Under Control
Danica has no choice but to trust her ex-Navy-SEAL bodyguard, so she can’t let her defenses down or fall in love—no matter what.
All I’ve ever done is run. I’ve had no choice. It’s just run or die. My family is ruthless.
But then everything changed. He showed up. Protecting me, challenging me, teaching me… I don’t know what to think about this former Navy SEAL. I’ve never had a bodyguard before.
I’ve never been with a man before, either.
He represents a lot of firsts for me.
The only problem is that the harder I fall, the faster he pulls away. There’s something in his past he won’t tell me. Something dark.
He says he’ll never fall in love again.
But, for me, it’s too late. I’ve never felt these intense feelings before, and I’m terrified. What I feel for him seems dangerous. I may have no choice but to run again—if it’s not too late—because I’ve realized that my heart is firmly under his control.
Under Pressure
He stole her heart then left without a goodbye. A year later and he’s back, telling her she needs protection—but the only protection she wants is from him.
The pre-deployment fling Navy SEAL Matteo ‘Delta’ Valente couldn’t forget has tortured him for his entire tour. A year later, Delta thought he was over it. Finally, he gets home, but runs into Kendra Larose again. It has been so long—but not long enough. With one look, she stirs something inside him that he’d tried to lock up after all those nights thinking of her, sleeping in dirt with nothing but his helmet for a pillow.
The problem he quickly realizes is that she’s in real danger. Delta’s instincts prove too powerful to override.
Kendra isn’t so convinced. Delta has just shown up, out of nowhere, with big claims that she’s in danger and needs protection? Kendra wants to see the hard evidence. She’s hated him ever since he didn’t call. She’d fallen hard, and he’d broken her heart with no apparent remorse.
A forensic specialist working for LAPD, Kendra has blood samples to run in the lab to get to the bottom of her latest case. The thing that becomes apparent is that her case intersects a little too neatly with Delta. She can’t quite figure out whose side he is on, why he’s back in her life and whether she can trust him or not. So, she keeps one big secret close to her chest.
Under Fire
What happens when you buy the girlfriend experience for one week?
Warren Cameron doesn’t stop. A Navy SEAL leading chief, he works damn hard and expects the same of his men. Yet, his hardcore mentality has got him losing touch with his troops, sinking morale. That can’t fly, but he can’t seem to fix it.
An opportunity falls across his lap—his cleaning lady, Alisa Kelly. She’s new, she’s game and he doesn’t fail to notice her long, tanned legs as she reaches to dust. A heated struggle opens the door to a mutually pleasing deal. For one week, he’ll pay her to give him the girlfriend experience, help him attend some work parties that he’d otherwise hate and be a more personable boss. Everyone wins.
Somewhere in there, Warren finds himself enjoying the company of the mysterious Alisa a little too much to be safe. What’s supposed to be a sexy pre-deployment fling becomes something else entirely. She’s the type of enigma he can’t resist, even knowing that they’ve got an expiration date.
Electric chemistry drives Alisa to do the unthinkable—fall into what she ought to run from. But Warren’s strong, dominating presence makes her feel something she hasn’t in a long time, not with her head stuck in a textbook, studying for med school final exams. Warren makes her feel protected, adored. With her controlling, jerk fiancé on the opposite coast for a spell, she lets down her hair to live a little, sinking into the short, secretive affair.
What he doesn’t know…can’t hurt her.
General Release Date: 30th January 2024
“Moose, hold up. I haven’t cleared the area,” Delta called out to the man jumping out of the passenger side of the armored black SUV.
Former Navy SEAL and decorated war hero Carrick Byrne tilted his head back, giving Delta the usual ‘don’t even start’ expression.
“Relax, big rig. This is just a little ‘find and retrieve’ contract,” Carrick said in a skeptical voice tinted with the slightest Irish accent as he leaned back into the idling SUV. “I don’t think we need to worry about one little girl.”
Delta narrowed his brown eyes, and a lock of his slicked-back dark-blond fell onto his unimpressed face. “She’s been on the run for years. Don’t underestimate her.”
Carrick looked around with obvious sarcasm at the fact that they were literally about to walk through a park on their way to finish the job. Glancing back, Carrick raised his eyebrow to his friend, recognizing the face of someone who wanted to punch him.
“Come on. How much trouble could one chick cause?”
“Your client seems to think she can cause a lot of trouble,” Delta reminded him. “And our intelligence suggests the same. She’s slippery, Carrick—and I don’t think your client is very forgiving.”
“Don’t overdramatize this,” Carrick warned. “This is a nothing contract.”
The two strong, opinionated men exchanged looks before Delta backed off, seemingly knowing that at the end of the day, Carrick was the CEO of Sea-to-Sky Security.
“Have it your way,” Delta said, leaning back. “You’re the boss.”
Moving away from the SUV, Carrick slung his old black hockey skates over his shoulder, heading toward the rink. He flipped up the collar of his black work coat, even further concealing his identity. He had a target to follow. Years of urban reconnaissance and black ops had given him more than enough tactical training to handle the job.
Popping a black baseball hat on and smoothing back his black hair that was peppered with gray, the dark Irish-American moved stealthily.
Delta took off behind him with gusto, but Carrick didn’t care. He just needed to get the job done and over with, then move on to the next one. It should be in and out—quick and easy. Those were the types of cases Carrick needed to build his client base and his reputation as the premiere private security firm in LA.
And, damn it, he was going to do the best job he could—because after losing everything that mattered to him, this new business venture was all he had left.
Carrick focused on the scene before him. The crowd had thinned. It was growing quiet. As he came up to the skating rink, a young couple passed him on the other side of the pathway leading out of the park. They seemed happy—in love. His only instinct was to scowl, and he pulled down the brim of his hat farther as he stooped to put on his skates.
The target was on the ice. It was time to get closer.
Then retrieve.
Out on the rink, it was nearing closing time, and everyone was clearing out. He was the only one heading in. Good. He needed the space. It was much easier to keep eyes on the target.
At least, that was what he told himself. He wouldn’t admit it, but at that moment—Valentine’s Day night—he wanted nothing else than to have a reason to be alone—alone and away from everything to do with his life, away from the memories. Is this my second Valentine’s Day alone? He shuddered, pushing the thought aside. That wasn’t something he was prepared to feel.
He didn’t have to. The girl was in sight.
Hockey skates on, Carrick moved hard down the bumpy outdoor ice—as hard as the restrictive leather strap of his shoulder holster would allow. Wearing a pistol was like wearing boxers. He did it every day, no matter what. It had come to feel like a second skin.
Keeping his eyes on the ice, not on her, his blood pumped to his engorged muscles and a sated grin crossed his lips. There were very few things in life that served to alleviate his stress—hockey being one. The other was a similar cardio-exhausting exercise that elevated his endorphins, pumped his blood and left him satisfied and spent.
Pushing forward, he observed her—the lone woman skating in the opposite direction, once again nearing his position. Her long brown hair had escaped her pink toque, and her warm breath visibly illustrated her panting chest, even from afar. Carrick had to admit that her form was more than pleasing to look at. Athletic and swift—he didn’t doubt she could give him a run for his money in a race, but he kept his gaze down. He made sure to give her enough space so that he wouldn’t scare her away.
Danica Petrova.
As she was skating past him, he stole one glance of her face, locking eyes. He had to see her face in person. All he’d seen was a picture.
He wasn’t disappointed.
Her red cheeks flashed at him and her eyes sparkled. So youthful and full of life. What he’d seen in a blink of an eye held the promise of an eternity of pleasure as he took in her beautiful face.
But then, in an instant, just as her body floated by him, her skate hit a groove in the ice, an unmistakable sound—and common. Turning immediately, he thrust forward and reached out, catching the young woman as she fell. He quickly heaved her back onto her skates, rescuing her from a hard fall. As he held her, she fluttered her dark lashes at him, enchanting and stunning him.
“You okay?” he asked, looking her over, hoping she hadn’t been hurt.
“I’m okay.” A sweet, feminine voice escaped her full lips.
Holding her close, he realized that her eyes hadn’t been sparkling. They were wet.
Has she been crying?
“I just caught an edge,” she explained, like she’d been caught doing something wrong. “Thank you.”
As she made to push away from his arms, he realized that he had been still holding her all this time. I never let her go.
She frowned as she probably realized the same thing. He released his grip on her thick sweater, letting her float back a foot into her own space. Silence filled the rink. Their gazes did not break, and she continued to blink at him, likely assessing him, given the look in her eyes.
There was something distrustful about the way she was evaluating him. Her body language screamed that she was scared and threatened that she was about to run. Before thinking, he threw out his hand, just knowing she was just about to pop smoke and disappear—and knowing he couldn’t allow that. His client had warned him that she was a runner—and that she could slip out of any situation.
His client had also warned him of the importance of not letting her go.
“Carrick,” he introduced himself, keeping her there.
She took his hand, though hers remained limp, and she retracted it right way. Clearly, she didn’t know what to make of him—but her manners shone through.
“Dani.”
Cute. She seemed very sweet, and not at all like the client had described. That was the first thing that brought on his suspicion that something might be wrong and not as he’d been led to believe.
“Nice to meet you,” he replied with a little more meaning than he’d expected.
She responded slow and shy, her voice cracking, “I really do appreciate you saving me from the fall.”
“Forget it.” He shrugged as instinct urged him to back off a little.
But the caveman inside him couldn’t take his eyes off her. Lithe and pert, she almost glowed under the soft lights. There was something different about this target. She continued averting her gaze, looking down at the hard ice and shaking her pretty heart-shaped face.
Something was brewing in his mind that he was unwilling to accept, and his strategy shifted. This was not how he’d planned the operation to go, but he had to adjust on the fly—right?
Carrick checked his watch and turned in the direction she was going. “Heading this way? Last five minutes.”
He motioned, nearly regretting it as he did. Really, he knew better. They didn’t have time for leisurely skating.
“I was.” Her words poured out nervously, responding to his invitation. “But…”
“You aren’t anymore?”
“I mean, I am.” She toyed with her gray sweater buttons as she looked away, seemingly just as conflicted as him. She was a smart little coyote, and he wondered if she was ready to bolt.
She is definitely ready to bolt.
“Well, let’s go then.” He took the lead, pushing off the ice and gliding away from her.
I’m a mom with three sweet young daughters. I have three jobs - mom, author, and analyst. Years ago, I grew up in a military family, went to a military university, worked alongside the military as an intel analyst, and my husband is (surprise!) a veteran. I’ve tried to write for anyone who wants to feel what it’s like to be with someone from that world - with all the good and the bad.
My heroes are grounded in reality, and are inspired by guys I know in the special forces. Guys who’ve been in combat, tasted war, and fought for what they believed in. They are really heroes, but raw and rough and broken in their own ways.
My heroines similarly come from the best parts of the women I know, and the challenges we all face. The relationships that they fall into have familiar characteristics for many, myself included. These heroines represent all of us, with our good and our bad laid bare.
In my stories, I illustrate, romanticize, and celebrate the harsh realities of duty, service, and sacrifice.
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