Writing, Romance & Escape
Hi Cynthia! First of all, I want to thank
you for letting me visit your blog today! I’m so blessed to be a writer today
when the Internet connects us. Our community of authors and aspiring writers is
a phenomenal blessing. I’m honored and blushing and totally happy to be a part
of it! My second sweet romance novella, Love Blossoms, released last week and
it’s got me feeling all inspired again - LOL! Such a delightful cycle.
LOVE BLOSSOMS:
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| Author, Julie Anne Lindsey |
I love to write about women in need
of a smile. Sometimes they know they need to smile. Sometimes they have no
clue. I think we all need to be swept off our pretty pink feet at least once in
our lives, so I set out to create a lady who’d never see it coming. My newest
story started this way.
Jillian Parker, my heroine, spoke to
my heart and said, “I’ve been burned in love, and I want what’s coming to me. I
want something real. Someone who means it when he kisses me. Someone worthy of
my trust.” Jillian stayed so busy taking care of everybody else, she was lost
in the dream of “someday.” Instantly, I wanted to give her what she asked for. So,
I gave “someday” a cupid style bump into “right now.” (I love my job). My heart
broke for hers, and Jillian Parker was born. I also knew she belonged in Honey
Creek. I have a strong connect with the women of that town (a fictitious town
in rural Ohio, the location for all stories in the Turquoise Morning Press’
Honey Creek imprint). I live in a similar place, complete with well-meaning
neighbors and good old fashioned ideas. I get the culture, and I understand how
hard it can be to wrangle feelings and reality. We want one thing but do
another. Real life can be bumpy, but I guarantee all my heroines one thing
reality doesn’t - they all get a toe curling, cheek pinking, happy ending!
True love conquers all in Honey
Creek. I get swept away into every scene I write. I put myself in their town,
see the fireflies over the lake, smell the tangy ash of a bonfire at my side, and
I feel the warm wind whipping hair into my eyes. Every new story takes me away
on location. The experience is simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting. I
get completely carried away like that when I write. I’ve been a broken cowboy,
angry and defeated, a teenage assassin waging intergalactic war, a woman
solving a mystery so her high school sweetheart can go free – and then she can
punch him in the nose for breaking her heart. One time I was in witness
protection and didn’t even know it!
No matter what story I’m writing or
where my imagination takes me, I always find love. I think the most mesmerizing
power in our world is attraction. The compulsion to walk through fire in the
name of protecting someone we love is something I can’t ignore. So, I promise
you, anything I write this side of death will always end in love. I’m hopeful
like that.
If you’re in the mood for a sweet
romantic read with a very happy ending, I hope you’ll visit Honey Creek. The
sun is setting, bullfrogs are croaking and the crickets are singing, “Come on.”
Sweet tea or hot cider. Fresh summer strawberries or crisp fall apples. You’ll
find it there. And taking a trip to Honey Creek is as easy as Amazon : ) I hope to see you there!
LOVE BLOSSOMS:
Jillian thought she had everything
she needed until Jackson walked through her door . . .
There’s a wedding coming to Honey
Creek and the whole town’s preparing for the party. When Jillian Parker agreed
to host a few groomsmen at her inn, she had no idea what she was getting into.
One of those groomsmen is Jackson Tate, and he’s making her concentration
completely impossible. He’s funny, fascinating, frustrating, and leaving in a
week. Jillian does not have time for that level of distraction. With Jackson
nearby, events to coordinate, a bride to please, and an ex-fiancé to dodge, her
peaceful life’s getting crazy fast. With any luck, she’ll survive the week
and put the whole thing behind her as soon as possible.
. . . But, not if Jackson has anything to
say about it.
Excerpt of LOVE BLOSSOMS:
“You used to cause quite a stir,” Jackson said into Jillian’s ear. “I bet
you haven’t danced since you came home.”
Jillian smiled the demure smile she’d perfected long ago and slipped out
into the night beside Danielle. A laugh split her friend’s face, and Danielle
hollered into the night sky. Watermelon Crawl boomed from the truck
speakers. An outrageous smile spread across Jillian’s face until her cheeks
ached. Memories flooded over her, and she was instantly 10 years younger. Her
muscles tingled, and the steps came back like a reflex to the sound of her
friends’ laughter and the sight of embers floating in the night sky.
Her skirt swung left and right along with her toe. Material caught her
thighs and infused her with energy. Beth’s squeal blasted out of the kitchen
door, and she nearly took Jillian down dashing onto the dirt beside her.
“Wooooo!”
Nothing mattered. How could anything matter?
The small troop of dancers stomped and turned in the firelight.
Fireflies and golden embers floated and blinked against the deep navy blue sky.
No walls contained them; no neighbors complained about the noise; no traffic
sounds interrupted the cricket and bullfrog chorus. There was no more freedom
on earth than she had right there. A round of clapping went up as the bodies
slowed and ambled in place, laughing and congratulating one another. They still
had it.
Giggles seasoned the air, and the music changed smoothly to another
lifelong favorite. Fishin’ in the Dark . She thought of all the
groomsmen planning to night fish before Mrs. Prattle’s punch kicked in the
night before. In a flash, men and women sided up ready to twirl and swing in
pairs. For a moment, Jillian stepped back to watch the couples, but a massive
shadow blocked the light from the fire. Jackson hitched an eyebrow and nodded
her way.
In the space of a heartbeat, the group was in motion, and so was she.
“You haven’t lost it, I suppose,” he said as their bodies came together.
She made the most of the time they were apart, enjoying his audience,
strutting her stuff. When they met again she said, “You’ve noticed.”
“Honey, every man in town’s noticed.”
The couples began to swing, but Jillian found her body airborne. Like a
feather in the wind, her feet swung left then right of Jackson’s hips. Clapping
and hooting ensued. No sooner was she grounded
again than she began to twirl. The rush of endorphins and joy shot up from her
feet to her hair, and her heart threatened to fly her to the moon.
About
Julie Anne Lindsey: Mother of three, wife to a sane person and Ring
Master at the Lindsey Circus. Most days you'll find me online, amped up on caffeine, and wielding a book.
You can find my blogging about the writer life at Musings from the Slush Pile
Tweeting my crazy at @JulieALindsey
Reading to soothe my obsession on GoodReads
And other books by me on Amazon
You can find my blogging about the writer life at Musings from the Slush Pile
Tweeting my crazy at @JulieALindsey
Reading to soothe my obsession on GoodReads
And other books by me on Amazon
