Cappy men are said to be fiercely determined, ambitious but patient, hardworking, independent (to the point of lone wolf, in some instances), practical, down-to-earth, steadfast and loyal and possessed of a finely honed sense of responsibility. Afraid of failure, they never give up on something. But they tend to build walls around themselves. All of which describes HER CAPTAIN’s hero, Slate Claybourne, a former Navy SEAL, to a T! He’s all of the above and more! He’s also as secretly and hotly passionate as the Capricorn’s birthstone, the wine-red garnet.
Famous Caps include Elvis Presley, Martin Luther King, Jr.; Eddie Vedder, Kevin Costner, Alexander Hamilton, LeBron James, L.L. Cool J, Matt Lauer, Rod Stewart, Moliere, Robert E. Lee, Ben Franklin, Marilyn Manson, Howard Stern, Jude Law, Isaac Newton and other famous writers, musicians, scientist and celebrities.
Slate’s perfect foil is the heroine of HER CAPTAIN, Holly Harper, a feisty, impulsive, ultra-spontaneous Aries, who enjoys coming up with schemes more than seeing her projects to fruition. Except when it comes to Slate, that is! She sets her mind of having him and nothing will get in her way! The birthstone for the Aries is the diamond, and Holly is as brilliant and sparkling as the gem. She’s everything Slate needs – and never knew he wanted.
They may be incompatible signs, but together they’re combustible and explosive, two halves of a whole.
Capricorn Slate Claybourne, a former SEAL and sniper who has seen and done things in country no man should endure, returns to his bucolic hometown on Pieberry Island, desperate for the mundane, everyday routines he once wanted to escape.
A broken, soul-dead man unable to be around people, his body still a lethal weapon when his night terrors wake him from sleep, Slate’s failed to keep the promise he made to the commander who died in his arms: to look after the older man’s baby girl.
But animated Aries Holly Harper is not the pigtailed tot Slate expected her to be when she lands on the island to take over the decrepit Pieberry House, determined to turn it into an inn for summer tourists…and even more determined to yank Slate back into the land of the living.
First she crashes into him at the island’s Winter Festival, dumping a towering stack of pies at his feet, then she drags him off to a fortune teller against his better judgment.
Except for the sizzling attraction smoldering between them, they’re incompatible in every way.
But when a furious December nor’easter traps them together at Pieberry House, will Slate and Holly overcome their pasts and discover they are two halves of a whole?
AUTHOR’S NOTE: HER CAPTAIN was published and release by Fated Desires Publishing a few weeks ago, on December 15, 2015. Soon after, FD authors received word that FD would be closing its doors at the end of January, 2016, and all its books will be coming off the e-shelves. So there may be a period of time (and I’m not sure how long at this point) when HER CAPTAIN will not be available. It will be re-released with a new cover. Right now it’s available at:
“Jesus. You really have no boundaries, do you?” He raked her with a glare and rested the cartons on the hood of a nearby car, then brushed a hand through his disheveled hair. His attempt to restore some semblance of order failed miserably when a wayward lock flopped over his forehead. Growling, he flipped the stray curl away with an irritated gesture.
“I think not,” she responded. “I’m never going to have them where you’re concerned.” “We’ve just met, Holly.”
“But I don’t feel like we’re strangers, really. Didn’t my dad ever mention me? He talked about you. Besides, I’m an Aries. Get used to it.”
With his now-straggled hair and a puzzled air reorganizing his features, he appeared almost boyish, or might have, if it hadn’t been for the wave of pure, unadulterated lust smacking her like a two-by-four every time she gazed at him.
“You have no idea what Aries is, do you?” “It’s a constellation. I’m a sailor.”
“It’s also a zodiac sign. You know, like in horoscopes? And it’s not actually aligned with the constellation anymore because of the way the equinoxes have caused a shift.”
His eyes glazed over a little.
“Aries are impulsive, impetuous, impatient, and daring,” she nattered on, surprised at her breathlessness, but not her need to babble. “I’m guessing that’s everything you’re not.”
He frowned. “I can be impatient,” he said, as if that was a good thing. The look he shot her indicated his nerves might, in fact, be wearing a little thin at the present moment.
“And I suspect, given your last employment, daring, too.”
“Maybe that,” he conceded. “Not by inclination or choice.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m a lobsterman now. And I run the ferry when needed.”
“But still mainly serious, driven, hard-working, and wise, fiercely loyal, tough, and unapproachable on the outside but with a soft, warm, and squishy nougat center. I have you pegged for a total Capricorn. I bet you’re a secret romantic at heart, although you never show the world that side. When’s your birthday?”
“Do we have to play this idiotic game?”
“We do. And it’s not idiotic. You’d be surprised how telling astrology can be. Was I wrong about you?”
“Well…” He paused, and the silence between them lengthened.
“I’ll take that as a no.” She grinned at him.
“All right.” Again he said nothing more, and she wanted to shake him until a confession fell out of his mouth.
“Chatty, too.” She tapped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest, drawing his gaze to her breasts. But he still didn’t take the hint. She groaned. Such a man. “Eyes up, sailor.” She flicked a finger in the vicinity of his chin until he raised his focus. “Birthday?” she demanded again.
“In a couple of weeks,” he said at last, the admission apparently so difficult it might have been wrung from him on pain of torture.
She snapped her fingers. “Knew it. Do I have you sussed or not?” “Do you?”
“I mean, we’re completely incompatible. Like oil and water. The tortoise and the hare.”
He shot her another incendiary look, and then glanced at the exit as if contemplating how fast he could make his getaway.
“Oh, wait. So I ruffled your feathers a little, and you’re not going to help me now?”
Instead of replying, he seized her fiercely by the arm and spun her around, dragging her into him until he’d caught her up against his rock-hard chest. Then his mouth came down on hers, hard, harsh, and demanding. Giving absolutely no quarter. Shocking her into utter and complete silence.
Whoa! I thought this man lacked spontaneity? Holy simmering cinnamon buns!