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Can someone keep secrets too long?
Headstrong novice pilot Becca Elliott, niece of Tom Tanner’s Tennessee Whiskey owner, is determined to fight in World War II with the Women’s Air Corps in England. Desperate to get there, when a War Production request lands on her doorstep, she schemes her way onto a rescue mission, one that involves no return home.
Captain Christian Tenney is hell-bent on joining his Army unit in Africa. Frustration smolders when he’s redirected to Tennessee on a high-priority assignment. There is no time to lose or to figure out the lovely Becca’s motive or her relationship with the German POW working at her distillery, who may or may not have key information that could guarantee the mission's success.
Posing as a married couple, Becca and Tenney race across Europe to secure a noted professor and his antifreeze formula, which could ensure victory for the American Allies. Amid subterfuge, treachery, betrayal, and possibly treason, Becca’s growing attachment to the rigid, principled Captain clashes with duty, sacrifice, and consequences. Despite extraordinary odds, their wartime relationship evolves and comes to a head.
Rescuing the professor, saving her distillery, and finding happiness—and perhaps love are intertwined with the stakes of survival. Will Becca discover that peace and love are much like making good whiskey—results require vigilance, patience, and faith?
Read an Excerpt
Diesel brakes screeched, forewarning the disgorging of incoming soldiers from the arriving locomotive. Doors banged open. Young recruits, most without uniforms, some who appeared never to have shaved, wore identical expressions of uncertainty and apprehension as they spilled out of the train. Becca scooted out of the passengers’ path as they jostled and pushed their way through the terminal. She glanced again at the station manager’s office window.
“Miss Rebecca Elliott?” A baritone voice with a touch of a Southern lilt inquired.
Becca turned. A tall, handsome man in an Army captain’s uniform addressed her. He had a friendly yet quizzical expression on his face.
“Yes, please call me Becca.” The captain’s face changed from a smile to a discernible grimace when she confirmed who she was.
“Becca, I didn’t see you out here.” Mr. Dean emerged from his office and claimed her arm. “My apologies. Do come in, come in. You must be Captain Tenney,” he said, extending his hand to the officer, who had approached her. “Please come in. Would you like some coffee or lemonade?”
“Lemonade would be wonderful,” Becca answered.
“Yes, thank you,” the captain replied. “And thank you for the use of your office this afternoon, Mr. Dean, I presume. If possible, I need to take a private telephone call. Is there another office where I can receive it?”
“Indeed, my bookkeeper’s office is straight through this door.” Dean gestured.
One of the sergeants Becca had followed to the terminal approached the open office door, and handed off a thick brown leather briefcase to the captain. “Sergeant Ludwinsky has gone to collect your bags. Anything else, sir?”
“Yes, put in a call to Colonel Ashe. Tell his officer on duty I’ve arrived. He can reach me here at Mr. Dean’s office. Miss Elliott, will you join me in the bookkeeper’s office?”
Becca slipped by the captain into the tiny adjacent office and waited in the corner for the officer to enter.
“Please have a seat,” he said, motioning to a chair. He placed his briefcase on the desk, pulled the chair out from behind it, and sat to face her. She studied him while he grabbed his briefcase, unlocked it, and reached inside.
She’d already noted his physical stature, how his uniform must have been tailor-made to accommodate his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His rugged presence made him stand out among the slew of khaki-colored uniforms crowded in the terminal. A masculine scent of sandalwood wafted between them. Was he the officer she was supposed to meet, who had been collaborating with her uncle on a critical mission? She inched back in her seat. Why the need for this conversation?
He removed his captain’s hat, set it on the desk behind him, and ran his fingers through thick black hair. He gazed upward at her, returning her stare with arresting dark blue eyes.
“I want to make certain I have the correct Rebecca Elliott. From Tom Tanner’s Tennessee Whiskey Distillery?”
“Why yes.” She smiled but couldn’t help but wonder why this was disconcerting news.
He opened a manila folder, glanced at the first page, then flipped through at least three more. “Miss Elliott,” he said, “until forty-eight hours ago, I thought I’d be waiting in DC for the delivery of a German prisoner of war. Instead, I am here in this train terminal in the middle of the country, trying to investigate why, after four years of studying Military History at West Point and another four years of active duty service, I have never heard of a prisoner of war demanding complete changes in a military mission of their enemy. And seemingly, most, if not all, concerns you.”
About the Author:
As the daughter of a United States military officer, Joy Allyson developed a deep appreciation for history and a passion for travel. This former teacher, now author, has an unquenchable thirst for historical romances filled with captivating conflict and delights in weaving historical nuggets into her love stories.
Her favorite characters are rebel heroines and salvageable scoundrels. She believes the most treasured romances are the ones you can revisit again and again.
Joy loves classic movies, chocolate, coffee, cards, and carbs. Joy also enjoys hearing from her readers. She and her husband reside in the beautiful Tennessee hills, with her two daughters and grandchildren close by.
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