Title: Knight’s Captive
Author: Samantha Holt
Expected Publication Date: July 16, 2015
SYNOPSIS
Queen
Elizabeth sits on England’s throne. A once Catholic country is now
ruled by a Protestant queen. In a time of fear, turmoil and bold
deeds, many heroes are seldom written into history...
After
aiding in the capture of the flagship Rosario and helping to defeat
the Spanish Armada, Sir Henry Bainbridge is set to make his mark on
the world and strengthen his position as a man of authority. Now in
charge of the Spanish prisoners, Henry must negotiate their return to
Spain and manage the care of his people.
However,
when he comes across a woman amongst the survivors, his future plans
are put on hold. The exotic beauty draws him in and his honour will
not let him doing anything other than protect her. Henry takes her
into his home and places her under house arrest. He can only hope his
principles are enough to protect her from his desires...
In a
time when small differences spark fear into the heart of many,
Antonia finds herself drawn into a battle between a zealous priest, a
discontented population and the most honourable man she’s ever met.
Nothing can ever come of their attraction, not while he’s holding
her father prisoner and not when so many differences divide them.
Or can
it?
PRE-ORDER LINKS
EXCERPT
The
ship seemed to come apart beneath his feet. It propelled him forward
and he snatched whatever part of Antonia he could grab to haul her
close. His fingers met a bunch of fabric, and he yanked her to him
and drew her to her feet. She tried to get away again but he was
prepared this time and wrapped his arms about her.
“We
need to get off.”
She
shook her head. “My father!”
Smoke
was beginning to rise out of the hull. Men poured onto the deck, but
he couldn’t see her father. His men frantically ushered them over
the side of the ship to the waiting boats. He stepped around the
steadily growing cracks in the wood and grimaced as the mast swayed
and creaked. The ship didn’t have long.
He
shoved Antonia into Will’s arms. “Ensure she gets into a boat.”
He turned his attention to the dark-eyed woman. “I’ll get your
father.”
She
nodded, her lips pulled into a tight line of fear. Henry turned away
before he could regret his decision. Will would see her to safety.
The gut-sickening sound of men’s cries sliced through him, like a
baby’s wail calling to its mother. It wasn’t the first time he’d
heard sounds like that, and yet it still made him stiffen and
determination burned in his belly. He’d been tasked with capturing
these Spanish and he’d damn well do it. None would burn or drown on
his watch.
Henry
raced down the stairs and covered his mouth with his arm. Smoke made
his eyes water. Ghostly creaks rattled through the ship. She was
taking on water though it hadn’t reached the deck below. He could
hear the sea swallowing her, drawing her down to her doom. But the
fire hadn’t been doused. Heat touched his skin and he suspected
that not far beneath him could be a raging inferno.
Several
men pushed past him—his own men. He peered into the gloom and
stalked past the canons. The ship gave another shuddering moan and
tilted aft. He gripped some rope hanging from the roof and forged
forward.
“De
Valdés!” he called, almost choking on a lungful of acrid smoke.
When he neared the galley, he paused. Over the sound of the
foundering ship, a cry for help reached his ears. He pivoted and
raced to the fore, narrowly avoiding tripping over loose shot and
ropes. There, near the front, was Antonia’s father—pinned by a
strut of wood that must have fallen from the roof.
When
he peered closer, he noted de Valdés wasn’t the only one caught. A
young officer had also become trapped. Henry grimaced. He didn’t
look alive.
Henry
wasted no time in gripping the plank at one end and dragging it from
the commander, wincing from the effort. His muscles pulled in
protest, his lungs burned with exertion and smoke inhalation. He cast
it aside and did a cursory inspection of the lad. Dead, for certain.
“Can
you walk?” he called to the older man.
He
nodded, dragged himself to his feet and propped himself against the
rear wall. Even in the gloom, pain dug deep grooves in his features.
Henry suspected a broken leg. God’s teeth, they didn’t have time
for this. He snatched the man’s arm, flung it over his shoulder and
they made their way all too slowly to the stairs.
A
moan rumbled through the ship. She tilted farther, heeding their
progress yet more. He practically dragged the commander up the steps
and they both took a moment to swallow gulps of fresh air. Henry
surveyed the deck and saw most had abandoned ship.
Except...damn
her. He passed her father over to Will. “A broken leg,” he
shouted. “You’ll have to lower him down. As soon as he’s in,
abandon ship.”
Antonia
was already hurrying to his side from the quarter deck but before she
reached them, a crack splintered the air. Henry’s skin prickled. He
glanced up and saw the middle mast sway. The ship was now at an
angle—slightly back, slightly to one side. The mast began to tilt
that way too and as it went, it ripped the quarter deck with it,
sending Antonia sprawling. He half-expected her to be swallowed into
the bowels of the ship before he stormed up the stairs to her side,
but he reached her before the mast fell.
As
the deck splintered into what seemed like a hundred pieces, he
snatched his arms around her and dragged her onto the main deck. The
ship spit up shards of wood around them. She wasn’t going down
without a fight, but she seemed determined to take them with her.
Henry glanced back to see Will and de Valdés were gone. He tightened
his grip on Antonia and wrapped a hand around the railing. They’d
be lucky to make it to the longboats waiting in the water. “We need
to jump.”
“No.
My father.”
“He’s
safe.” Henry had no way of knowing that, but he wouldn’t have
this woman on the ship any longer. “Can you swim?”
She
nodded.
He
helped her up onto the railing. Her body trembled beneath his palms.
“Jump now.” His world tilted further. “Jump!”
She
flew over the edge, her hair streaming out behind her. He couldn’t
hear the splash as he tore off his doublet and undid his belt. He
flung both aside, regretting that he’d lose his blade. That had
been a fine blade. Clambering onto the side, he took a breath and
dove.
AUTHOR BIO
Samantha
lives in a small village in England with her gorgeous twin girls. She
enjoys writing historical romance involving chivalrous knights, hot
highlanders and cravatted men, but sometimes gets lured away by bad
boy bikers, soldiers and other heroic modern men.
