like you’re not as loved as in a real hug, right?” He nodded, his big brown eyes fixed on my face. “Well, you know what, Bud? That’s how I feel when you don’t put your arms around me when I hug you—I feel like you don’t love me as much, and it makes me sad, because moms need love too. So, can we try it again, but this time squeezing real tight?” He nodded and I bent down to hug him tightly, and I gotta tell you that the tear ducts were working overtime when my boy put his little arms around me and squeezed the breath out of me—or certainly the past hurt—just as tightly as he could. “I love you, Bud,” I whispered, and kissed him on the forehead once again. “Good night.” I walked to the door, and I will never forget what happened next.

“Mom?” he called, his little voice frail in the dark.

“Yeah, Bud?”

“Don’t ever give me another Matthew hug again, okay?”

Tears stung my eyes. “Okay, Bud, I won’t.”

That, my friends was not only an answer to a mother’s prayer, but it was a turning point in my son’s life and in my relationship with him. Slowly, from that point on, it seemed he could never tell us enough how much he loved us or give us enough hugs. I have memory files filled to the brim with letters that my son wrote us for no reason at all, sometimes on a daily basis. Incredible letters, telling us we meant the world to him and he would be lost without us and … yes, if you can believe it … what a wonderful mom I was and how much he loved me. This went on well in to his twenties, albeit much less frequently, but I always knew I could count on a 3-Kleenex letter from him on my birthday, Christmas and Mother’s Day.

So this book is special to me, not only because it’s about a woman who wasn’t loved by her parents or her husband, but because it’s about a son who has learned to love and give to his family and then learns how to love them just a little bit more through the amazing power of God. I hope you enjoy it, and may the Matthew hugs in your life be few and far between.

And NOW you know why “hugs” are so important to me. Have a blessed weekend, my friends.

Hugs and more hugs,

Julie

P.S. My blog giveaways are greatly reduced this year, so come see me while you can and maybe win a signed book at one of the following blogs this week:

 

AUGUST 21 to SEPTEMBER 2, 2011

Join me at Nora St. Laurent’s blog, Finding Hope Through Fiction, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://psalm516.blogspot.com/2011/08/julie-lessman-giveaway-hope-undaunted.htmlhttp://psalm516.blogspot.com/2011/08/julie-lessman-giveaway-hope-undaunted.html

 

AUGUST 21 to 27, 2011

 Join me at Amber Stoke’s blog, Seasons of Humility, for a chance to win a signed copy of my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://seasonsofhumility.blogspot.com/2011/08/end-of-summer-bash-welcome-julie.html

 

AUGUST 25 to SEPTEMBER 10, 2011

Join me at Casey Herringshaw’s blog, Writing for Christ, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://enjoyingthewritingcraft.blogspot.com/2011/08/special-giveaway-and-author-interview.html

 

AUGUST 25 to SEPTEMBER 3, 2011

Join me at Lena Nelson Dooley’s blog, A Christian Writer’s World, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2011/08/heart-revealed-julie-lessman-free-book.html

 

AUGUST 28 to SEPTEMBER 3, 2011

Join me at Pat Iacuzzi’s blog, American Historical Christian Fiction, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://www.patiacuzzi.com/Am_His_Books.html

 

“If you’re going to steal, steal a heart!”

— Anonymous Toast

Ah, romantic larceny—there’s nothing quite like it. Which is why, quite frankly, I’m a romance writer. There are few things I like better than having my heart stolen away by a wonderful novel with a pulse-tripping hero and a heroine I can not only cheer for, but swoon with when that heart-melting hero finally steals her heart. And mine!

Which is exactly what happened when I read Stealing Jake recently by one of my dear Seeker friends, Pam Hillman. Over in Seekerville, we have been chomping at the bit for Pammy to get published, so when she did, we went CRAZY!!! I mean, she’s the last of the 15 Seekers to do so, but I gotta tell you, it’s a mystery as to why it took so long. I read a ms. of Pam’s a number of years ago and was blown away that the woman didn’t have publishers beating her door down. Mind you, she’s finaled in the biggest and most important contest for unpublished writers, Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart, FOUR times, winning it one of those times and quite frankly, I thought her ms. was better than most of the published books I was reading in the CBA at the time. But, God’s timing is perfect, and now so is yours because do I have a deal for you!!

Not only can you be eligible to win a brand-new, latest Generation KINDLE with Wi-Fi and Pearl Screen, but it will be loaded with the following books:

o  Winter’s End by Ruth Logan Herne

o  A Passion Most Pure by Julie Lessman

o  Courting Miss Adelaide by Janet Dean

o  Sushi for One by Camy Tang

o  Love by the Book by Cara Lynn James

o  Rocky Mountain Hero by Audra Harders

o  One Imperfect Christmas by Myra Johnson 

o  Dreaming of Home by Glynna Kaye

What’s it cost to enter?? Not one red cent!! All you have to do is sign up for Pam’s newsletter, and you will be entered in the loaded Kindle giveaway, so here’s the link (click on the link below, not the picture that says “click to enter”: 

Pam Hillman’s Kindle Giveaway

AND … everybody who signs up for Pam’s newsletter to enter the Kindle contest will be entered into my own contest where one lucky person will not only win a top CBA book, but receive my personal Kindle copy of Stealing Jake free for two weeks (an option allowed by Tyndale and Amazon). So … all you have to do is let me know via Facebook at Julie’s Facebook  or through this website via the Contact Julie tab.

BUT WAIT … THERE’S MORE!! Because Stealing Jake is SUCH a fun read and Pam Hillman is SUCH a great gal, I will send a top CBA book of your choice to the first ten people who e-mail me that they have purchased/downloaded Pam Hillman’s Kindle book, Stealing Jake. Don’t have a Kindle? No worries! You can download e-books on ANYTHING, including PCs, Macs, iPads, iPhones, Cloud Readers, Androids, Blackberrys and Windows Phone 7. Here’s the link: Stealing Jake.

Now, here’s my review of Stealing Jake:

Romantic Larceny At Its Very Best!!!

Hold on to your hat—Light-fingered Livy will not only steal your heart, she’ll steal your sleep as well in Pam Hillman’s delightful debut novel, Stealing Jake, a heartwarming tale of a reformed pick-pocket on the lam who falls in love with a lawman.

A runaway from Chicago, Livy O’Brien flees to small-town Chestnut, Illinois where she devotes her life to the local orphanage, determined to help homeless street urchins like she used to be. But when thievery and mayhem pop up in sleepy Chestnut at the same time a group of rag-tag orphans arrive, Deputy Jake Russell finds himself butting heads and hearts with Livy who wants to save the ruffians from the town as much as Jakes wants to save the town from them. With clean, crisp writing, engaging characters and a intriguing plot chock full of toe-curling romance, adorable orphans and the perfect dose of mystery, Stealing Jake will nab your attention from the first page to the last. If you’re looking for a fun read, wholesome entertainment and a tender romance that will make you sigh, Stealing Jake is a steal of a read that definitely delivers the goods.

FINALLY … Don’t miss out on the following blog/interview/giveaways for A Heart Revealed this week, some of which have excerpts!!

 

AUGUST 14 to 20, 2011

Join me on the Margaret Daley’s blog for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://www.margaretdaley.com/2011/08/heroine-interview-from-a-heart-revealed-by-julie-lessman/

 

AUGUST 20 to SEPTEMBER 1, 2011

Join me at Nora St. Laurent’s blog, Finding Hope Through Fiction, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://www.psalm516.blogspot.com/

 

AUGUST 21 to 27, 2011

Join me at Amber Stoke’s blog, Seasons of Humility, for a chance to win a signed copy of my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://seasonsofhumility.blogspot.com/

 

AUGUST 25 to SEPTEMBER 10, 2011

Join me at Casey Herringshaw’s blog, Writing for Christ, for a chance to win a signed copy of any of my books including my upcoming release, A Heart Revealed at:

http://enjoyingthewritingcraft.blogspot.com/

That’s it for now. Have a GREAT weekend!

Hugs,

Julie

 

 “Sweet thunderation—deliver me from pretty men!”

— Cassady McClare, Dare to Dream, by Julie Lessman,

Book 1 of The Cousins McClare

And sweet thunderation, what a week! I’m closing in on a 100 pages of book 1 of The Cousins McClare, and I gotta tell you that I am LOVING this book so far!! Which is SUCH a relief because after being joined at the hip with the O’Connors for FIVE YEARS (from the point of writing to now), I’ll be honest—I was worried.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I trust that God will guide and direct me like He always has before, but it has been such a struggle falling in love with this family because let’s face it—they are not the O’Connors!

“Oh man, Keith,” I whined to my husband on the porch swing out on our deck where we chat and pray for a half hour every morning, “It’s SO hard to get the reader warm and fuzzy in a cold San Francisco mansion with servants and Nob Hill socialites. Especially when there is no happily married couple like Marcy and Patrick O’Connor to fill the house with a warm glow.”

Heavy sigh. “I mean, let’s face it,” I continue to moan, “the setting is cold. You have sea-damp San Francisco, upper-crust rich people, a lonely matriarch, a rogue brother-in-law who is still in love with her, and servants who wait on them. YIKES!! Not a whole lot of cozy, hearth-fire warmth going on there!”

“Well,” he says, taking a sip of our hazelnut coffee (which his cousin Mike calls “sissy coffee”), “maybe you could give them a pet.”

“Gosh, I don’t know, babe. I thought about that, but a dog just doesn’t seem right in a mansion, you know? Besides I already used golden retrievers with the O’Connors.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” he says, squinting into our wooded backyard. Well, how about giving them a parrot, you know, like you had growing up?”

I turned and stared at him with mouth agape. The man is a bloomin’ genius!

BINGO! Suddenly I had a vision of the parrot we had growing up, and everything clicked into place. You see, my dad was a widower and a little eccentric (uh, do you see a pattern here??), so he kept this parrot named Pancho in a large cage on a table next to his chair. Now, my dad was not weird or anything (he was an eye surgeon, so you can’t be too weird with that, right?), but every night at 7:00 PM, he had to have two ice-cream brown cows (on a stick), and it was our job (my sisters’ and mine) to make sure they were on his other end table at precisely 7:00 PM. If we were late, you don’t want to know what happened, trust me!

Anyway, it was my job to clean the family room and Pancho’s cage, so while I would be sweeping the dirt under the rug (yes, I really did that, but you will be happy to know, I don’t do it any longer), I’d teach Pancho songs to sing. For instance, I taught him how to sing the first bars of “What’s it all about, Pancho?” to the tune of “What’s It All About, Alfie?” and then I taught him “I love Pancho in the springtime” to the tune of “I Love Paris in the Springtime.” Now, mind you, it was not just enough for Pancho to sing these songs, which he did quite well, I might add, enunciating pretty clearly. Oh no, this bird had to dance side-to-side on the bar in his cage at the same time, his orange and black eyes getting bigger and smaller, bigger and smaller while he’d sing and dance. Soooo cute! Another trick I would do is to shake a bag of potato chips, and that little guy would follow me around the room, either stomping or flying—it didn’t matter. There was simply no question about it—I thought this bird was flat-out adorable!

Uh … until my dad yelled at me one night for only giving him ONE brown cow ice cream bar. Only I’d given him two, but sweet thunderation … one came up missing!! Yeah, you guessed it. There sat Pancho in his cage on the bar like a green-feathered angel, a half-eaten brown cow in his claw while those pin-wheel eyes just flashed and glowed. Gosh, what a hoot that bird was … “was” being the operative word.

You see, my dad liked to walk around the house with Pancho on his shoulder sometimes and this one day he forgot and went outside and, of course, Pancho flew away. My dad was SO broken-hearted that he got my sisters and I out of bed very early that morning (which was when it happened) and made us go outside and look for him. I’m guessing I was about fifteen or so, and I used to sleep with big curlers in my hair, which I kept in place with a pair of leopard underwear (I know, don’t ask!). Across the street from our house was a wooded hill that had a very old cemetery, and Daddy told me to go look up there. So, in my robe, curlers and leopard underwear, I took a bag of potato chips and went into the woods singing “What’s it all about, Pancho?” but alas, the bird had flown the coop … or in this case, the shoulder, never to be found again. Suffice it to say that the next pet was a black lab … a little harder to lose, thank God!

Well … now The Cousins McClare have a parrot, a very mischievous parrot who says things she shouldn’t (insults, not swear words) and her name is … Miss Behave! I am having SO much fun with Miss B. in this book, plus I’ve added a precocious five-year-old sister (you gotta have a kid, right?) and a crusty, old housekeeper who is sort of an Irish Ma Kettle (Google her if you’re too young). Throw in a spunky heroine who is a Texas cowgirl oil-heiress-gone-broke that would just as soon hog-tie a pretty boy as look at him and a to-die-for hero (is there any other kind in a Julie Lessman novel???) looking to marry well, and trust me—I’m having a total blast with this book!

 So … to wrap up my Journal Jot today, I thought it appropriate to give you a sneak peek at my first “romantic” encounter between the heroine Cassie McClare and the hero, Jamie MacKenna, to show you just why I’m having so much fun. I hope reading it will be fun for you too!

Let’s set up the scene. Jamie is the man who accidentally mowed her down at the train station in the very first scene of the book, so Cassie has given him the cold shoulder all night when she meets him again during a dinner given by her cousins. Wanting to escape his unwanted attention, she goes to her uncle’s billiard room to play pool by herself, where Jamie seeks her out.

Lost in her game, she was oblivious when he quietly entered the room and closed the door, watching as she methodically chalked her stick after every play before circling the table with all the ease of a saloon pool-hall hustler. His jaw dropped when she executed a three-ball shot he’d only seen one other time in a bar down on the wharf. A low whistle escaped before he could stop it. “Remind me not to play you for money.”

She whirled around, almost losing her balance, knuckles white on the cue and her face leeching past pale. “You could have knocked,” she rasped, the shimmering bodice of her seafoam-green dress quivering with every heave of her breath.

“And miss that mesmerizing display of skill and prowess?” he said, respect lacing his tone. He slipped his hands in his pockets and strolled in, his gait as casual as his smile. “The likes of which I’ve never seen in a man, much less a female?” He perched on the edge of the table. “Not on your life, Miss McClare. Where’d you learn to play like that, anyway?” he asked, his fascination with this unconventional woman growing by the moment.

“Uncle Logan,” she said with a heft of her chin, his compliment dusting her cheeks with a pretty shade of rose that actually accentuated her freckles.

Jamie shook his head with a fold of arms. “Oh, no you didn’t. I’ve played with Logan many a game, and I have never seen a shot like that out of him or Devin.”

The blush deepened. “He says I’m a natural,” she said defensively, almost sounding like an apology.

He studied her through a squint, in total agreement with Logan that she was, indeed, a natural. Heart-shaped face, luminous green eyes a man could drown in and hair the color of summer wheat, her creamy skin glowing with just enough freckles to give her that clean, wholesome air of the outdoors. A sliver of gold hair trailed her shoulder midway to her bodice, a shimmering stray from the pretty upsweep that framed her head like a halo. The silky curl trailed the curve of her breast, and he had a sudden urge to see her hair down, spilling as free as he suspected Cassie McClare liked to be, untethered by convention or fashion.

He rose and sauntered over to retrieve a cue from a casing on the wall, then casually twirled it in his hands, his eyes connecting with hers. He smiled that little-boy smile that had gotten him farther than any law degree. “He says the same about me, you know—in billiards, boxing and the law.”

She folded her arms and cocked her head, her smile as flat as the effect of his, apparently. “And women?”

He grinned, his eyes never straying from hers as he chalked his cue. “Sometimes. You up for a game?”

“With you?” She arched a brow. “No, thank you, Mr. MacKenna—I don’t play games with men like you.”

Ouch. She was obviously a woman who was honest and forthright, what you see is what you get, and God help him, what he saw, he definitely wanted. But … she didn’t want him. Yet. He softened his approach. “Come on, Cassie, one game of billiards isn’t going to kill you, and then you’ll have the chance to give me the thrashing I so obviously deserve.”

She hung her head and huffed out a sigh, finally meeting his gaze with a candid one of her own. “Mr. MacKenna—”

“Jamie—please.”

“Jamie, then …” she began slowly, as if attempting to soften the blow of what she was about to say. Sympathy radiated from those remarkable green eyes that reminded him so much of a pure mountain stream—unspoiled, refreshing … and icy enough to tingle the skin. Long sooty lashes flickered as if begging him to understand. “Look, no offense, but you just broke my heart.”

He blinked. “Pardon me?”

“Oh, not you exactly,” she said, dismissing his train of thought with a wave of her hand, “but a man just like you—you know, handsome, smart, the kind that melts a woman with a smile?”

A ridge popped at the bridge of his nose. “Uh, thank you—I think?”

She looked up at him then, head tilted in much the same way a mother might soothe a child, expression soft and tone, parental. “I’m sure you’re a very nice person, Mr. MacKenna, and we may even forge a friendship before the summer is through, but you need to understand something right now if that friendship is ever going to see the light of day.” She fisted his hand, patting it as if he were five years old, and in all of his twenty-six years, never had a woman given him a more patronizing smile. “You have zero chance …” She held up a hand, index finger and thumb circled to create an “O,” then enunciated slowly as if he were one of the livestock back on her ranch. “Zee-ro chance of ever turning my head because I have no interest in you or any man right now, especially a pretty boy.” She gave him a patient smile edged with just enough pity to get on his nerves. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but I see no point in hemming and hawing around a pesky hornet when I can just stomp on it before it stings.”

His jaw effectively sagged. “Hornet?” He’d been called a lot of things, but somehow, out of the pursed lips of this Texas beauty, this sounded like the worst, stinging his pride more than that blasted hornet. A nerve pulsed in his cheek as he carefully replaced his cue in the rack, her words barbing more than he liked. He turned, his smile cool. “Is that so? And what makes you think I have any interest in turning your head?”

She folded her arms again and hiked one beautifully shaped brow, her no-nonsense look daring him to deny it.

And, oh, how he wanted to. His jaw began to grind. But he couldn’t because it would be bald-faced lie, and they both knew it. He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, finally blasting out a sigh. “Okay, you’re right, Miss McClare—I was trying to turn your head, but I’m not stupid—I can see you obviously have no interest in me whatsoever.”

“None,” she confirmed, brows arched high in agreement.

He nodded, head bowed as he kneaded the back of his neck, peering up with a lidded gaze. “Which means, of course, that you have no attraction to me whatsoever …”

“Oh, heaven forbid.” Her body shivered in revulsion. “Not in a million years …”

He cocked his head, mouth slack and a trace of hurt in his tone. “Nothing—not even a glimmer?”

She shook her head, face scrunched as if she tasted something bad. “Absolutely not.”

He exhaled loudly. “All righty, then,” he said with a stiff smile, his pride effectively trampled. Rubbing his temple, he supposed there was only one thing left to do. He extended his palm with a conciliatory smile. “Well … I’m glad we got that settled and out of the way, then. So … friends?”

She stared at his hand as if it were a rattler about to strike, then shifted her gaze to his eyes, her lids narrowing the slightest bit. She absently scraped the edge of her lip before slowly placing her hand into his.

His hand closed around hers and he smiled. Ah … sweet vindication.

In a sharp catch of her breath, he jerked her to him so hard, the cue in her hand literally spiraled across the plush burgundy carpet. Thudding against his chest, she emitted a soft, little grunt, and her outraged protest was lost in his mouth, the sweet taste of her lips shocking him even more than he’d shocked her. She tried to squirm away and he cupped her neck with a firm hold, deepening the kiss until the fight faded away and her ragged breathing became one with his. Her scent intoxicated him—a hint of lilacs and soap and the barest trace of peppermint, and he stifled a groan while he explored the shape of her mouth, the silk of her skin, the soft flesh of her ear. Her pulse throbbed beneath his lips and he returned to kiss her with renewed urgency, relief flooding when her faint moan grazed warm against his skin. He gentled his mouth against hers, softly nuzzling before finally pulling away, satisfaction inching into his smile when she swayed on her feet, eyes in a glaze. “Nope, not in a million years,” he said with a tug of his coat. He planted a quick kiss to her nose and made his way to the door, delivering a grin over his shoulder. “You have a deal, Cassie McClare—friends it is.”

***

Remember … ONLY THREE DAYS left till A Heart Revealed is available on CBD.com and only nineteen days everywhere else, including Amazon.com!! I don’t know how it happened, but there are two reviews posted CBD.com, so you may want to check ‘em out!

Have a great weekend!

Hugs,

Julie