Who buys a cottage in a New England fishing village on a whim? A stressed-out, twice-divorced romance writer and single mother looking for a fresh start, that's who. Despite what my besties say about my three-year dry spell, I'm not looking for a man. Or drama. Or sex. I've got enough on my plate with writer's block and a daughter who refuses to grow up. Community. That's what I need. So why are all these random men suddenly drawn to me? Is there a shortage of women in Chatemup, Massachusetts? At least I've found one funny, good-hearted friend, fish peddler Declan Miller, my brainstorming adventure buddy who stirs my creative juices. I'm his writer girl. He's my dimple dude. Just scruffy, granite-chested, deep-voiced, ex-military brawn who happens to be--oh, Nicole, what are you doing to yourself?--stoking a long-neglected fire without even trying.

A self-confessed hot mess, divorced single dad Declan's too old for relationship games. Not interested. Same here. So why do I keep thinking about him? Preferably naked. Because I'm a hot mess, too? At least he's inspiring me to write. If only real life were like one of my novels. At least then I'd have a better idea of how this was going to end.