He's all wrong for Lobster Cove...

Branson Cudahy is as southern as it gets, a cyber crime investigator from happily-landlocked Lexington, Kentucky. He has been chasing a hacker for three years, and now the trail has led him to Lobster Cove, Maine...which is a real problem for a guy with a shellfish allergy.

Jenna Sanborn waits tables to pay the bills, but she dreams of opening a quilt shop in the heart of town. She’d never even think of leaving Lobster Cove, but the handsome newcomer is tempting beyond her wildest imaginings.

Bran and Jenna never expect the whirlwind romance that comes out of their meeting. As hard as they fight to control their feelings, their hearts are fighting to push them over that dizzying lover’s leap. Will love win out, or will the hacker—and their dreams—slip the net?

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excerpt:

He released the orange then pivoted to gaze down the street. He had a stare like a hawk, surveying everything, but clearly on the lookout for something particular as he swept the passersby. Jenna wondered what wheels were turning in his head. Then she wondered what “business” had brought him to town. “Did you find the police station all right?” Nosy, she scolded herself as soon as the words left her mouth.

He didn’t seem to mind. “Yeah, thanks. Listen, since I’m new in town, I could use a few tips on where to go and what’s good to do. Can I grab you a coffee?”

Flustered again, she gestured at her grocery cart. “Milk. Ice cream. Frozen vegetables.”

“Not a stalker,” he said, “I promise.”

“I didn’t think that.”

“Yeah, you did. It’s okay.” He smiled. “Best coffee in town?”

“Sang Freud,” she said automatically. “Up the street on the left.” She grinned. “It’s hard to get lost here. There’s not much town.”

“All right, Jenna,” he said. “Tell you what. I’m gonna be there about four o’clock. If you want to meet me there and talk Lobster Cove, I’ll be all ears. If not, no pressure.”

She giggled. Giggled. Like a teenager going to her first concert with a cute boy. Mortified, and now convinced that her cheeks were as red as a stop sign, she backed away. “I’ll keep it in mind. See you later, Mister Cudahy.”

His grin sent a flutter through her midsection. “Bran.”


“Okay. Bran.” She waved goodbye, then hurried off down the street with her groceries and would-be-truant oranges.


As she walked, she sensed his gaze on her, and she beamed, flattered and flustered, and for once, feeling beautiful.

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