Like the captain of a vessel, there had been one man that charted the course of Amelia’s life, her grandfather, and now he was gone. Just when she was learning to navigate on her own, along came Gabriel. What began as a job interview for small town college student Millie Anderson turned out to be so much more. Upon sight of her future boss, she was captivated. Was it the thrill of young love, forbidden fruit or was Gabriel Hewitt the moon to her tide? The pull toward him was undeniable... moreLike the captain of a vessel, there had been one man that charted the course of Amelia’s life, her grandfather, and now he was gone. Just when she was learning to navigate on her own, along came Gabriel. What began as a job interview for small town college student Millie Anderson turned out to be so much more. Upon sight of her future boss, she was captivated. Was it the thrill of young love, forbidden fruit or was Gabriel Hewitt the moon to her tide? The pull toward him was undeniable. Gabriel was older, wiser, more experienced in the ways of the world and unlike any of the college boys. He was a man, a real man. Some books are Southern Satire, some are Romance, but Port Honor is the blend of both. Port Honor is the story of first love and rising to the occasion when it comes to the challenges life presents in the South. Excerpt from the book... My pulse had quickened at the sight of him and the sound, the demand in his voice urging the door to bend to his will. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the build, the height; he could have been Hitler’s wet dream. He was the very definition of easy on the eyes. The door was not the only thing that might have been about to come undone. I was incredibly nervous with being late and then the agony of sitting there waiting and now the sight of him. My mind had roamed to the thought of whether this was a test or punishment for being late: if I waited then I had the job or had he just hoped to keep me waiting until I gave up and went away. Had I not taken the hint and now I was just wasting more of his time? Was he pissed? He had just cursed at a swinging door. I gathered my nerve and stood as he came toward me. I was still trying to decide whether to make my apologies and run or to stay when he started to speak. “Miss…” he trailed off snapping his fingers trying to recall my name. Right, I suppose a man that looks like this has never bothered to remember a woman’s name beyond that of his mother or perhaps even his grandmother, but that may be stretching it. I extended my hand to shake as he approached. “Anderson, Millie Anderson,” I said as he took my hand. When our hands touched for the shake, I could feel a current run through me. My heart pounded and the room was suddenly hotter. Our eyes locked for a moment and he suddenly broke the connection, eyes and hands. Had he felt that as well? less
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