Friday, November 14, 2014

SEAL's Promise by Sharon Hamilton: Excerpt & Video

SEAL's Promise: Bad Boys of Team 3
(SEAL Brotherhood, Book 8)
by Sharon Hamilton

Genres: SEALs, Military, Suspense, Contemporary Romance
Special Operator T.J. Talbot had watched from afar as his best friend married the love of his life. Raised in and out of the foster care system and nearly ruining his chance to become a SEAL, he figured his Happily Ever After would never be. But Dr. Death plays a heartbreaking trick on him and he winds up being the man’s father confessor, where he makes a promise to the dying SEAL to look after his friend’s wife and baby.
Back in the states, Shannon Moore is grateful for the baby she is carrying, though she is a constant reminder of the man who no longer lives at her side. She is not ready for the attention from the community she receives, especially from T.J. She’s decided to honor her fallen husband by giving her whole life to the child he left behind.
Recovering from his wounds, Talbot is plagued by the depth of the wounds he still carries inside him, as he tries to perform a mission he wishes he was not given. Rebuffed at every turn, he struggles but understands his promise might not be able to be fulfilled. He does not want to take what was never given to him in the first place.
But what starts out as an improbable love story begins to bloom and grow. When Shannon and the child are endangered, he will not quit fighting for the family he now knows he was meant to love forever.
He pulled out the partially opened carton, taking what he could manage without dropping pieces. A bag of screws fell at his feet, and he cursed but picked them up without dropping the wooden panels of the playhouse.

Shannon had already opened the front door when he got there. Her eyebrows were knitted into a frown. She inspected the pieces of wood under his arm and then looked up at him with questions she seemed unable to verbalize.

“Every princess deserves her own house. A play house,” T.J. said as he lifted his shoulder to draw attention to the playhouse pieces.

“This is a play house or a doll house?”

“I think it’s a play house.”

“You are aware she won’t be able to play with dolls for probably at least two years.” 

“So, it will wait for her, then. Maybe in the meantime you can use it.” He tried to smile, but the blush on her face and the fullness of her belly was too powerfully distracting. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was the first pregnant woman he’d been within ten feet of. 

Ribbons of jazz came from the house.

“I can just put this in the back yard, if today isn’t a good day. I can come back another time to put this together, but I have time to get it done today, if you’re willing.”

“I hadn’t even gotten to thinking about what she would play with once she’s walking. You do know they have to be born first, start crawling, and then walk, in order to use an outside playhouse?” Her frown marks were easing, and a small, a very tiny smile formed on her lips as she told him non-verbally she appreciated that he’d thought of the baby. He liked that he’d been able think of something she hadn’t yet. 

So far so good. 

She opened the door, gesturing him inside. He knew where the door to the back yard was, through the master bedroom at the back of the house. Once inside, he saw her unmade bed, the glass of water by the nightstand. A book was lying facedown on the table. 

“Did I wake you from a nap?” he asked as he walked past the bed.

“No. I was up getting a snack and heard your truck pull up.” She opened the sliding glass door and allowed him to walk in front of her into the yard.

She’d planted flowers along the edge of the lawn, ones which had not been there when he visited Frankie before their last deployment. The day of the funeral, he hadn’t followed the others to her house for the reception, preferring to linger a little longer at the cemetery. He’d had private thoughts he wanted to share with his Team buddy.

The yard looked happier than he remembered. He was glad to see Shannon had maintained everything like before Frankie was gone. He’d seen a number of wives fall to pieces, not that he blamed them. But Shannon had moved forward, and seemed steady. 

He knew she was still hurting inside, but she didn’t let one ounce of it show. He figured it was probably since she had made no secret of her dislike for him. Well, maybe he could change that a bit. Maybe it could bring her a bit of relief 

He laid out the pieces, putting the screws and washers on a corner of the box it came in. He was crosschecking the parts to the manifest. He discovered there were several bags of screws missing.

He began tracing his footsteps across the lawn.

“What are you looking for?”

“I think I may have dropped a few things. Any tiny bags of screws or wooden dowels?”

“I’ll go look, but didn’t notice any.” She disappeared from the screen door, returning a few minutes later carrying a glass of ice water. “Nope. Not a thing.” She slipped out through the slider and stepped down onto the concrete patio in her bare feet…with those hot pink toes he was having such a hard time ignoring. 

“Here,” she said holding out the glass.

“Thanks.” He drank the whole thing, a bit of the cooling water sluicing down his neck and into the ribbing at the top of his T-shirt. He took a mouthful of ice and began crunching it as he handed the glass back to her.

Shannon watched him, expressionless, and said nothing.

He put together what he could, and figured he’d find the fasteners for the rest later. A couple of times he’d put the wrong side out. He cursed at the instructions, and decided they’d probably been translated from Chinese. At one point he discovered there was an important triangular-shaped piece missing, one supposed to hold up parts of the roof. Just gone. He had one side, but not the other. 

A couple of times the angle of two panels he’d screwed together was compromised, and collapsed. If he’d been home, he’d had destroyed the whole thing, kicked it around, bent and broken it further, and tossed it in the garbage. But this was Shannon and Frankie’s house, and this was for their baby, and dammit, he was going to get this done.

So much for playing hero. The pieces were so messed up he didn’t know where to start. He sat down and concentrated on them, hoping a solution would present itself, like magic.

Fuck it.

When he was about to give up, he heard the sliding glass door pull open again, and this time out walked Frankie’s dad, with his tool belt on, and a red canvas hand tools caddy in his left hand. 

“Shannon said I should come and do a rescue on this mission,” Joe Benson said flatly. 

T.J. winced, but it was the truth. “Yup. I do believe we have a problem, Houston.”

“Well I’m good at fixin’ problems. Let’s see what you got there,” Benson said as he squatted down to peer at the roof and corners.

T.J. turned his back to the house and began showing Joe what he’d figured out, but he felt Shannon’s eyes on him. 

He kind of liked it.
SEAL - Author Photo
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 will release 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.

Her Golden Vampires of Tuscany are not like any vamps you’ve read before, since they don’t have to go to ground, and can walk around in the full light of the sun. Honeymoon Bite, Book 1 of the Golden Vampires of Tuscany Series, has earned the Amazon designation of #1 Gothic Romance. It and Book 2 in the series, Mortal Bite are both available on audio as well.

Her Guardian Angels struggle with the human charges they are sent to save, often escaping their vanilla world of Heaven for the brief human one. You won’t find any of these beings in any Sunday school class.

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"

1 comment:

  1. Thank you so much, Carly, for having me here. You have such a beautiful blog and I love what you've done here. Thank you! I'll stop by to see if we have anyone with questions. I'm always generous with gifts, so ask away, and maybe I'll send you some SWAG. I've got red wristbands we wear on Fridays to support the troops. If you need one, PM me on Facebook. Enjoy!!