Sea
Glass Sunrise
The Brides of Blueberry Cove # 1
The Brides of Blueberry Cove # 1
By: Donna Kauffman
Releasing May 26, 2015
Zebra
Blurb
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”…
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/04/sea-glass-sunrise-brides-of-blueberry.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22859814-sea-glass-sunrise?ac=1 Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/137224-the-brides-of-blueberry-cove
She
didn’t see the pickup truck until it was too late.
One
second, she was glancing over at the tall shoots of summer lupines, in all
their purple, pink, and white stalks of glory, and—dammit—digging out another
chocolate-covered pretzel. The next, she was slamming her brakes and swerving
to miss the tail end of the big dark green dually that was suddenly somehow
passing right in front of her. She missed the truck’s rear bumper by a
hairbreadth, but the hand-painted sign on the far side of the intersection
advertising BEANIE’S FAT QUARTERS, THE BEST LITTLE QUILT SHOP IN BLUEBERRY
COVE! wasn’t so lucky.
It
all happened so fast, and yet each second seemed to be somehow elastic, as if
she could live a lifetime inside of every single heartbeat of the accident as
she was swerving through it. So many thoughts went through her mind as she
careened toward the sign she knew Beanie’s husband Carl had so proudly painted
for his wife when she’d opened up her little shop, what, fifteen years ago now?
Sixteen?
Hannah
had just graduated high school. Carl had done the town sign, too, right in his
adorable little potting she’d turned- art studio, touching the signs up like
new every spring after the winter season did its number on them. And yes, okay,
that made two good men, but Carl had gone to his great reward just last year,
so that left Logan as the only one still breathing.
So
many thoughts raced around inside Hannah’s brain in those weirdly elastic,
terrifying, life-threatening seconds. The things she should have said to Tim
during their final confrontation—on Christmas Eve, no less; that she should
have told Logan and her sisters what had happened; that she should have come
home for Christmas or the New Year, or both, and leaned on them instead of
shouldering the holidays and the six months that had elapsed since then alone.
That maybe she should have tried harder to make her newfound notoriety in the
Capitol Hill legal community work for her, that she still felt terribly guilty
for being involved with someone who was married to someone else, even if she
hadn’t known, and hating—hating—that she’d ultimately caved, quit, and come
running back home to the Cove with her humiliation tucked between her legs like
the tail of failure and shame that it was.
Then
Carl’s once-beautiful sign raced right up to the hood of her car and no amount
of further wheel yanking and swerving was going to save her from smashing right
into it. There was a small explosion as her air bag deployed, punching her in
the face and chest, just as her shoulder harness jerked her tightly against her
seat back. Her thoughts were yanked instantly back to the present as she plowed
straight into the stack of brightly colored plaid quilting squares painted on
the bottom corner of the sign. Sorry, Beanie, she thought inanely, along with
Shit, shit, shit! as she finally slid to a stop a mere speck of an inch before
hitting the cluster of tall ash trees that stood just behind the sign.
She
instinctively batted at the white, puffy bag, trying to keep it from smothering
her, as she struggled to regain clarity of thought. Her head was buzzing from
the adrenaline rush, her pulse was pounding in her ears, and her face hurt. A
lot. So did her shoulder. Then the driver’s-side door was being pulled open and
there was a man crouching next to her. At least, given the deep voice, she
assumed it was a man; she was still wrestling with the air bag.
“You
okay?” he asked, his voice all deep and dark and smoky in that bass vibrato
kind of way that sent shivers down a woman’s spine. Though, in all fairness,
her ears were ringing from the impact and she was pretty sure shock was setting
in, so it could have just been an aftereffect of the collision.
He
effortlessly collapsed the air bag with one broad palm. “Whoa, whoa,” he added
quickly, putting those broad, warm palms gently but firmly on her wrist and
shoulder when she tried to wrestle off her seat belt. “Let’s make sure you’re
okay before you move too much, all right?”
She
wanted to be the cool, competent, in-control— always in-control—attorney she
was. Not the exhausted, injured, bordering-on-hysterical idiot who stupidly and
blindly dated married men yet still got the shivers over a smoky, hot, sexy
voice. Sadly, the latter was the best she had to offer at the moment. “What . .
. happened?” she managed, her voice sounding oddly tight, bordering on shrill.
“Where did you come from?”
Author
Info
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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2 comments:
Thank you so much for hosting SEA GLASS SUNRISE!
Thanks so much for the spotlight on my latest release, Sea Glass Sunrise! :)
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