The Captain and the Baker
When a hot-tempered TV chef and a mild-mannered baker meet on the rugged
Cornish coast, they’ve got the perfect ingredients for a red-hot snack.
Sweary and stressed celebrity chef Jake Brantham is the captain of
several floating restaurants. When he’s sent to the idyllic village of
Porthavel to turn a pirate ship into the next gastronomic sensation, it’s the
last place on earth he wants to be.
Locryn Trevorrow is the bakery king of Cornwall. From the humble pasty
to a wedding cake fit for a mermaid queen, there’s nothing he doesn’t know
about the art of baking. He lives in a cosy world of gingham and ganache, but
at night he goes home to his smugglers’ cottage alone.
When he’s adopted by a lost kitten, Jake soon discovers that there’s
more to Portavel than cream teas, lobster pots, and the annoyingly fastidious
Locryn. As the village prepares for the wedding of its favourite young couple,
Jake and Locryn find themselves as unlikely matchmakers for two locals who’d
given up on love.
Torn between the call of Hollywood and the kisses of Locryn, will Jake
choose a mansion in Beverly Hills or a cottage on the Cornish coast?
Released worldwide by Pride Publishing in ebook and paperback
on 25th August 2020
Links
Pride: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/the-captain-and-the-baker
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54451031-the-captain-and-the-baker?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=MYrODKpIKo&rank=1
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08C8YPTB7
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08C8YPTB7
About
the Authors
Catherine
Curzon and Eleanor
Harkstead began writing together in the spring of 2017 and swiftly
discovered a shared love of sauce, well-dressed gents and a uniquely British
sort of romance. They drink gallons of tea, spend hours discussing the importance
of good tailoring and are never at a loss for a double entendre.
They
are the authors of numerous short stories and two novel series, the de
Chastelaine Chronicles, and the Captivating Captains,
published by Totally Bound and Pride. Their novel The Ghost
Garden has been shortlisted for the 2020 Romantic Novel Awards.
Extract
Jake,
immaculate in his chef whites but his hair just ruffled enough to look
careless, tried to smile into the television camera.
There
wasn’t much to smile about because, although the set of Saturday
Breakfast was more than familiar to him, he hadn’t had to share it
with Locryn Trevorrow before.
Locryn,
as sugary sweet as the cakes and delicacies he baked, was as far as it was
possible to be from Jake, a chef who’d made a name for himself swearing on the
telly while cooking. As he had watched Locryn across the studio that morning,
all smiles and sunshine and please and thank you and how
marvelous, he couldn’t imagine the man had ever sworn in his life. He’d
probably draw the line at fiddlesticks.
“And
now it’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for!” Katya, the host of the show,
beamed, showing dazzling white teeth. “Our search for a bride and groom ends
today with our very last couple, so get on the phones and get voting! You all
know the rules by now. We’ve scoured the country and, out of thousands of
applicants, we’ve found three couples who are competing for the chance to hold
their wedding at Jake Brantham’s brand-new restaurant. The twist is, even Jake
doesn’t know where that will be! All he knows is that it’ll be in the hometown
of our winning couple and we’ll watch it all happen in his new series, From
Wreck to Restaurant!”
The
camera cut away to Jake, who pulled his best theatrical glower. The one all his
fans went crazy for.
“Each
week we’ve invited a couple onto Saturday Breakfast and paired
them with a chef from their town, who’s been challenged by Jake to cook one of
his signature dishes. Our last couple are Zoe and David, from the gorgeous
little village of Porthavel, and they’re joined by Britain’s favorite and
loveliest baker, Locryn Trevorrow!” Across the studio crew, a loud smattering
of applause sounded, which Locryn dismissed with a bashful wave of his hand. “We
sent our intrepid crew off to meet Zoe and David at home in Cornwall, so let’s
take a look at life in one of Britain’s cutest fishing villages.”
The
floor manager called, “And we’re off.”
A
makeup artist dashed onto the set and immediately began dusting at Katya’s
face. Standing behind the worktop where he would soon do battle with Jake’s
recipe, Locryn called to Jake, “Morning! We haven’t had a chance to meet yet,
so hello!”
Plummy wasn’t the word
for it. Jake had wondered if that voice was a put-on for the cameras, but it
didn’t sound like it. Did that mean the cottage in the opening titles of Trevorrow
Treats was real too, right down to the roses around the door and the
goats on the front lawn, grazing the grass that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean
on Cornwall’s south coast?
“And
a good fucking morning to you!” Jake unfolded one arm and waved. A sort of
wave, at least. Locryn blinked at him, then gave a smile that was more like a
grimace. Perhaps they didn’t say fucking in his little corner
of Cornwall.
“You
ready to feel the meat?” Jake asked. He planted his hands on his hips, his
eyebrow arched in challenge.
“Yes…right,
meat.” Locryn abandoned his designated mark as a runner began assembling the
ingredients on the worktop. There were fresh herbs and juicy tomatoes, oils and
spices, but none of the sugar and silliness that Locryn Trevorrow had turned
into his fortune. He approached Jake and lowered his voice a little to ask,
“You do know I’m a baker? I’m just slightly concerned because it doesn’t look
like you’ve set me a baking challenge.”
“And
you do know I’m not a bloody baker?” Jake sighed. “You’ve got
to follow one of my recipes, mate—and I don’t do cupcakes or croissants!”
Locryn
shook his head, then ruffled one hand through his dark-blond hair. He glanced
back at the worktop, where the runner had now covered the ingredients with a
tea towel that bore a pattern of sunflowers.
Very
bloody him.
“I’ll
give it my best,” he decided. Then he smiled and said, “You never know, if I
get it terribly wrong, Zoe and David might get the sympathy vote anyway!”
And
I’ll have to go to the arse end of nowhere for months.
“Do
you think so?” Jake dabbed at some crumbs on the workstation in front of him.
“I bet it’s fucking fixed anyway. That posh couple from Hamble’ll win
because—and don’t tell anyone I told you”—Jake revved up to unleash his secret
in an unsubtle stage whisper, and he didn’t care if anyone overheard—“the
groom’s uncle is one of this show’s producers.”
Locryn
unfastened one of his cufflinks—they wouldn’t be buttons, would they—and
rolled up his sleeve as he said, “That’s not true, is it? Tell me that’s a
fib.”
A
fucking fib. Is he nine?
“It’s true!”
Jake gave an emphatic nod. “Eugenia and Ptolemy have an in. You
may as well send your two fucking home right away! It’s a long way back to your
foggy old smuggler country. If they leave now, they’ll just about catch the
next train!”
But
all Locryn did was unfasten the second cufflink and serenely roll up his
sleeve. Then he smiled and told Jake, “You’re just as charming as I thought
you’d be. Don’t count me out yet, Mr. Brantham. If all else fails, I can try
and fall back on this smile.”
“I
don’t do charming, Trevorrow. I do simple, local, fresh.” Jake
emphasized each word, punching his fist against his palm. Locryn blinked then glanced
toward the floor manager, who was frantically ushering everyone back into
position. Across the studio all three couples were sitting on bright yellow
couches around a coffee table in the mock-up of a sitting room, where guests
were stationed while the cooks gave their demonstrations. Locryn gave them a
thumbs-up and David and Zoe returned it, the young couple looking as nervous as
he was laid-back.
That
won’t last.
“It’s Saturday
Breakfast and—awwww—aren’t David and Zoe adorable?” Katya made a face
into the camera as though she were addressing a newborn kitten. “And someone
else we adore is our guest chef, or should I say guest baker,
Locryn Trevorrow. Locryn’s famous for his naughty but gorgeous cakes and bakes,
and he’s come all the way from Porthavel with our last couple to try and cook
them to victory. Are you ready to face Jake’s challenge, Locryn?”
He
nodded and replied, “As I’ll ever be, Katya.”
“You’ve
already met our couples and the lines are open, so get voting now. At the end
of the program we’ll find out which of our gorgeous couples have won their
dream wedding, and Jake will find out where he’s going to be turning a wreck
into a restaurant in his brand-new series, From Wreck to Restaurant.”
She glanced toward Jake and grinned. “Will he be in Hamble, York or Porthavel?
It’s up to you at home. Jake, it’s time for you to reveal to Locryn what he’s
going to be cooking today!”
Rubbing
his hands together, Jake crossed the studio and stood beside Locryn. The man’s
cologne was suddenly all around Jake. Not a cloying, gassy cloud of it but a
spicy scent that Jake, despite himself, found oddly enticing.
Oh,
fuck that, no.
“So,
Locryn, no f—fancy cupcakes for you today!” Jake said. “Instead, you’ll be
making one of my favorites, pork goujons with tomato sauce.
It’s simple, it’s local, it’s fresh, and when you get to the breadcrumbs, it’s
bloody close to baking.”
“Pork?”
Locryn looked down at the worktop as Katya pulled back the tea towel to reveal
the ingredients. He rubbed his hands together and glanced toward the couples on
the sofa. “I’m up for that. It’s for Zoe and David, after all!”
“You’ve
got your recipe, you’ve got your ingredients and you’ve got Jake to keep you on
your toes.” Katya grinned. “Jake, any hints or tips for Locryn before he dives
in and tries to recreate one of your Michelin-starred staples?”
“Feel
the meat,” Jake advised. He leaned with one hand on the worktop. “Don’t skate
round it. It’s central to the dish. You need to feel it and
know when it’s cut the right size, know when it’s cooked through. That’s the
secret working with any f—flesh. Meat. You’ve got to feel it.”
