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Karen Hawkins

Karen Hawkins Biography

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“Real magic came from finding just the right type of chocolate to make your favorite cookies with. It came from that ease and comfort you got when you walked down a street you really, really knew. It came from eating hot biscuits with honey butter with your sisters at the same kitchen table you'd sat at when you were five. And it came from waking up with the man who made you smile.”

Loved OnesTrue HappinessReal Magic
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“This time it was a strawberry shortcake with homemade whipped cream. If Angela closed her eyes, she could still remember the fluffy perfection of the shortcake, the ripe flavor of the strawberries, the sweet thickness of the cream. But more than that, she remembered a summer day from her childhood that the cake made her recall. She'd been only seven years old, and on the hottest day of the summer, she and Daddy had gone down to Sweet Creek, which ran right through town, meandering behind houses and through the park, until it emptied into Dove Pond itself. Daddy had loved creeks, and there was nothing he liked better than to roll up his pants and walk barefoot over rocks worn smooth by cool, shimmering water. She'd learned to love that same experience herself. That summer day, the heat of the late afternoon had dissipated as the coolness of the water washed over their feet. They'd held hands as they walked, and had laughed and talked as they splashed and scared off more fish than she could count. Oh, how she relished that memory. And Ella's cake had made it so immediate, so real, that when Angela had finished swallowing the final bite, she'd had to wipe away happy tears. That had been one of the best days of her life. But then that was the beauty of an Ella Dove cake. It wasn't just the flawlessness of the bake, or the richness of the flavors, although they were something to behold themselves. It was the unexpected memories of those perfect combinations of flavor and texture stirred. The glimpses of special, exquisite moments from one's past were astoundingly real and, oh, so precious.”

Memories Of DaddySpecial GiftStrawberry Shortcake
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“Beni öldürmen korkunç bir hata olur. Ailemdekı kadınlar kötü bir şekilde öldürüldükleri takdirde, hayalet olarak geri dönme eğilimindedir." Thomas'ın bakışları Fia'nın gözlerine kilitlendi. "Hayalet mi?" "Evet, süzülen beyaz elbisemi giyinir, boğazımdan acı sesler çıkarırım. Böyle bir şeyi görmekten pek hoşlanmazsın.”

MacleanMuch Adı About MarriageSen Kimseyi Sevemezsin
Book:Much Ado About Marriage
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“Over the past four months, she'd been plagued by annoying dreams in which she was chased by a giant, silver-papered cupcake with strawberry frosting. In every dream, the huge cupcake chased her through the tree-lined streets of Dove Pond to the highest point of Hill Street. The dream always ended with her standing alone and terrified in front of the Stewart house. She might have been able to ignore those dreams, but every time she had one, sometime after the dream ended, strawberry frosting would appear somewhere on her arms or legs. Sometimes it showed up as a plump rose, perfectly made, as if ready for a wedding cake. Sometimes, like just now, it showed up in a long, delicate curlicue. The frosting was always pink, always smelled like strawberry, and was always annoying.”

DreamMagical RealismStrawberryFrosting
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“There, on her fingertips, was a faint slash of strawberry frosting drawn into a tiny heart. "What's that?" Gray captured her hand and lifted it so the porch light shone on her fingers. "That's strawberry frosting." She nodded. "That's my favorite. Every year, for my birthday, Mom bakes me a cake with strawberry frosting." She looked down at the frosting, her eyes widening. Oh my gosh. It wasn't Angela at all. It was Gray. She closed her hand over the small heart, and her fingers tingled. When she opened her hand, the frosting was gone.”

RomanceMagical RealismStrawberryFrosting
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“You have a gift for flavors. I---" She chuckled, her gaze suddenly soft. "My momma used to make chocolate-covered caramels when I was a tiny thing. She made them every Easter and the whole house would smell like this. Like happiness." As Aunt Jo smiled, Ella's heart eased even more. Somehow, she knew the gentle memory was because of the cardamom. "I declare, but I haven't thought of that in years." Aunt Jo gave a final chuckle and dropped the spoon onto the counter. "I remember those days so well now. The memories are so vivid, so real. It almost feels like I'm really there, like I'm hearing her voice and smelling that---" Her gaze fell on Ella, and she stopped, her eyes widening. "Ella! We may have found your special ability." Ella blinked, her mind jangling with a thousand thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, she was special after all.”

BakingPrecious MemoriesSpecial GiftCardamom
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“Cinnamon, cloves, and..." Angela tilted her head to one side. "Ginger?" Darn it. "You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?" Using her fork, Angela pointed to the cake. "Fresh peaches too." Ella sighed. "The Piggly Wiggly just got a shipment from Georgia. That's what made me decide to make that cake to begin with." "It's delicious. This is the first upside-down cake I've had with pralines." Angela licked her fork, her expression softening. "John loved peaches, but I told him he didn't know good peaches until he'd had one right off the tree, made sweet by the heat. They should be soft, but not too much, and smell like..." Angela closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she could smell those fresh peaches. "One summer, I had Jules bring tree-ripened peaches with her when she came to drop off the boys in the Hamptons for their vacation. You should have seen John's face when he bit into that first one. You'd have thought he'd seen a glimpse of heaven.”

CakePeachesPrecious Memories
Book:The Secret Recipe of Ella Dove
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“Could he be naked beneath his breeches? They seemed molded to him, outlining the powerful lines of his thighs and the swell just above— Oh, God. She closed her eyes. She’d been looking at his—Not only was it rude, but it had sent an amazing tingle through her, almost as if she’d touched it. “Fiona, if you ever look at me like that again, I will not be held responsible for what I do.” Jack was so close that she could feel his breath on her temple. “Do you understand?”

IfsFeelsLooksEyeLinesPowerfulBreathsResponsibleNakedTouchedTemplesHer EyesRudeLook At MeThighsOutlining
Book:How to Abduct a Highland Lord
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“As Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansion rose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality and craftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!” Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed, love. I would appreciate them all the more there.”

StoriesHomeLastsNightWishQualityStepsFiveDoorsFeetBedAppreciateWindowRoseObviousHeavyClimbsMassiveCommentStairsWish YouMansionsGood GodCraftsmanshipNew HomeMoldingWindows And Doors
Author:Karen Hawkins
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“Her honor will come to no harm at my hands,” Jack said. “’Tis not her honor but her tender heart that I worry about,” Alexander said. “She’s a delicate lass,” Hugh added. “Aye,” said Gregor. “A Scottish rose.” “Your tender, delicate rose had me ambushed, knocked unconscious, and forced to wed,” Jack ground out. “Facts you all know, if you’ve spoken to Hamish.” Dougal grinned, his teeth flashing whitely. “She has the devil’s own temper, our Fiona does.”

IfsKnowsHeartDoeSaidFactsHandsWorryHonorDevilRoseHarmTeethUnconsciousTemperDelicateScottishTender Hearts
Book:How to Abduct a Highland Lord
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“One good thing that comes from living the nomadic life demanded by an expedition is that one sheds the fake skin donned from living too closely among society. For those of us who live for the freedom of such a lifestyle, that skin is dry and itchy and ill fitting. From my observances, that skin is much like a callus caused by the pure irritation of being forced to spend so much time with one's fellow man. Thank God I am spared such nonsense.”

MenPureSkinsFellowsGood ThingsIllLifestyleFakeDryNonsenseThank GodShedFellow ManFittingIrritationExpeditionsObservanceNomadicItchyCalluses
Book:The Taming of a Scottish Princess
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“I need a bath." He chuckled. "You smell of smoke, as do I." The duke turned, leaning heavily on his cane. "Jameson, open the carriage door. We shall return to the house." Beth smiled up at Christian. "Shall we adjourn to the house to get some ointment for your hands and a bath, my love?" His eyes lit. "A bath?" Grandfather snorted. "Someone send to London for a special license! Now.”

LoveNeedsHandsEyeAgeChristianHouseDoorsSpecialReturnSmellLondonSmokeHis EyesGrandfatherLitLicenseBathsDukesCarriagesBeth
Author:Karen Hawkins
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