Magic of Books Promotions' Books Blog: Fisher of Men by Phoebe Alexander

Author: Phoebe Alexander

Publisher: Mountains Wanted Publishing

383 pages, 105K words

Released 6-5-14

Genre: erotic romance

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Exclusively on Amazon!!

http://amzn.to/1GTQW8S

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Leah Miller's eyes are opened to a whole new world by Chris Sheldon, a

charter fishing captain in Ocean City, Maryland. Despite her best

efforts not to fall for Cap, his charm and rugged good looks are too

hard to resist. But what happens when his lifestyle conflicts with her

faith? Is there any way he'd give up the lifestyle he loves for the

woman who has stolen his heart?

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“I had forgotten all about the message to be honest. I only read it
briefly on my way here. And, actually, Leah,” he said, his voice deep
and creased with seriousness, “I would love an opportunity to sit down
with you and explain all of that stuff.”

“All what stuff?” Leah played innocent. She wanted to know if he'd
drop the S word again so freely, especially now that he was sober.

He cleared his throat and lowered his voice to about half-volume, “You
know, the swinging stuff. I think we should talk about it.” His
expression was hopeful but his tone betrayed his suspicion that she
would not agree to his request.

She decided to hold him in suspense a little while longer. “That
dating site is...wow!” she changed the subject. “I knew there was a
dearth of eligible bachelors in the area, but I had no idea the
pickings were really that slim!” She erupted with a crystalline laugh,
the kind of melodic sound she'd wanted to make the last time she'd
seen him. I'm not sure where this confidence is coming from, she
suddenly thought, looking into his captivated eyes. Aimee said I
didn't know how to talk to men but I'm pretty sure I'm proving her
wrong!

“I see,” he replied neutrally. He ran his fingers through his
blonde-streaked hair which appeared perpetually wind-tousled. He was
wearing faded jeans, thick work boots and a flannel jacket with the
sleeves rolled up to show his strong, well-defined forearms. She drank
in the image of him and suddenly realized that his rugged good looks
were more representative of the men back in Wahoo, Nebraska, than any
she regularly encountered during her college years or time in her
career. She never thought she'd be the kind of girl who went for the
über-masculine type but she undeniably felt something within her body
tingling as she basked in his presence. At 5'9” she was a tall woman
and although she had an average build, she was far from skinny. She'd
always dated slim men around the same height as her. Looking up from
her desk at Cap with his hulking, 6'2” frame, she began to imagine how
soft and small and feminine she might feel in his arms.

She helplessly stared, unable to divert her gaze, all the while
wondering what he thought when he looked at her. Is he seeing some
innocent young thing he wants to bed out of curiosity, out of novelty?
Or does he see me as a smart, attractive woman who is mature beyond
her years, someone he's intrigued by and wants to get to know on
multiple levels? I really have no interest in fulfilling his curiosity
if his motive is the former. She felt her body stiffen with resolve.
She sat up straight in her chair and leaned toward him with her elbows
on her desk: “So, I guess I should take you up on that offer for
coffee, then?”

His eyes had not wavered from hers; they still had missile lock on her
thickly-lashed green orbs. “Coffee,” he said emphatically, one dimple
peeping through his beard, “no.”

She shook her head, confused by what had just happened. Did he just
say no to me? Is it retribution for me declining his invitation
before? What the heck? She cycled through a hundred questions in the
split second it took him to explain: “Not coffee. I'm thinking dinner.
Come to dinner with me,” he implored.

Her lips spread into a smile, the breadth of which she could not seem
to control. “Dinner? Sure, okay, I can do that.”

“Tonight?” Cap pressed.

He is so darn persuasive with those dimples and sincere-looking blue
eyes, she thought. God help me. “Okay,” she agreed, against her better
judgment.

“I'll pick you up. Seven o'clock.” It was a statement, not a question.

“You can pick me up at seven here, yes,” she confirmed.

His cool assertiveness forcibly gave way to a huge grin, the reaction
beyond his control. His face was awash with victory as a single word
passed through his parted lips: “Perfect.”



~Copyright 2014 Phoebe Alexander All Rights Reserved