by Leslie Jones
I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Sharon Hamilton at a writer’s conference earlier this year. Despite difficulties with the conference itself, I was thrilled to meet one of my favorite military romantic suspense authors. Last week on Veterans Day, as we celebrated the heroism and sacrifices of our men and women who have honorably served their country, I was thrilled to be a part of the release of SEAL’s Promise. Here is a taste of what you can expect from Sharon’s latest SEAL Brotherhood book:
In the silence of the truck cab, he thought he heard Frankie laughing at him. Big, tough SEAL, afraid to talk to a woman. But she was Frankie’s woman, and she was six months pregnant. The facts were stacked against him. She was fragile, so he couldn’t tell her off if she got too inappropriate, which he was sure she would. She’d lost her husband, so she didn’t deserve to be treated in any way other than like the lady she most certainly was, and she hated him with everything in her soul because of all the shit T.J. had caused her and her dead husband.
Maybe he should get Lansdowne to have one of the other Team guys return Frankie’s belongings. Would it have been any easier to give it to his parents? That he could probably have done without any trouble at all, but Shannon. Shannon didn’t deserve this.
He dialed her number and hoped like hell she wasn’t home.
But he wasn’t that lucky.
“Hey, Shannon. How’re you holding up?” His voice was raspy and it cracked like a boy of seventeen.
“How do you suppose I’m holding up, T.J.? You calling to say you’re sorry or to give me a hard time?”
Her abruptness was her method, he realized, of keeping her distance, from everyone. He’d heard the other wives talk about how they had trouble getting close to her.
“No, even I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, the day is young. Give it time. I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to be an asshole before you go to bed.”
That unfair statement pulled the plug on his anger. It was like the girls in grammar school who would call him names because they knew he wasn’t allowed to push them back. Why was it was okay for a girl to use verbal violence, but he wasn’t allowed to protect himself by making them hurt in return? Some therapist’s idea of the right order of the world. Probably a jerk who didn’t know his ass from an anthill.
“You’re entitled to your opinion. I might add that Frankie didn’t share that opinion, not that it should make a fuck’s difference to you.” He was satisfied he’d delivered a slap and not a full on blow to the chops.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me, T.J.” She breathed heavily into the phone. “Okay, look, I’m not at my best, so what is it you called about? You must have had something in mind.”
“I have his things, and the Navy wants me to deliver them to you.”
“I’ll be gone tomorrow after noon. Why don’t you drop it by the house then, anytime after twelve. It should be safe on the porch for a couple of hours until I get home.”
“I could meet you where you’re going.”
“Seriously, T.J. I don’t want you anywhere near my OB. I don’t want to be reminded that all my husband’s things are being handed over to me for their safekeeping or whatever. I’d like not to burst into tears in front of a waiting room filled with a bunch of emotional mothers-to-be and their scared-shitless husbands.”
“I get your drift.”
“You can leave it on the rocking chair on the front porch.”
“I’ll do that, then.”
“Okay, we’re done?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Thanks for dropping the stuff off. Should I leave anything for you? Anything in there you want for yourself?”
“God, Shannon, I haven’t even looked at anything much. I know about a few letters of yours in there. That’s about it.”
“No selfies in there?”
“Um, Frankie never took pictures of himself.”
“No, asshole. I sent him a few naked selfies. I want those back.”
Oh, those. He’d completely forgotten what fun they’d had with Shannon’s selfies. Truth was, some of the guys would sneak them from under Frankie’s bed and pass them around quarters while he was taking a shower. The last round had happened so fast, and then they were traveling, so T.J. still had the picture of Shannon in his shaving kit and hadn’t had the heart to tell Frankie.
He certainly wasn’t going to tell Shannon now.
Sharon’s NYT and USA Today bestselling novels are almost-erotic Navy SEAL stories of the SEAL Brotherhood. Her characters follow a spicy road to redemption through passion and true love. This series continues with book 8, SEAL’s Promise, which releases today, on Veteran’s Day, November 11, 2014. All of her SEAL Brotherhood Series are available in audio book. She has maintained an Amazon top 100 author status in Romantic Suspense since the end of 2012.
Sharon lives in Sonoma County, California, with her husband and two Dobermans. A lifelong organic gardener, when she’s not writing, she’s getting verra verra dirty in the mud, or wandering Farmer’s Markets looking for new Heirloom varieties of vegetables and flowers.
“True Love Heals in the Gardens of the Heart”