Sea Glass Sunrise
The Brides of Blueberry Cove # 1
The Brides of Blueberry Cove # 1
By: Donna Kauffman
Releasing May 26, 2015
Inside The Book:
In seaside Blueberry Cove, Maine, friends are just another word for family, and big-city politics take a backseat to local pride. But the real treasure on these shores is always love…
When D.C. lawyer Hannah McCrae heads home for her brother’s wedding, she’s dragging a lot of baggage along with her—and she doesn’t mean suitcases. Betrayed personally, and humiliated professionally, the last thing she wants is a new man. That’s fine with square-jawed, rugged contractor Calder Blue. He and Hannah may be wildly attracted to one another, but all he wants is to build the town’s hotly contested new yacht club and mend a centuries-old family feud. Yet thanks to resentments old and new, day after day the pair wind up tangled in each other’s business—and maybe soon in each other’s arms.
Every bride needs something “blue”…
She gathered up the skirt, which was voluminous, revealing what looked a lot like brightly flowered . . . were those rubber garden boots? Oh, why the hell not? Then left her car door hanging open into the roadway as she rushed toward the banged-up sports car.
“Hannah!” she cried as she ran toward the driver’s-side door. “Hannah? Oh my God, are you okay?”
Hannah. The name sounded a lot more down-to-earth than suited the woman still strapped into the Audi. She looked more like a Danielle or Blair, or some private club name like Sloan or—or Tenley. He immediately shut out thoughts of his ex and stepped around the front of the car.
“She’s okay,” he said, “but she needs a tow, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to have a paramedic take a look at her.”
Prom Queen of the Walking Dead jerked back in surprise at the sound of his voice, then instantly spun on him.
“Did you do this?” she demanded. “Did you run her off the road?” She stalked toward him, which, despite her small frame, was scarier than it should be, mostly due to the getup she had on. Mostly.
She stuck her hand out. “Insurance information? License?”
She lowered her hand before he could give her anything, not that he’d planned to, and patted her hips and middle, then swore. “Stupid dress. No pockets. Wait right here while I get something to write with,” she told him, finger in his face, which was when he noticed the god-awful green lace gloves she was wearing. “And on,” she added.
“No need,” he told her as she spun on her rubber-booted heel, making her spin right back again, then reach up to grab the tiara—how on earth had he missed that?—that swung precariously from the wilds of her dark hair to dip over one side of her forehead.
“You already gave that to her? Well . . . good. That’s good. What happened? Have you been drinking?” She tried to remove the tiara, but it was hopelessly stuck in her hair.
He started to reach out to help her, then thought better of it. He worked with his hands for a living, so probably better not to give her a chance to bite them off. “Your friend ran the stop sign,” he said calmly. “She swerved to keep from hitting me—and she didn’t hit me, by the way—only the sign there wasn’t so lucky.”
“She’s not my friend, she’s my sister. Well, we’re friends, too. I mean, we’re close, not geographically, but—wait, she ran the stop sign? What stop sign? That intersection doesn’t have—” Prom Queen whirled around, almost sending the drunken tiara flying.
Calder sighed and pointed. “Unless I’m hallucinating, and at the moment I’m not entirely confident in saying I’m not,” he added, “it does. Four of them, in fact.”
“I was born here and I can absolutely guarantee you that—” Her shoulders slumped as she looked at the intersection. “Hunh. What do you know? When the hell did they do that? And why? This town barely has enough traffic to warrant the single traffic light we do have, and that’s in the heart of it, much less a four-way stop on the outskirts.”
“I couldn’t say. I was just going to call nine-one-one and ask a recommendation on a tow truck from whoever answered.”
“Sal’s,” she said, without glancing at him. “I’ll call him. I’ll call my brother, too. He’ll send Bonnie over.”
She looked back at him now. “The paramedic.” She said Sit as if he were dense, or a little slow. “My brother is the police chief.”
Of course he is. Calder began to realize that any hope he had of making the meeting with his great-uncle anywhere close to on time was already lost. And that was a problem.
A big one. But life happened. Hell, wasn’t that how he’d ended up in Blueberry Cove in the first place?
“Don’t call Logan.”
Calder and Prom Queen both turned to find Hannah standing behind them, one hand braced on the roof of the sports car. She didn’t look too steady on her feet and he was already moving toward her before he realized it.
“His wedding is this weekend,” Hannah said, looking oddly regal despite the banged-up face and messed-up shirt. Maybe it was the still-perfect hair, or the too-straight set to her shoulders. “He doesn’t need—”
“Oh God, Hannah,” her sister cried, rushing past him to Hannah’s side. “You’re bleeding!”
USA Today bestselling author of the Cupcake Club Romance series, Donna Kauffman has seen her books reviewed in venues ranging from Kirkus Reviews and Library Journal to Entertainment Weekly and Cosmopolitan. She lives just outside of DC in the lovely Virginia countryside, where she is presently trying to makeover her newly empty nest into something that doesn’t have to accommodate piles of sports equipment falling out of her coat closet (okay, out of every closet...and under every bed....), size 13 cleats and sweaty uniforms cluttering her foyer (and stairwell, and laundry room, and...), and a kitchen that should have come with a traffic light. And a pantry monitor. (Anyone with a clever idea on how to repurpose lacrosse sticks into matching reading lamps, she’s all ears!) When she’s not stripping paint, varnishing an old auction house find, or trying to avoid bodily injury with her latest power tool purchase, she loves to hear from readers!
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