UPDATE: The winners are…Beckie and Beverly Blank!
*~*~*

I love doing flashback highlights! It’s not only a reminder to you but also to me of the many stories I’ve written. Did you know that before I wrote bounty hunters, I had this entire series of SEAL-hero stories? Yup—twelve of them. With Book # 10, Big Sky SEAL, not only was the story part of my sister Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors world, but it was also the book that kicked off my Montana Bounty Hunters series.

So, if you’re looking for something to binge, a complete series to enjoy, start with Watch Over Me. Enjoy an excerpt from the opening of the first Uncharted SEALs book!

Enjoy! ~DD

   

   

   

Click on the covers to learn more about these stories!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

What author’s older series have your recently discovered and devoured? Spread some love!

Watch Over Me

When Deke Warrick accepts an unsanctioned detail to keep tabs on a congressman’s niece while she vacations in the Caribbean, he expects the only dangers he’ll face are sunburn and a rum hangover. Determined to keep his distance, his resolve is challenged by a chance encounter with the beautiful Nicky Martir—and then shattered when she’s snatched from their hotel room.

Excerpt from Watch Over Me…

Deke Warrick pushed his sunglasses down his nose to peer at the woman stretched on a chaise not five feet away. She laid face down, her head turned away, thick brown hair held in place by a clip. From the slowness of her breaths, he knew she was dozing. And since he figured she wouldn’t be leaving the beach anytime soon, he relaxed, forcing his fingers to stretch around the teak wood arms of his lounge chair.

After two connecting flights and a short leg in a specially chartered puddle-jumper, at last he had eyes on Nicky Martir. He knew the woman was her because a hotel staff member he’d bribed had pointed her out. Assistance he’d needed because at the moment she didn’t look anything like the air-brushed Facebook photo he’d been given. After finding her, he’d checked out the hotel’s parking and lounge area, all entrances and exits, the stairwells, and then greased the palms of the concierge and wait staff. His initial recon over, he now had time to focus on his target.

From his vantage point, he’d already determined his former commander’s “little girl” was all grown up. In fact, she was a very well-proportioned woman with lush curves above and below a narrow waist. Must have taken after her mother, he mused, because her father’s frame didn’t sport an ounce of excess flesh. At the moment, her bottom was most prominent—rounded, firm, and displayed all too well by the narrow thong bisecting her cheeks. Not that he wanted to notice, but hell, it was right there, and with more than enough curve a healthy, hetero man could well imagine his hands gripping each mound as he…

“Señor, would you like another drink?”

Deke jerked. No one had managed to sneak up on him in a long time, which said a lot about Nicky’s attractiveness.

The cabana girl’s voice held a note of irritation. Her dark brows were drawn into a frown, her lips pursed in disapproval. But not because he’d been ogling a sleeping girl. He’d claimed a spot beneath a thatched umbrella at the edge of the small tiki bar’s outdoor seating area, and he had yet to deliver on the promise he’d made with his smile when he’d asked for this prime piece of real estate. The seat with its attached table provided a perfect view of the beach, as well as the private gated entrance of the hotel parking lot. More importantly, the chair was situated near Nicky. Not close enough to touch, but from here, he could watch over her, amidst the other sunbathers.

Giving the waitress an equally irritated glance, he reached into his pocket and took out several bills, more than enough for five drinks and a generous tip. “Bring me a virgin mojito,” he murmured quietly. A ruse to disguise the fact he hadn’t had a sip of alcohol, because he was on the job—even if this mission was strictly off the books and a favor to a man he admired.

His gaze swung back to the dozing woman. She’d turned her head while he’d been talking to the waitress and was facing him now, a dark fringe of long lashes resting against her cheeks. Yeah, her photo hadn’t done her justice. Sure, he’d known she was pretty, but this close, he could see a smattering of freckles across her nose—a feature she must hide beneath makeup, but which he thought was cute. Made her seem more approachable. Her mouth was full, the bottom lip a little puffier than the top and wide. A mouth made for kissing.

Deke winced and glanced away, feeling guilty over lusting after Commander Martir’s daughter. He was here to do a job. Although Martir had retired from the navy and now held a seat in congress with special oversight of the administration’s war on drugs, he had maintained close ties with the SEAL community, working with his contacts inside the Drug Enforcement Agency to find positions for several of Deke’s friends when they’d started the next phases of their lives. Their special skill set had been a perfect fit for the spec ops work the agency did, and Martir wanted men he could trust working there—disciplined, honorable men. Martir had promised Deke he’d keep a spot open for whenever he was ready to leave DEVGRU/SEAL Team 6, something Deke had automatically refused a year ago. But after his last deployment in the sandbox, he was having second thoughts. Martir’s timing, approaching him the day after Deke set boots back on the tarmac at Oceana, VA, had seemed like a sign.

Deke answered a summons to his present commander’s office and instead found Martir standing with his back to the door as he stared out across the green, hands clasped behind his back. Other than the gray at his temples, Fred Martir looked exactly as he had when he’d been the one in charge here.

Deke entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Sir,” he said, coming to attention—out of respect for a former officer who had been a SEAL himself.

When the congressman turned, he raked his gaze over Deke, dressed in a fresh uniform, but still looking scruffy due to the beard he kept while deployed and the non-reg hair he’d let grow well past his collar. “At ease, Deke. Callahan,” he said, referring to the team’s present commander, “tells me you’ve accumulated leave which you refuse to take.”

As he narrowed his gaze, Deke slid his hands behind his back and braced his feet apart, wondering where that statement was leading. “I didn’t exactly refuse, sir. I prefer sticking close to base.” That he didn’t have family to visit or a girlfriend to spend time with was no one’s business but his own. And no one needed to know how uncomfortable he’d come to feel wandering outside his close-knit community.

The older man’s gaze locked on Deke. “This last rotation—I hear things got pretty rough.”

Deke straightened his shoulders. Not a secret, but definitely not something he wanted to discuss. “We lost two good men. Happens.” And while his words were spare, maybe even a little too nonchalant, he couldn’t keep the gravel from his voice at the thought of Sting’s death, or the fact he’d been the one to gather what was left of Mark’s body before he’d humped it back to the helo.

“Callahan says your OIC would prefer you take a break. But since I know you’re a stubborn son of a bitch, I have a proposition for you. Something that’ll get your commander off your back. A job. Strictly off the books. Something personal.” He cleared his throat. “For me.”

Deke met Martir’s gaze, steady as always, but noted there was a hint of worry there, a tension reflected in the deepened lines of his face. Whatever his reason for being here had to be pretty important because he’d never seen that expression on the older man’s face. “I’m listening.”

Deke learned that Martir had received death threats from a drug cartel unhappy with recent crackdowns he’d helped orchestrate. And while his ex-wife and daughter lived well-away from DC and out of the public eye, he was worried about their safety.

“I have eyes on my wife, but my daughter…” He shook his head. “She has vacation plans she’s refused to postpone. And she wouldn’t accept my offer of a bodyguard.” Martir winced. “If you haven’t guessed already, we’re not on the best of terms. She tends to do the exact opposite of anything I suggest.”

A situation that almost made Deke smile—the thought that anyone would stand up to the tough old bird. And just as quickly, he decided this “job,” even if it was a boondoggle, was an assignment he needed. A purpose to focus on beside the sorrow and guilt that weighed him down. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

Just a day later, he’d managed to track down his former commander’s daughter on this little speck of an island in the Caribbean. Despite Martir’s fears his family might be targeted due to recent media leaks, Deke doubted Nicky Martir was in any serious danger of retaliation. Not here. The island was too small—both in size and in population—for any group to infiltrate undetected among the small tourist population. But Martir was picking up the tab for this working vacation, so Deke would keep frosty.

Not that doing so required effort. Deke had forgotten how to relax. The attitude was one he had to force himself to try because he knew his constant edginess wasn’t healthy. Might even be a sure sign of some nasty issues he’d never admit to, but that could wind up biting him in the butt if he didn’t handle them on his own. A vacation in the Caribbean should have fit the bill. Not that an island getaway would have been on his short list of places he’d want to chill after a long deployment. He was sick to death of heat, even if a light sea breeze made the hot sunlight bearable. Still, the view wasn’t bad.

Again, he shifted in his chair, trying not to stare too long at Nicky’s lovely ass. Dressed in Hawaiian-themed swimming trunks, the only style he’d found in the hotel gift shop other than skin-tight bikini Speedos, he worried he couldn’t hide his growing interest in the pretty brunette’s many assets. She was off-limits. Any woman would be, because he wouldn’t allow any distractions. Even if this mission was a cake-walk, he’d give the work a hundred-ten percent of his attention. He was a SEAL; after twelve years on the DEVGRU team, mission focus was part of his DNA.

A movement caught his eye. Small hands slid up the side of the chaise, going for the bow securing her bikini top.

Deke gritted his teeth. As the ribbons loosened and the bra fell away, he had a glimpse of pretty white breast, just the side, but the swell was generous. Now he was imagining a full frontal view. Would her nipples be pink or brown? Once he’d dated a girl with pale beige nipples that had turned a lovely rose when…

“Dammit,” he said under his breath and looked away again, breathing deeply as he willed his body not to tighten. He scanned the other chaises and then looked out to the ocean, counting through the approach of three sets of waves.

When he glanced back at the chaise, he spotted those pink-tipped fingers reaching to the ground and scooting a bottle of sunscreen across the sand. Toward him.

His gaze shot to her pretty cognac brown eyes, and he caught her small, one-sided smile.

“Do you mind?” she asked, her voice a little raspy, like a woman might sound when she first woke in the morning. Like maybe he was the first person she’d spoken to today.

What the hell? Some covert operator he was—he hadn’t managed to hide his attraction. If he didn’t act on her question, she might come to the conclusion he was a perv or a stalker. Better to make a move, but he’d keep it light.

Slipping off his chair, he strode toward her, bending to snag the bottle. “Just the back?” he asked, keeping his tone amused.

“And anywhere you think needs it,” she said, her voice breathier this time.

Deke blew out a long stream of air then turned back to where he’d been seated, carefully placing the rolled-up towel he’d brought that hid the compact Beretta Nano the pilot on the puddle jumper had provided beside him. Then kneeling, he dribbled creamy liquid that smelled of coconut and Shea butter across her shoulders and gently laid his hands on her hot, golden skin. Under his fingers were firm muscles cloaking her slender frame. And tension knotting her shoulders. “Relax. I can’t get too fresh. Too many people around, anyway.” He smoothed the thick liquid over her shoulders, fingers wrapping around the tops to give her a light massage. “How’d you know I spoke English?”

“I heard you talking to the waitress.”

“Oh.” He’d tried to keep his voice lowered so he wouldn’t attract her attention. Either he was slipping, or she had super-power hearing.

“You here on vacation?” she asked.

Why would she think otherwise? He pressed his thumbs against the knots at the back of her neck. “I am.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“My dad send you?”

His hands stilled, then he massaged again, but he figured she couldn’t have missed his immediate response. So, the question hadn’t been stupid after all. “How’d you guess that?”

“You have a SEAL’s body.”

He grunted, not giving her verbal confirmation, but then, he didn’t have to. Nicky Martir was as smart as she was pretty. Now that his cover was blown, he wondered how far she’d let him continue his casual massage. Irritation at having been made so quickly gave him an itch to turn the table on her, make her squirm, but only just a little. He rubbed her back, moving downward, fingers wrapping around her sides, touching the sides of those creamy breasts.

Her breath hitched, lifting her body a scant inch. “Careful there.”

“Just being thorough.” A smile tugged at his mouth, but he moved down again, leaning over her, kneading the small of her back.

Her breaths deepened. So did his. When he paused to drizzle more hot lotion over the tops of her exposed buttocks, she chuckled—a soft, choked sound. But she didn’t reach back to shove away his hands, so he guessed she was okay with him getting fresh.

Her ass was toned, the skin a smooth tan. When he shifted the top of the sea blue thong, a pale line betrayed the fact her immodesty wasn’t something she reserved for only when she was on vacation. Something he liked in a woman—courage, confidence, and an animal sensuality.

He kept his hands on the tops of her cheeks, fingers well away from the crease bisecting her anatomy…although the temptation to follow the deep curve was there.

“Don’t be shy now,” she whispered. “I’ll have a pink stripe down my butt.”

He shook his head, his grin widening. “You this bold with every stranger you meet?”

“Since you’re here at my daddy’s request, I figure you’re safe to flirt with.”

“Think I won’t take advantage?”

Her head turned, one eye raking his frame, then clinging to his face. “It’s not taking advantage since I asked.”

The thing he’d fought from the moment he’d first spotted her nearly nude body happened. His cock stirred, thickening. “Damn,” he said, his fingers curving, smoothing lotion into the sweet divide. “I’ll have to borrow your towel.”

“You could always lie down beside me, seeing as you have to keep watch over me anyway.”

“Gonna rub lotion on my back?”

“And anywhere I think needs it,” she said in an amused drawl.

“Lady, anyone ever tell you you’re a tease?”

She smiled and came up on an elbow, rolling onto her side and exposing her lovely breasts. “I don’t tease.”

Pink. Her nipples were pink. “You trying to get us arrested?” he whispered due to a suddenly dry throat.

“No one cares.” Her glance went to his rigid cock. “No one except you.” And her mouth curved into a cat-like smile.

UPDATE: The winners are…Karen LeBeau and Elaine Swinney!
*~*~*

Before there were bounty hunters, there were SEALs. And I loved writing my Uncharted SEALs series. All those rugged, alpha heroes and strong heroines. Humor. Action. Spicy sex. All the ingredients that make stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you to read.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy-Ever-Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL.

Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who, as a result of their work in Big Sky, earned their own satellite office of MBH. A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship and have the same supporting characters. Plus, Hard SEAL to Love features a disabled female vet!

This time, I’d like you to read the very fun introduction of Big Sky SEAL.

Enjoy!

   

   

   

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

Do you still like alpha hero stories, featuring ex-military men? What’s one you’ve read recently you really enjoyed?

Big Sky SEAL

Romance sparks between a bounty hunter and a SEAL on the hunt for an escaped terrorist…

A former military police dog handler, Jamie Burke, along with her former bomb dog Tessa, are still trying to adjust to civilian life. With a jaded, testy personality, Jamie has few friends. Now, a bounty hunter, she’s tasked to help federal and local law enforcement search for an escaped terrorist in the Crazy Mountains of Montana.

Former SEAL, Sky Reynolds can’t believe Jamie Burke is part of the task force. The last time he saw her was in Afghanistan. Back then, he thought he’d never stand a chance with the pretty, ballsy blonde, sure she had someone waiting for her back home. But here she is, still single, still prickly as hell. Assigned to stick close to her and her dog Tessa during the hunt, he’ll use the situation to get close. This time, he’s not letting her slip away.

When Jamie’s captured by the terrorist, it’s up to Sky, his fellow SEALs, and her motley crew of bounty hunters to save her…

Excerpt from Big Sky SEAL…

According to the satellite image, Mosby’s cousin’s crude hunting shack stood in an isolated clearing deep in a woodsy area at the foothills of the Salish Mountains. Jamie Burke and her partner for this takedown, Reaper Stenberg, parked their SUV a quarter mile down the gravel road leading to the Montana cabin.

Lock and load time. Jamie drew deep slow breaths to slow her heart, while getting her head “in the zone”. They were going after a badass. A mistake could turn deadly.

Reaper opened the back hatch of the SUV and reached into their bag of weapons and gear.

First, they donned Kevlar jackets. Jamie clipped her badge onto her web belt and slid her Glock into the holster strapped to her leg. Then Reaper held out a shotgun with an orange stock.

She glared. “Seriously? You expect me to take down Mosby with a bean bag round?”

“I don’t expect you to take down a damn thing, other than notes.” He smirked. “I’ll handle Mosby. If he gets past me, you nail him in the gut with this.” His glacier-blue eyes narrowed. “Your Glock is your last resort. You’ll be coming through the back of the cabin. Think I’d trust you with real bullets when I’ll be in the line of fire?”

“I’m a better shot than you,” she muttered, thinking of her last weapons qualification test and the ten tightly grouped shots in the circle around the heart on her target.

“On the range. This is the real world, sweet cheeks.”

She crimped her mouth and loaded a bean bag round into the chamber of her weapon, then stuffed two more shells into the pockets of her jeans. The rounds, intended to disable rather than kill, were filled with fabric “pillows” containing birdshot. Although his caution made sense, she couldn’t let him know she was relieved to carry non-lethal rounds—she’d seen enough death and never wanted to kill again. The fact he didn’t trust her aim—or, perhaps, her nerves—rankled. Still, they’d be inside close quarters, and the “non-lethal” round was far more dangerous than when used, as recommended, to hit targets twenty to sixty feet away.

Didn’t matter to Reaper that she was ex-military and knew her way around firearms. Since being discharged, she’d caught a desk at Montana Bounty Hunters, learning the ropes of the paperwork end of the job, and training with the agency’s owner, “Fetch” Winter, until he’d felt comfortable letting her ride shotgun with his most experienced hunter.

From the moment Fetch told Reaper she was his responsibility, he’d been on her ass. No doubt Reaper hoped she’d quit inside a week, but she was entering her second week and rather enjoying the fact her stubborn acceptance of his constant snarky disses annoyed the crap out of him. She’d weathered similar, un-PC comments during her time in the military. They rolled off her back like rain off a duck’s ass.

Lastly, he handed her an earpiece and inserted his own. “Testing,” he whispered. When she took her time responding, he raised an eyebrow. “You got it turned on?”

She raised her hand and shot him the bird. “I heard you loud and clear.”

He hefted a battering ram with one huge hand and rested it on his shoulder then passed over a lock pick kit. “Don’t keep me waiting. As soon as you’re in place, I’ll knock down the door.”

“Shouldn’t we make sure he’s inside first?”

He scowled. “Think I’m a rookie, rookie? Peek in a window on your way. And don’t get your head shot off.”

“Geez, I’d almost think you cared,” she said, giving him a sly grin and a wink.

His expression remained stony.

The time was mid-afternoon, still plenty of light, but she knew he was too impatient to get this catch-and-release finished. They’d already logged ten days on the road, interviewing Mosby’s high school buddies, family members, and former cellmates. A girlfriend who was pissed Mosby was willing to let her car be taken, part of the collateral of his bail bond, mentioned the hunting cabin. After a quick trip to a local Bureau of Land Management office that morning, they had what they hoped was their first break in this case.

They jogged down the quarter mile track to the edge of the clearing. She stayed close to his heels while his long blond ponytail flapped down his back. Not for the first time, she noted his broad shoulders and powerful build. If only he wasn’t such a dick to work with… When they halted, she noted the rusty white pickup parked next to the porch. Someone was home.

Reaper gave her a curt nod then broke left following the tree line, while she kept to the brush to the right, until she was midway down the long side of the shotgun shack. With her heart rate kicking higher, she edged carefully toward a window and shot upward to glance inside.

A man sat in the shadows of a living room in a ratty easy chair, watching TV.

She edged upward again, quickly studied his profile, then crouched to pull the bench warrant from her back pocket to check out their target’s picture. Same bald head and heavy brows, same black tribal tattoo climbing up his shoulder from under his grubby white wife beater to wrap around his neck. “It’s him,” she whispered. “In the living room. Front door’s ten feet from his chair.”

“Is he armed?”

“Didn’t see a weapon. I’m heading to the back door.” She kept close to the side of the house, came around the back, and then halted when she noted the modified back door. “Big damn dog door,” she whispered. “I didn’t see a dog.”

“Good. Door saves us both some time. Get your ass inside, Burke.”

Jamie knelt, lifted the rubber flap, and peeked inside. Still no dog in sight. Tightening her mouth, she pushed her weapon through first, angled her hips, and crawled into the opening, her hands sliding on greasy tile. “I’m inside,” she whispered as she lay sprawled on a floor that smelled like onions and beer. Did the guy use the floor to fry his hamburgers?

“On three,” came Reaper’s raspy whisper. “One…two…three…”

As she shoved to her feet, she heard a distant crash as the wooden front door splintered, and then the clatter of nails on linoleum from a room just beyond the kitchen. She rushed through the doorway into a bedroom just as a short, very muscular brindle pit bull jumped onto the mattress, heading in the most direct path toward her. She darted into a bathroom, climbed onto the toilet seat, then the small counter. When the dog stood on his hind legs, snapping at her boots, she leapt toward the doorway and slammed the door closed, trapping him inside.

The dog thudded heavily against the wood and then barked like a hellhound.

The sound of furniture thudding came from the next room. Something glass hit the floor and shattered. Muffled grunts and curses sounded.

“Bastard, stay down!” Reaper shouted.

Speeding toward the living room, Jamie halted when she saw Daniel Mosby with Reaper hanging on their target’s back, his arm around his neck in a chokehold.

The two large men hit one side of the doorframe then the other. Mosby’s face was red, his teeth bared. Three inches taller and burlier than Reaper, Mosby kept moving.

Pulse racing, she backed up toward the kitchen doorway.

“Shoot him, Burke!” Reaper growled. “Shoot the fucker!”

Sucking in a breath, she raised her shotgun, aimed for Mosby’s large belly, and pulled the trigger.

Mosby grunted, his black eyes widened, and he screamed, despite the arm cinching his thick neck. And despite the direct hit, he kept coming.

She backed up into the kitchen, sure Mosby would drop any second, but he lunged toward a wall, slamming Reaper against it. Reaper’s hold loosened.

Mosby shook him off and aimed an elbow behind him, catching Reaper in the chin as he went down. Mosby’s dark gaze locked with hers, and he rushed forward.

With no time to load another round in the shotgun, she considered her Glock, but that was her last resort.

Brains over brawn—a cliché that had served her well in tighter situations. The bastard was big and lumbered toward her like a bear. Likely his size intimidated most men, but she wasn’t a man. And she wasn’t scared. Although she was good at pretending fear. She widened her eyes and sank into a crouch, raising a hand as though to cover her head.

Behind Mosby, Reaper groaned. “Goddammit, Burke. Use your fucking weapon!”

But she had a better idea. Killing was easy. And Mosby had sworn he’d never be caught, never spend another day in prison. She wanted the sorry asshole to spend years thinking about the fact he’d been bested by a woman.

As he rushed her, she kept her feet flat on the greasy floor and ducked to the side. Just as he came within reach, she swept out a foot and tripped him. On his way toward the dirty tile, she spun and clocked him in the back of the head with the butt of her shotgun.

He hit the floor hard, arms sprawled from his sides, and didn’t move.

Before he could stir again, she stuck a knee in his lower back, pulled back one meaty arm, and latched a cuff around his thick wrist, then repeated the action with the other. When he was secured, she shot to her feet and stood over him, at last withdrawing her Glock from its holster to point toward his ass in case he roused. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder at Reaper. “You through napping?”

“Bitch,” he wheezed from the floor.

“He wasn’t armed. What’s your excuse?”

Reaper sat and leaned against the kitchen wall, working his jaw side to side. He winced. “I was just softening him up for you, babe. Nice takedown, by the way.”

And then he smiled—a real smile, not his usual one-sided smirk. She grinned, relieved that at last he saw her worth. “I’m still too scrawny to get his ass to our vehicle. You rested?”

He chuckled and pushed upward, not hiding a groan as he straightened. “Wait until I tell Fetch. He said you were a firecracker, and that I shouldn’t count you out in a fight.”

UPDATE: The winners are…Lisa Kendall and Cindy!
*~*~*

I love doing flashback highlights! It’s not only a reminder to you but also to me of the many stories I’ve written. Did you know before I wrote bounty hunters that I had this entire series of SEAL-hero stories? Read an excerpt from the second “Uncharted” book!

Enjoy! ~DD

   

   

   

Click on the covers to learn more about these stories!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

What author’s older series have your recently discovered and devoured? Spread some love!

Her Next Breath

Ex-SEAL Jackson Keller’s first mission with the Charter Group’s spec ops unit is a bust. Instead of capturing a drug lord in his Mexican compound, he finds a beautiful, naked woman. But she may have information they need to nail the narco-terrorist, so he takes her, sealing his fate. She’s his to watch, his to “manage” until the op’s done.

Suri McAnally’s made some mistakes—mainly trusting her college roomie who just so happens to be the son of one of Mexico’s most dangerous drug lords. If Jackson can save her, she’ll do whatever he says, mirror his moves, and try to keep her insta-lust under control. Her next breath depends on it.

Excerpt from Her Next Breath…

When Suri awoke, it was to discover she was resting inside the curve of Jackson’s arm, her thigh draped over his, her head on his chest. She didn’t know who’d moved the blanket. Maybe they’d both naturally gravitated together. She hated to think she might have been the one to cross the line demarking their personal space.

Partly because she didn’t want to wake him, and partly because it was a new experience lying inside a man’s embrace, she held her breath and remained perfectly still. She breathed in his scent, which was a sagey musk combined with the remaining odor of the paint he’d worn on his face. His skin was smooth, warm, tanned and cloaked a hard, very muscular frame. Her fingertips tingled, and she very nearly gave into the temptation to run one tip over his hard abs. Instead, she curled her hand into a fist.

Last night when she’d seen him fully for the first time—without the paint, his body nearly nude—she’d felt her knees wobble. He was devastatingly handsome, not in a pretty-boy way. He was too manly, too large, all hard angles and lovely bulges, with short, nearly dark-brown hair and those cloudy gray eyes. Even the stubble on his chin made her thighs clench.

Suri hoped she didn’t sleep beside him for many more nights or she’d grow accustomed to his physique. Any man she met after this little adventure would pale in comparison.

Her glance traveled downward to the sheet barely covering his hips. Maybe it was the fold of the sheets, but the fabric was tented.

“Playing possum?”

She raised her head and met his gaze, blushing because she’d been caught staring at his sex.

“Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You’re breathing, aren’t you?” he muttered in a graveled tone.

She frowned, not understanding, and then pushed away from his body although she instantly regretted the loss of his warmth. When she’d first awoken, she’d felt sheltered, safe—and not just from Diego and his henchmen. She’d felt…cherished.

Ridiculous, she knew. And slightly pathetic. Was she really so needy for human connection that she was romanticizing over Jackson?

But in the morning light, his face wasn’t quite so hard-bitten. Scruffy, dark bristles covered his chin and jaw; his gaze rested on her rather than spearing her.

His glance cut away, and he looked at his watch. “Chow’s nearly over. We should dress.”

“I’m starved.”

The corners of his mouth twitched.

His first smile?

And then his features grew remote again, his mouth firmed. “Get dressed. I need to check in with Teague.”

Aware his gaze followed her still, she rose and stretched her arms high, and then headed to her pillow case.

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?”

She aimed a grin over her shoulder. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

His gaze narrowed, but a one-sided smile curved.

Feeling as though she’d accomplished something noteworthy, she entered the bathroom, closing the door against the temptation that was Jackson Keller.

UPDATE: The winners are…commenters 1-8!
*~*~*

Before there were bounty hunters, there were SEALs. And I loved writing my Uncharted SEALs series. All those rugged, alpha heroes and strong heroines. Humor. Action. Spicy sex. All the ingredients that make stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you to read.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy-Ever-Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL. Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who as a result of their work in Big Sky earned their own satellite office of MBH. A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship and have the same supporting characters. Plus, Hard SEAL to Love features a disabled female vet!

This time, I’d like you to read the EXPLOSIVE opening scene of Baby, It’s You.

Enjoy!

   

   

   

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

Do you like second chance stories? Have you read one lately? List the title to share it.

Baby, It’s You

Carter Vance, Jr. stands at the fork in the road. Wounded in action, the Navy SEAL has a decision to make: whether to find work with a spec ops unit or return to his family ranch in Texas and repair his fractured relationship with his dying father and the woman he wronged. Complicating the decision is his reignited attraction to Melanie Schaeffer and his confusion over his feelings for his dead brother’s little girl, whom Melanie has raised since his brother’s and her sister’s deaths by a terrorist’s bomb.

Excerpt from Baby, It’s You…

The morning that would change Melanie Schaeffer’s life forever began quietly enough. The whoosh of a curtain opening sounded a moment before sunlight spilled across her bed. Melanie rolled to her back to see the maid picking up clothing Melanie had left draped over a chair the night before.

A blush crept into her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever grow accustomed to having someone else handle her intimate items. “You don’t have to do that,” Melanie said as she pushed another pillow behind her head. “I can clean up after myself.”

The maid gave her a cheerful smile. “It’s my job. And I wouldn’t have woken you at all, but you did say you wanted to get used to the time change…”

Yes, there was that. After two days, she still felt a little muzzy-headed. The nine hours’ difference in time zones from Austin to this little city bordering Asia and the Middle East took some getting used to. Melanie rubbed her eyes and blinked, focusing on the sun peeking through the arched window and the view of the lovely, lush garden beyond it. Bushes exploding with large cabbage roses and tall, fruit-laden palms nearly obscured the ten-foot wall surrounding the estate nestled in the diplomats’ sector.

Never had she stayed in such a luxurious place, never slept in a softer bed, especially one covered in a plush white-and-blue damask duvet that felt as light as a cloud. So many luxuries to be enjoyed, but she felt uncomfortable surrounded by the opulence. And the last thing she wanted was to grow used to the amenities. At the end of summer, she would be heading back to her small, cramped apartment. Handsome U.S. ambassadors weren’t in her cards. More likely, she’d marry another teacher, and they’d settle into suburbia, worrying about the mortgage and their next car payment, and she was okay with that.

She glanced at the designer suitcase, the logo prominent on the side—something that cost more than the clothing inside it—a gift from her sister. One to which Cassie likely hadn’t given much thought, or she would have gifted Melanie with something simpler and sturdier.

Cassie wasn’t intentionally thoughtless. She’d likely told an aide to buy a case and ship it to her sister, never thinking the case itself would be an issue. Cassie had always been destined to have more in life. Always simply expected it. Stunning and smart, she looked like a movie star but spoke seven languages. That Cassie wanted her to be part of her life pleased Melanie, but she knew over time, they would drift farther and farther apart. Their worlds would never intersect.

The maid continued to tidy her bedroom, so Melanie rose and moved to the suitcase she still hadn’t unpacked. She laid it open on an upholstered bench and rummaged for an outfit, nothing anywhere near elegant enough for her present surroundings—plain dark slacks and a blue, long-sleeved cotton blouse. Something appropriately demure should she be seen by any of the locals employed by her brother-in-law. “Are my sister and the ambassador still here?” She threw the question over her shoulder as she strode to the bathroom.

“They’re taking breakfast in the kitchen. You’ll catch them if you hurry.”

Glad she’d managed to drag herself from bed earlier than the day before, she hurried through her ablutions and skipped down the stairs.

Melanie took a step through the kitchen door, then quickly backed out, not wanting to interrupt the tender embrace between Cassie and Daniel. Since her arrival, she’d witnessed several such kisses, and she doubted they’d be embarrassed. She was the one with the problem. Their passion made her edgy…and a little bleak.

Daniel couldn’t help that he looked so much like his brother that every time she saw him she felt a little twinge in her chest. After three years, she would have thought the nostalgic pain had diminished, but maybe she was a one-man woman. And maybe she needed to date more. She’d never forgotten her first real crush. No other man had ever made her feel the same intense desire.

She’d met Carter Vance at her sister’s wedding. The intense attraction still mystified her. He’d barely smiled in her direction, although they’d been best man and maid of honor, and were forced into each other’s company constantly throughout the week of activities leading up to the wedding. She’d blushed and struggled to be nice to the taciturn Navy SEAL, and he’d eyed her with a look that bespoke his impatience with all the hoo-hah surrounding the marriage of her sister to the ambassador, a local celebrity in their tiny town in Texas. Because Cassie and Melanie had no family to speak of, Daniel’s father had stepped in to give the couple a wedding befitting a Vance, a proud Texas family that had owned the Rocking V Ranch since Texas became a state in the Union. His father had been kind and gracious, as had his brother Lee. They’d welcomed her into the family right along with Cassie, going to the extreme of talking her into transferring from Old Miss to the University of Texas at Austin so that she could visit during her breaks. They’d even paid the remaining years of her tuition. She’d graduated just a couple of weeks ago, and now, had time to think about what she wanted to do next. Grad school? Her teacher’s certification? She hadn’t quite made up her mind, and she didn’t want to impose any longer on Mr. Vance’s generosity. She wanted to start paying her own way.

Not that he ever voiced a bit of concern over the expense of her upkeep. All the Vance family had been wonderful to her, except for Carter, Jr. The week of the wedding, she’d noted she wasn’t the only one who’d earned his steely glances. A decided chill had been in the air every time father and son came too close together. Even after all these years, she didn’t know what had caused the rift or why it mattered so much to her. Why he mattered…

She cleared her throat and entered the breakfast room again to find her sister grinning and patting her hair.

“You’re up!” Cassie turned and smiled. “You really don’t have to see us off. You should have slept in. This is your vacation.”

Melanie shook her head and made a beeline for the toddler in the high chair. “You paid for my flight to get me here. The least I can do is play nanny to this munchkin while your au pair is back in the States and you both have to work.”

Cassie laughed. “I don’t work. Today, I’m just keeping the wife of the French attaché entertained while Daniel and his staff work on…whatever it is they’re discussing,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Daniel smiled, never moving his hands from her sister’s hips or his gaze from her shining eyes. “Madame Boucher is a very exacting guest. You, my dear, will earn your husband’s undying gratitude by keeping her happy.”

Her sister scrunched her nose then glanced downward at her outfit, a very stylish olive sheath.

A color that would have made Melanie look like death warmed over, but against Cassie’s dark hair and tanned skin, made her look very sophisticated.

“The last time we met she asked me if all consulate women shopped at Tar-zhay.”

Melanie giggled then bent closer to her niece to tug at a strawberry-blonde curl. “It’s just you and me, babe. What do you say we make you a bottle and watch some Dora the Explorer?”

“Doe-wah!” Emmy squealed and reached her chubby little hands upward.

Melanie’s heart did a little flutter. Never would she have imagined loving anyone on sight, but she was surely smitten by the cherub with cereal stuck to the side of her cheek. “Let me get a cloth, and I’ll clean you up.” She headed toward the sink.

Cassie gently pushed away Daniel’s hands. “I’ll get my purse. I wouldn’t want to add the sin of being late to the long list of things that woman will complain about.”

Daniel checked his watch. “We’ve got plenty of time. Atkins scoped out an alternate route. We’ll completely miss the protesters gathering by the north gate of the embassy.”

Cassie returned, pulling on a matching olive jacket, and paused beside the high chair to pat her little girl’s hair. “Be good for Melly today, sweetie.”

“I good,” the baby said, again raising her hands, “Kissh?”

“Last time I did, you mashed your food all over my clothes.” Instead, Cassie caught one hand and drew it toward her mouth to give the tip of each chubby little finger a kiss. “Love you, sweetums.” With a flutter of her fingers toward Melanie, her sister preceded her handsome husband out the door.

With their departure, quiet fell over the kitchen. Melanie took a deep breath, feeling a little guilty about the fact she was glad they were both gone. She’d have time alone with the little one, for them to bond and for Melanie to feel more relaxed. Because hey, her brother-in-law was her country’s ambassador to this little nation and lived in a freaking mansion. Her relationship with her sister wasn’t especially close; too many years divided them.

Cassie had gotten a job in the diplomatic corps right out of college and had only been home for brief visits, the last time to attend their parents’ funerals. And although Cassie did do her best to keep in touch—calling once a week, sending lavish gifts, even buying her a small, used car—Melanie didn’t feel comfortable around her more polished and sophisticated sister. Not like she did with the baby from the first moment they’d met.

She finished wiping the little girl’s fingers clean, removed the food tray, and lifted eighteen-month-old Emmy into her arms, just as she heard car doors slam outside on the cobbled driveway. Turning with the intention of walking to the window so the baby could wave good bye to her parents, Melanie caught a bright flash of light in the corner of her eye, felt a brief moment of complete, airless silence, then felt herself hurled through the air as an explosion of sound and debris hammered against her body.

The moment lengthened, searing pain stung her cheek, and a scream rent the air. And as her arms tightened around the precious bundle still held tightly against her chest, Melanie fell into darkness.

UPDATE: The winner is…Jana!
*~*~*

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, let me know who this weekend’s book boyfriend will be! 

If you haven’t already chosen your boyfriend, here’s a suggestion. 🙂

If you’re looking for something to read this weekend, I have a suggestion. Pick up an Uncharted SEAL story! There are 12 books in the series! Each story is unique. Each hero and heroine is unique. I worked hard to give each character their own story with their own issues and adventures.

If you’d like a taste of one of the stories, here’s Baby, It’s You, which features Carter and Melanie, who stand at a crossroads between their past and future in small-town Texas.

Read an Excerpt from Baby, It’s You…

The morning that would change Melanie Schaeffer’s life forever began quietly enough. The whoosh of a curtain opening sounded a moment before sunlight spilled across her bed. Melanie rolled to her back to see the maid picking up clothing Melanie had left draped over a chair the night before.

A blush crept into her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever grow accustomed to having someone else handle her intimate items. “You don’t have to do that,” Melanie said as she pushed another pillow behind her head. “I can clean up after myself.”

The maid gave her a cheerful smile. “It’s my job. And I wouldn’t have woken you at all, but you did say you wanted to get used to the time change…”

Yes, there was that. After two days, she still felt a little muzzy-headed. The nine hours’ difference in time zones from Austin to this little city bordering Asia and the Middle East took some getting used to. Melanie rubbed her eyes and blinked, focusing on the sun peeking through the arched window and the view of the lovely, lush garden beyond it. Bushes exploding with large cabbage roses and tall, fruit-laden palms nearly obscured the ten-foot wall surrounding the estate nestled in the diplomats’ sector.

Never had she stayed in such a luxurious place, never slept in a softer bed, especially one covered in a plush white-and-blue damask duvet that felt as light as a cloud. So many luxuries to be enjoyed, but she felt uncomfortable surrounded by the opulence. And the last thing she wanted was to grow used to the amenities. At the end of summer, she would be heading back to her small, cramped apartment. Handsome U.S. ambassadors weren’t in her cards. More likely, she’d marry another teacher, and they’d settle into suburbia, worrying about the mortgage and their next car payment, and she was okay with that.

She glanced at the designer suitcase, the logo prominent on the side—something that cost more than the clothing inside it—a gift from her sister. One to which Cassie likely hadn’t given much thought, or she would have gifted Melanie with something simpler and sturdier.

Cassie wasn’t intentionally thoughtless. She’d likely told an aide to buy a case and ship it to her sister, never thinking the case itself would be an issue. Cassie had always been destined to have more in life. Always simply expected it. Stunning and smart, she looked like a movie star but spoke seven languages. That Cassie wanted her to be part of her life pleased Melanie, but she knew over time, they would drift farther and farther apart. Their worlds would never intersect.

The maid continued to tidy her bedroom, so Melanie rose and moved to the suitcase she still hadn’t unpacked. She laid it open on an upholstered bench and rummaged for an outfit, nothing anywhere near elegant enough for her present surroundings—plain dark slacks and a blue, long-sleeved cotton blouse. Something appropriately demure should she be seen by any of the locals employed by her brother-in-law. “Are my sister and the ambassador still here?” She threw the question over her shoulder as she strode to the bathroom.

“They’re taking breakfast in the kitchen. You’ll catch them if you hurry.”

Glad she’d managed to drag herself from bed earlier than the day before, she hurried through her ablutions and skipped down the stairs.

Melanie took a step through the kitchen door, then quickly backed out, not wanting to interrupt the tender embrace between Cassie and Daniel. Since her arrival, she’d witnessed several such kisses, and she doubted they’d be embarrassed. She was the one with the problem. Their passion made her edgy…and a little bleak.

Daniel couldn’t help that he looked so much like his brother that every time she saw him she felt a little twinge in her chest. After three years, she would have thought the nostalgic pain had diminished, but maybe she was a one-man woman. And maybe she needed to date more. She’d never forgotten her first real crush. No other man had ever made her feel the same intense desire.

She’d met Carter Vance at her sister’s wedding. The intense attraction still mystified her. He’d barely smiled in her direction, although they’d been best man and maid of honor, and were forced into each other’s company constantly throughout the week of activities leading up to the wedding. She’d blushed and struggled to be nice to the taciturn Navy SEAL, and he’d eyed her with a look that bespoke his impatience with all the hoo-hah surrounding the marriage of her sister to the ambassador, a local celebrity in their tiny town in Texas. Because Cassie and Melanie had no family to speak of, Daniel’s father had stepped in to give the couple a wedding befitting a Vance, a proud Texas family that had owned the Rocking V Ranch since Texas became a state in the Union. His father been kind and gracious, as had his brother Lee. They’d welcomed her into the family right along with Cassie, going to the extreme of talking her into transferring from Old Miss to the University of Texas at Austin so that she could visit during her breaks. They’d even paid the remaining years of her tuition. She’d graduated just a couple of weeks ago, and now, had time to think about what she wanted to do next. Grad school? Her teacher’s certification? She hadn’t quite made up her mind, and she didn’t want to impose any longer on Mr. Vance’s generosity. She wanted to start paying her own way.

Not that he ever voiced a bit of concern over the expense of her upkeep. All the Vance family had been wonderful to her, except for Carter, Jr. The week of the wedding, she’d noted she wasn’t the only one who’d earned his steely glances. A decided chill had been in the air every time father and son came too close together. Even after all these years, she didn’t know what had caused the rift or why it mattered so much to her. Why he mattered…

She cleared her throat and entered the breakfast room again to find her sister grinning and patting her hair.

“You’re up!” Cassie turned and smiled. “You really don’t have to see us off. You should have slept in. This is your vacation.”

Melanie shook her head and made a beeline for the toddler in the high chair. “You paid for my flight to get me here. The least I can do is play nanny to this munchkin while your au pair is back in the States and you both have to work.”

Cassie laughed. “I don’t work. Today, I’m just keeping the wife of the French attaché entertained while Daniel and his staff work on…whatever it is they’re discussing,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Daniel smiled, never moving his hands from her sister’s hips or his gaze from her shining eyes. “Madame Boucher is a very exacting guest. You, my dear, will earn your husband’s undying gratitude by keeping her happy.”

Her sister scrunched her nose then glanced downward at her outfit, a very stylish olive sheath.

A color that would have made Melanie look like death warmed over, but against Cassie’s dark hair and tanned skin, made her look very sophisticated.

“The last time we met she asked me if all consulate women shopped at Tar-zhay.”

Melanie giggled then bent closer to her niece to tug at a strawberry-blonde curl. “It’s just you and me, babe. What do you say we make you a bottle and watch some Dora the Explorer?”

“Doe-wah!” Emmy squealed and reached her chubby little hands upward.

Melanie’s heart did a little flutter. Never would she have imagined loving anyone on sight, but she was surely smitten by the cherub with cereal stuck to the side of her cheek. “Let me get a cloth, and I’ll clean you up.” She headed toward the sink.

Cassie gently pushed away Daniel’s hands. “I’ll get my purse. I wouldn’t want to add the sin of being late to the long list of things that woman will complain about.”

Daniel checked his watch. “We’ve got plenty of time. Atkins scoped out an alternate route. We’ll completely miss the protesters gathering by the north gate of the embassy.”

Cassie returned, pulling on a matching olive jacket, and paused beside the high chair to pat her little girl’s hair. “Be good for Melly today, sweetie.”

“I good,” the baby said, again raising her hands, “Kissh?”

“Last time I did, you mashed your food all over my clothes.” Instead, Cassie caught one hand and drew it toward her mouth to give the tip of each chubby little finger a kiss. “Love you, sweetums.” With a flutter of her fingers toward Melanie, her sister preceded her handsome husband out the door.

With their departure, quiet fell over the kitchen. Melanie took a deep breath, feeling a little guilty about the fact she was glad they were both gone. She’d have time alone with the little one, for them to bond and for Melanie to feel more relaxed. Because hey, her brother-in-law was her country’s ambassador to this little nation and lived in a freaking mansion. Her relationship with her sister wasn’t especially close; too many years divided them.

Cassie had gotten a job in the diplomatic corps right out of college and had only been home for brief visits, the last time to attend their parents’ funerals. And although Cassie did do her best to keep in touch—calling once a week, sending lavish gifts, even buying her a small, used car—Melanie didn’t feel comfortable around her more polished and sophisticated sister. Not like she did with the baby from the first moment they’d met.

She finished wiping the little girl’s fingers clean, removed the food tray, and lifted eighteen-month-old Emmy into her arms, just as she heard car doors slam outside on the cobbled driveway. Turning with the intention of walking to the window so the baby could wave good bye to her parents, Melanie caught a bright flash of light in the corner of her eye, felt a brief moment of complete, airless silence, then felt herself hurled through the air as an explosion of sound and debris hammered against her body.

The moment lengthened, searing pain stung her cheek, and a scream rent the air. And as her arms tightened around the precious bundle still held tightly against her chest, Melanie fell into darkness.

UPDATE: The winners are…Debby and Laura!
*~*~*

I love doing flashback highlights! It’s not only a reminder to you but also to me of the many stories I’ve written. Did you know before I wrote bounty hunters that I had this entire series of SEAL-hero stories? Read an excerpt from the second “Uncharted” book!

Enjoy! ~DD

   

   

   

Click on the covers to learn more about these stories!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

What author’s older series have your recently discovered and devoured? Spread some love!

Her Next Breath

Ex-SEAL Jackson Keller’s first mission with the Charter Group’s spec ops unit is a bust. Instead of capturing a drug lord in his Mexican compound, he finds a beautiful, naked woman. But she may have information they need to nail the narco-terrorist, so he takes her, sealing his fate. She’s his to watch, his to “manage” until the op’s done.

Suri McAnally’s made some mistakes—mainly trusting her college roomie who just so happens to be the son of one of Mexico’s most dangerous drug lords. If Jackson can save her, she’ll do whatever he says, mirror his moves, and try to keep her insta-lust under control. Her next breath depends on it.

Buy at Amazon!

Excerpt from Her Next Breath…

When Suri awoke, it was to discover she was resting inside the curve of Jackson’s arm, her thigh draped over his, her head on his chest. She didn’t know who’d moved the blanket. Maybe they’d both naturally gravitated together. She hated to think she might have been the one to cross the line demarking their personal space.

Partly because she didn’t want to wake him, and partly because it was a new experience lying inside a man’s embrace, she held her breath and remained perfectly still. She breathed in his scent, which was a sagey musk combined with the remaining odor of the paint he’d worn on his face. His skin was smooth, warm, tanned and cloaked a hard, very muscular frame. Her fingertips tingled, and she very nearly gave into the temptation to run one tip over his hard abs. Instead, she curled her hand into a fist.

Last night when she’d seen him fully for the first time—without the paint, his body nearly nude—she’d felt her knees wobble. He was devastatingly handsome, not in a pretty-boy way. He was too manly, too large, all hard angles and lovely bulges, with short, nearly dark-brown hair and those cloudy gray eyes. Even the stubble on his chin made her thighs clench.

Suri hoped she didn’t sleep beside him for many more nights or she’d grow accustomed to his physique. Any man she met after this little adventure would pale in comparison.

Her glance traveled downward to the sheet barely covering his hips. Maybe it was the fold of the sheets, but the fabric was tented.

“Playing possum?”

She raised her head and met his gaze, blushing because she’d been caught staring at his sex.

“Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You’re breathing, aren’t you?” he muttered in a graveled tone.

She frowned, not understanding, and then pushed away from his body although she instantly regretted the loss of his warmth. When she’d first awoken, she’d felt sheltered, safe—and not just from Diego and his henchmen. She’d felt…cherished.

Ridiculous, she knew. And slightly pathetic. Was she really so needy for human connection that she was romanticizing over Jackson?

But in the morning light, his face wasn’t quite so hard-bitten. Scruffy, dark bristles covered his chin and jaw; his gaze rested on her rather than spearing her.

His glance cut away, and he looked at his watch. “Chow’s nearly over. We should dress.”

“I’m starved.”

The corners of his mouth twitched.

His first smile?

And then his features grew remote again, his mouth firmed. “Get dressed. I need to check in with Teague.”

Aware his gaze followed her still, she rose and stretched her arms high, and then headed to her pillow case.

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?”

She aimed a grin over her shoulder. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

His gaze narrowed, but a one-sided smile curved.

Feeling as though she’d accomplished something noteworthy, she entered the bathroom, closing the door against the temptation that was Jackson Keller.

It’s Memorial Day, and the kids are happy to be out of school. They’ll likely spend some time in the pool, and we’ll no doubt have something special for dinner. I like spending the morning watching snippets of news as older veterans head to places where they lost friends to honor them.  There’s a price for freedom. This is the day we celebrate those who gave everything for ours.

And if you haven’t read a story that shows you the importance of Memorial Day, I have one.

Read More about: In His Memory