The Sweetness of Honey
October 7, 2014

1) The Sweetness of Honey is another Hope Springs book.

2) It’s the story of Indiana Keller.

3) There are two heroes…for part of the book anyway.

Here’s an excerpt:

“I’m not coming up,” she finally told him, when he hadn’t moved to get out. When he hadn’t said a word in the two or three minutes since she’d parked. When he’d done nothing but look through the windshield where the street lamps caught every hint of moisture on the pavement and sparkled.

“I didn’t ask you to,” he said at last, still facing forward, hunched a bit, his busy hands pressed between his knees. That left her a bit uneasy. His nervousness. How antsy he was. How out of sorts.

“Then . . . good night. Thank you for the evening—”

“What do you want from me, Indiana?” he asked, his head turning slowly until the look in his eyes, so bottomless and dark as they stared into hers, had her heart rising to pound at the base of her throat.

“I don’t want anything. Well, except for what I’ve hired you to do. With the cottage,” she said, her pulse making itself known throughout her body. “I mean, at the very least I’d like your friendship, but if for some reason we can’t be friends—”

It was all she got out before his hand was in her hair, bringing her face to his, her mouth to his, her lips and tongue to his in such an act of desperation, she couldn’t find the strength to back away, or to say no, or to do anything but share in the devastatingly draining emotion.

What was this man’s damage? What was he looking to her to fix or to make whole, or just to soothe because he couldn’t do it alone?

He kissed her as if he were on fire, as if she could douse whatever it was burning him up. His hand at the back of her head was hot. The fingertips of the other, where they brushed her jaw, were sure to leave blisters on her skin. An obvious exaggeration, but oh, everything about this moment felt that way.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Should she touch him? Should she leave them where they were wrapped tightly around the wheel? Should she tuck them between her knees to keep from reaching for him? What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know what she was supposed to do because she didn’t know if this, from him, was what she wanted.

But she wasn’t unmoved, and so she kissed him back, finally reaching up to grip his wrist, a grounding, an anchor, a solid reminder of where she was, because everything around her seemed too ethereal to grasp, and all she knew was this man. He smelled like rain on a dark night, rich and electric, a dangerous storm set to strike.

He tasted like the wine he’d had with dinner, the bourbon he’d had after, the coffee he’d had with dessert. The barest hint of the cigarette he’d smoked while waiting for the valet to bring her car. It was the first time she’d ever seen him indulge, and the lingering hint of tobacco wasn’t unpleasant.

His tongue made hers tingle, and the pressure of his lips, soft yet slightly chapped, started a sweet, exquisite tension building in her body. Oh, this was so unexpected, so beautifully, frightfully out of the blue. She didn’t know whether to revel in the sensation, or run far, far away.

Before she had a chance to decide, and almost as quickly as he’d started, he stopped, releasing her mouth, then pulling his wrist from her grip. His hand in her hair was the last to let go, and she fought against feeling bereft. Surely she wasn’t that hungry for human contact, that desperate to be wanted?

His door opening had her searching out his darting gaze; he was leaving just like that? Yes, she’d told him, and herself, that she wasn’t coming up to his loft. But she needed to figure out this push-pull thing between them, and she couldn’t if he was going to walk away.

“Thanks for driving,” he said, adding, “friend,” as he stepped out of the car. Then he leaned back in, one hand on the roof, one hand on the door, his eyes, wicked and bright, reflecting the glow of the street lamps through the windshield. “Be safe. And don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.”

Then he slammed the door and turned for the sidewalk, leaving her staring after him without a clue as to what they’d just done. Or what he’d meant by his parting remark.

Welcome to Hope Springs, Texas, where redemption grows…and where love blooms.

Dark-haired beauty Indiana Keller buys a property in Hope Springs, Texas, for three reasons: to expand her vegetable business, to harvest and sell delicious honey from the property’s established bee colony, and to reunite with her estranged siblings. But her older brother Tennessee keeps his distance, even after Indiana hires his construction crew to fix up her cottage. It’s almost as if he shares her guilt over the disappearance of Dakota, their missing brother…

While Indiana tries to reconnect with Ten and find Dakota, two local men begin vying for her heart. Handsome, laid-back Will Bowman has a checkered past, but now he’s determined to get what he wants out of life…and he wants Indiana. Meanwhile, refined Oliver Gatlin can’t fight his own attraction to Indiana, especially since his brother also fell victim to tragic circumstances. Amid the raw natural beauty of Hope Springs, can Indiana’s heart finally heal enough to love?