The Alaskan Catch
Where life's currents take you…Dana Raynott just traveled 3,600 miles to reunite with the brother who changed his name and fled to Alaska nineteen years ago. It’s impossible not to be moved by this wild, breathtaking country, even if Dana’s no closer to finding the answers she came here for.Her brother’s best friend, Anchorage engineer Sam MacKettrick, might be able to help her. He's strong and kind—a six-foot, irresistible blend of diverse cultures. He’s also haunted by a tragic family history with a startling connection to Dana’s past…
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Where lifeâs currents take youâ¦
Dana Raynott just traveled 3,600 miles to reunite with the brother who changed his name and fled to Alaska nineteen years ago. Itâs impossible not to be moved by this wild, breathtaking state, even if Danaâs no closer to finding the answers she came here for.
Her brotherâs best friend, Anchorage engineer Sam MacKettrick, might be able to help her. Heâs strong and kindâa six-foot, irresistible blend of diverse cultures. Heâs also haunted by a tragic family history with a startling connection to Danaâs past...
Sam met her eyes. âIâve never brought anyone here before.â
Dana reached for his hand. âIâm honored.â
He held her gaze for a long moment before he stepped closer and slowly lowered his head. Her lips parted in a tiny gasp just before he pressed his mouth against hers. She closed her eyes and let her entire focus shift to the sensation of their lips meeting. His hands settled on her waist; her arms reached up around his neck. She pushed her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him closer. He responded, tilting his head and deepening the kiss.
He didnât rush, simply kissed her as though it was the one and only purpose of his life. Dana had dated a few other men, and yet somehow sheâd never truly been kissed.
Not like this.
Welcome to Anchorage. Iâm thrilled to be able to share my hometown with you in my very first Harlequin, The Alaskan Catch. Itâs the first story in my Northern Lights series, all about life and love in Alaska.
Anchorage is the kind of city where you can dine on grilled king salmon with béarnaise sauce prepared by a master chef or catch your own salmon in one of the creeks that run through the cityâmaybe on the same day. This mix of wild and refined is one of the reasons people fall in love with the place. A story Iâve heard over and over is âI came to Alaska for a summer and I never left.â They found home.
I wanted to capture that feeling in this story. Dana, the heroine, has been the glue holding her family together, especially since her brotherâs unexplained departure nineteen years ago. After her fatherâs death, she heads to Alaska to find her brother and get some answers.
But pinning her brother down is more complicated than she anticipated. While sheâs waiting, his roommate, Sam, shows up and takes charge. When Sam shares his favorite wild Alaskan places with her, Dana discovers an adventurous streak she never knew she had. And with Sam, she feels confident enough to let it out, knowing sheâll treasure these memories once she returns home. Only her heart isnât sure where home is anymore.
If you enjoy The Alaskan Catch, keep an eye out for the next Northern Lights novel, coming this Christmas.
Happy reading!
Beth Carpenter
BETH CARPENTER is thankful for good books, a good dog, a good man and a dream job creating happily-ever-afters. She and her husband now split their time between Alaska and Arizona, where she occasionally encounters a moose in the yard or a scorpion in the basement. She prefers the moose.
To my mother. For all those Scholastic books you let me order, all the trips to the library, all the years of unwavering support and so much more...thank you.
Contents
NOT AN IGLOO in sight. Dana wasnât sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Somehow sheâd expected...maybe not an igloo, but something more exotic than the sage-green split-level at the end of a cul-de-sac. Only the dense spruce forest behind the house and towering mountains in the background hinted she wasnât in Kansas anymore. That and the salmon-shaped mailbox across the street.
The house number matched the address the private investigator employed by the estate had given her. This was it. She paid the taxi driver, collected her suitcase, climbed the three steps to the porch and stood there, staring at the doorbell. Nineteen years. Fifty-four percent of her life. A lot could change in nineteen years, although apparently not her brotherâs taste in vehicles. The battered blue pickup in the driveway wasnât too different from the one heâd been in the last time she saw him, through the crack in her bedroom curtains. She could still picture Dad scowling in the driveway, his arms folded across his chest, while Chris burned rubber and burned bridges, roaring out of their lives.
How would Chris react after all this time? Clearly, he had no overwhelming desire to see her. He could have gotten in touch with her anytime, right where he left her all those years ago. She wasnât the one who ran away to Alaska, who changed her name. Who obviously didnât want to be found.
