Back in 2016, I was deeply moved by The Girl Who Fell by a Shannon M. Parker, contemporary young adult novel that poignantly and powerfully explored the subject of domestic violence, my thoughts on which you can read in-depth here. You may therefore be able to imagine my delight and excitement when Shannon recently reached out to me and I learned she has written a new contemporary novel for adults, Love & Lobsters, which is publishing today! Kirkus Reviews described Love & Lobsters as “A heart-skipping small-town love story with tight pacing, captivating prose, and memorable characters.”
I’m thrilled to be able to help Shannon celebrate the release of her new book and honoured to share not only an exclusive excerpt from the novel but also the opportunity for one lucky reader to win an INCREDIBLE prize package complete with a signed copy of the book as well as many amazing prizes! Please scroll down to learn all about Love & Lobsters and don’t forget to enter the giveaway!
Title Love & Lobsters
Author Shannon M. Parker
Intended Target Audience Adult
Genre Contemporary, Realistic Fiction, Romance
Publication Date October 1st 2024 by Riveter
Find It On Goodreads ● Amazon ● Blackwell’s ● Barnes & Noble ● IndieBound
Female lobsterman Charlie Pinkham is content with her seaside life in Christmas Cove, Maine.
Single and surrounded by friends and community, Charlie has always been more comfortable braving the bold Atlantic rather than diving into the messy business of romance. When she writes a post for her bestie’s Happily Ever Holidays blog, Charlie’s decidedly unromantic piece goes viral. Readers connect with lobster behavior, and how they’re hardwired to protect themselves from their own species — a trait Charlie respects.
Because love hurts.
Still, she can’t quell her growing interest in Logan, the mysterious and definitely unavailable man renting her family’s lighthouse for the month of December. Charlie looks for distraction by DMing a stranger online, and organizing Christmas Cove’s first annual holiday festival.
But as her Love & Lobsters posts explore the ways lobsters display trust, commitment, mating rituals, and sexy time, Charlie must decide if plunging into uncharted waters is worth the risk.
I love exactly two people. My Mem (rhymes with gem) who has shown up for me as father, mother, grandparent, and guide all at once, all my life. And my bestie, our destinies aligning in a kindergarten classroom. If you knew me, you’d already know I’m the least likely person to write a romance-inspired Happily Ever Holidays column. You’d also know the disappointing news doesn’t stop there. See, unlike other — far more appropriate — contributors to this annual series, I am not famous. And I’m not fabulous. I’m barely even interesting on a good day. I’m a female lobster fisherman, and my Happily Ever After comes in the shape of the two previously-mentioned humans. Two people who feel fully, wholly, superbly mine. And this makes me lucky enough.
I’ve never felt the need for more. No partner. No “better” half. No soulmate. I’m already buoyed by my grandmother who has lived a selfless life endlessly assisting the families of fishermen who are hurt or lost at sea, like my dad, her son. And, then there’s my bestie. My most perfect human who never fails to radio me every time my boat returns from sea, her voice a safe harbor and beacon all at once. She’s the reason my words are interrupting your life right now. She is your fearless editor. Blame her. Because I won’t be writing about love.
Not the romantic kind.
Not the happy, head-over-heels, squee-filled kind.
Or even the human kind, really.
I can’t. I’m not even sure I believe in dreamy love or Happily Ever Afters. (See? Worst holiday romance column ever.) But if you’re still reading this terrible holiday essay on not-love, consider this: I’m writing this terrible essay on not-love from Christmas Cove, Maine, a place where a river meets the sea, and the sea greets the horizon. It is a place of eternal blue, where time and tides are fearless. And here, in this frothing world of life and light, I have unending freedom. Most days I work my boat alone in the slip of space between sky and sea. I take my time. Or rush. Haul or don’t haul. Stay close to shore or travel to the deep. I’m good at my job, efficient at my tasks.
And I don’t just catch lobsters; I study their behaviors, paying attention to their habits, how they survive, and how they thrive. Because being a successful lobsterman depends on keeping the oceans healthy for generations to come. And for future generations of lobsters to arrive, they need to mate first.
This is (maybe) where it gets interesting. Or (maybe) even romantic. Because underneath the slate sea, lobsters are resourceful and enduring, and spend a lot of energy on the sexy time. The American lobster engages in complex mating rituals involving seduction, arguments, and total trust. On any given day, lobsters know way more about romantic love than I do.
If I haven’t disappointed you enough, let me share this final, fun fact: lobsters don’t mate for life. Nope. Not a thing. I know. I know. Nineties kids’ hearts are breaking all over the place, but it’s true. Even though tourist spots throughout Maine will sell you cards with “You’re My Lobster!” in cutesy font, or wedding cake toppers with two lobsters attached at the claw, the reality is much less adorable, far less marketable: if two lobsters are trapped together long enough, the large lobster will eat the smaller one. Every time.
My goal is never to be the smaller lobster. Or the bigger one for that matter.
It feels important to share that lobsters don’t lean cannibalistic in the wild. That said, the scent of blood can inspire eating a friend. (Note to reader: choose friends carefully). But here’s the thing: lobsters don’t bleed often because they’re biologically designed to self-amputate seriously-injured sections of their bodies, shedding the wounded part of their frames to save their whole being. That’s some serious commitment to self-preservation.
In the very depths of their DNA, lobsters are hardwired to protect themselves from their own species — and this has always made sense to me.
Because love hurts.
Crushes, too.
And in the human world, I’ve never had to look far to catch sight of a relationship where one person was being consumed by the other.
Despite all this, we’re fed a steady diet of starry-eyed stories about romantic love. Particularly now, when the holidays sweep under us, strong as a current. We decorate with white lights in an attempt to dazzle the long darkness out of shortened days. Marketing firms, books, and entire television networks try to sell us the idea that Happily Ever After can only be achieved by finding a perfect mate.
My simple life at sea reminds me to pay attention to the Happily Ever Now so many of us have with people we hold dear. Sisters. Friends. Neighbors. Mentors. They love us now. They already know we’re enough. More than enough.
And isn’t that enough?
Because if the glorious people around us can love us as fiercely as they do, then we must be great. And maybe it’s a nice twist on Happily Ever Afters to indulge in a little self-love. Because self-love has never made me feel trapped.
Self-love doesn’t ask me to shed or sacrifice parts of myself. Self-love endures. It’s here now and forever, and all the days in between.
Shannon is offering an absolutely incredible Love & Lobsters-themed gift package to one lucky reader! This gift package will include:
● Signed copy of Love & Lobsters
● Jute tote with lovable lobsters
● Two lobster chowder mugs
● Six chocolate bars from Reny’s: A Maine Adventure
● Wooden buoy
● Lobster plushie
● Lemongrass scented “breathe” candle
● Blue Lobster coffee beans
● Blue lobster tree ornament with “Seas the Day” charm
This contest will run for one month from October 1st-November 15th after which a winner will be chosen at random. This giveaway is open to residents of the US and Canada. No purchase necessary. Good luck!
Shannon M. Parker
Shannon M. Parker is an author and educator. She holds degrees in English Literature, Linguistics, and Educational Leadership from Saint Michael’s College, UMass Boston, and University of Southern Maine respectively. She currently attends Harvard University and lives in New England with her family.
Does our hard shell protect us from getting hurt, or prevent us from finding our 1 in 100 million? As Charlie wrestles with this question, she (begrudgingly) blogs about lobsters to make sense of her inability to trust in romantic love.
