Y’all please welcome T.S. to the Book Nook.  T.S. hails from my home county in Georgia and was brought to my attention by a dear friend from high school.  I don’t think you have to be a Southerner to enjoy & appreciate the Port Honor series. T.S. is generously giving away a print set of her series (Sorry, U.S. only) to one (1) lucky commenter.  Giveaway ends @ 12am est 4-13-14. Good Luck y’all!
Has anyone ever turned your head to the point that you thought your head was going to spin right off your shoulders, but in a good way?

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 trails 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?


Port_Honor_Cover_for_KindleIt was 1995 and Amelia “Millie” Anderson’s world had been turned upside down. The rock of her life, her grandfather had died. She changed colleges. She got a new job and met her new boss, Gabriel Hewitt. He turned her head and her heart and provided her the motivation she needed to chart a new course. With Gabriel came a tug like nothing she had ever felt. Something pulled her toward him and it was a love like she had never felt before. Was the turning of her head enough? Was the pull toward him enough? Was love enough?

in search of2


From blazing a trail to Atlanta at break neck speeds in the moments after the bombing of Centennial Olympic Park on July 27, 1996, to fervently laying the groundwork for his future happiness, Gabriel Hewitt takes you along with him on a roller coaster ride of emotions in the second book in The Port Honor Series, In Search of Honor. It is the ride of his life and a poignant story of rising to the occasion and staying the course, no matter how many roadblocks crop up…(Synopsis from Amazon)

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Born and raised in Jefferson County, Georgia, I first left home for college at age eighteen. I headed off to Piedmont College in Demorest, Georgia for my freshman year and finished up at Georgia College and State University in Milledgeville, Georgia where I received my Bachelor of Science in History.
While in college I became familiar with both the mountains of north Georgia and the lake country of middle Georgia. I worked at a number of restaurants and one golf and country club on Lake Oconee. After college, I moved to the Atlanta area and have worked as a paralegal for the last fifteen years. In that  time I have become a wife and mother. Over the years I have had a fabulous time of meeting a world of people, hearing their stories and making some of my own. I feel the time has come to share a few of those stories.
Some of my friends joke that I am as country as a turnip-seed and that I must have been conceived in a trailer. Well it’s true. I am a bit country and I was conceived in a trailer. Some joke that I am so Southern that I was surely in a jug band at one point. That’s not true, if I had messed with my mother’s jug or washboard, she would have skinned me. Those were just for decoration, you know. I know the true meaning of “bless your heart” and just when to use it. I know the difference in the terms “naked” and “nekkid” and not just because Lewis Grizzard defined them for me. I am a Southerner, and pretty proud of it. In my writing, I hope you to find an escape to my version of the South.