Historical romance author Jane Bonander returns to the publishing world with a new historical e-book, A Taste Of Honey.
When Jane’s husband died, she moved from California to Minnesota. After a period of adjustment, Jane met a man she’d known long ago–actually one she’d once kissed when she was six and he was eleven! They’ve been together now for some years and Jane is happy to report that love and romance can happen at any age.
It’s been a decade or so since the publication of her last historical romance, THE DRAGON TAMER, a reader favorite. Jane’s long-time fans, who have been eagerly waiting for news of a new book, will be happy to know that Jane is not only writing again but she has a number of books in various stages of completion.
Here’s more about Jane’s new book, A TASTE OF HONEY:
British born Honey DeHaviland wanted one night of passion before she saved her widowed father, a Greek scholar, from financial ruin by entering into a loveless marriage. Who would have thought that the stranger who gave her that passion would be the very man who was to ferry her to Crete to marry another? The journey proved fateful, for Honey fell in love. But she couldn’t afford to marry a penniless man, and from what she could see, her dream man was truly penniless. When she accidentally learned that he was, indeed, wealthy and he proposed marriage, how could she accept without appearing shallow and mercenary? Her refusal is the finest performance she has ever given.
Nick Stamos, born in Greece but educated in Boston, used his boat to transport goods from island to island, mostly as a favor to the locals. Although he rarely spoke of his true wealth, he owned a vast vineyard on Santorini and was a prosperous man. But when a soft-spoken professor asked him to bring his daughter to Crete to marry a wealthy Greek, Nick found himself face to face with the very woman he had “saved” from two drunken sailors the night before. Their night of passion was one he would never forget. And when he learns the reason for her arranged marriage, he wants to make her his own. Her refusal makes him question many things. Could he have been so wrong about her feelings for him?
Through hot, sultry days and warm, Mediterranean nights, the lovers ignore their ill-fated destinies and revel in the sizzling, sultry depths of their passion.
Excerpt: A TASTE OF HONEY by JANE BONANDER
Honey was on fire with determination. “Make love to me.” This was exactly what she wanted: a tall, handsome stranger to give her a night she would always remember. It couldn’t be more perfect if she’d planned it.
Her rescuer lifted one black eyebrow. “What?”
“Make love to me.”
He looked both puzzled and amused. “Just like that?” He snapped his fingers.
“Yes.” She stood and walked toward him, her breasts bare, her nipples taut and tingling, the secret place between her thighs coming alive. She should feel ashamed, brazen, but she felt only a sense of heat and knew this, this was what she had longed for.
She put her hands on his chest, her fingers moving through the thick, dark pelt that all but covered his own jutting nipples. His heart slammed against her palm and she realized he was not immune to her. The idea thrilled her.
His hands cupped her breasts and when his thumbs grazed her nipples, she inhaled sharply; the intensity of his touch forged a path all the way to her toes.
“Ah,” he began, “you are—”
“Shh,” she interrupted, rubbing her lips against his chest, “don’t speak.”
He laughed softly, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. “But talking makes it better.”
She liked his voice. It was deep and rich, and although he sounded like an American, he had a faint Greek accent. It heightened the adventure. “How?”
He pulled back briefly, studying her, his expression inquisitive and almost wary. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
She was beginning to wonder. New sensations tumbled through her and she ached with a need stronger than thirst. Perhaps she was getting in too deep, but it was too late, and what she was feeling was too good to stop. “Yes.”
He urged her toward the bed until the backs of her knees touched it. He then took a chair across from her. “Then take off the rest of your clothes.”
It was an order, and for some insane reason, she gladly complied. She had thought to be in control this night, but it was obvious that she’d met her match. Without taking her gaze from his, she unhooked her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it away.
He studied her languidly, although his eyelids were heavy and his eyes were as black as a night with neither moon nor stars. “Now remove the rest of them.”
She did as he asked and then stood before him. “These, too?” She tried to sound flippant as she swept a hand over her stockings, but her voice crackled with excitement.
“Sit on the bed and roll them off,” he ordered, “but sit directly across from me. I want to watch.”
©2011 by Jane Bonander