“The sudden silence was deafening.”
“Blake saw something move behind Connie’s gaze, some liquid stir of secret emotion.”
“Her sister reminded Connie of a dried flower, or maybe a black and white photo. Somewhere in her past, the color had been drained from her life, and Connie couldn’t quite recall when.”
“’There are two things that define a person,’ he said levelly. ‘Your patience when you have nothing, and your attitude when you have everything.’”
“The moment he kissed her had haunted her ever since. She still felt little flutters of her heart, like lingering tremors that follow a quake.”
“’I’ve spent endless hours studying your face and talking photos of you,’ Blake said solemnly ‘and yet I don’t think I ever saw you quite as clearly, or as perfectly as I see you right now.’”
Despite my love of steamy books, I may have been one of the few people alive who had not read a Jason Luke book, yeah – I know! But until I recently picked up The light house, I belonged to that tiny minority. I get it now – this guy has some writing chops. Mr. Luke’s descriptive writing for The light house was emotive, melancholy, and quite moving. I wasn’t expecting such a tender and gentle love story between a grieving male recluse, and a woman running away from her poor choices. At times the story seemed a bit melodramatic, but grief does bring those overlays to bear. I was captivated by both the plot and the writing style, and breezed right through the book in a day. But to my vast shock and despite Mr. Luke’s erotic reputation, this book was so tame I plan to recommend it to my elderly mother and her Sunday School book club… you heard me… there were no graphic sexual scenes, in fact, there was no sex at all until I was at the 70% mark, and even then, it was PG rated. I am stunned, but my mother and her blue haired friends will be delighted.