A SEAL's Seduction

By: Tawny Weber

Subject: Navy SEAL Lieutenant Blake Landon

Current Status: Two weeks of enforced leave

Mission: Distract himself in any way possible

Obstacle: A woman who tempts him to break the rules...including his own!

Navy SEAL Blake Landon (aka “Boy Scout”) knows the rule book inside and out. Checked. Rechecked. But when a mission ends badly, his entire team is ordered on leave. And that’s when Blake sees the tall redhead whose dark eyes suggest that the rules—especially those in bed—are made to be broken.

Scientist Alexia Lane has sex on the brain—partly for work, but mostly because she needs a man who makes her girly parts do the happy dance. Her only no-no? No military dudes. But Blake’s rockin’ bod promises delicious pleasures, and Alexia is halfway to sexual Nirvana before she can find out he’s actually a Navy SEAL.

And where one rule is broken, more are sure to follow….

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by Kira Sinclair

January 2013

Dear Reader,

I adore hot heroes. And I think Blake Landon definitely qualifies. His dedication to his country, his service and his friends are almost as sexy as his rock-hard body and gorgeous smile. He’s perfect for Alexia, especially since he forces her to do the one thing she believes in so strongly for others, but avoids for herself—healing her past.

Alexia is a strong woman who follows her heart and believes in grabbing life with both hands. But can she let herself fall in love with a guy who breaks the two absolute rules she’s set for her love life? He’s military, and he’s not only similar to her estranged father…he’s her father’s protégé.

I loved writing this story and bringing two such powerful, strong-willed characters together and watching them rescue each other. I hope you enjoy their journey, too.

And if you’re on the web, I hope you’ll stop by and visit. I’ll be sharing Blake’s breakfast recipe on my website, and insider peeks into this story and others. Stop by my website at www.TawnyWeber.com or find me on Facebook.

Happy reading!

Tawny Weber


And they who for their country die shall fill an honored grave, for glory lights the soldier’s tomb, and beauty weeps the brave...

—Joseph Drake

A LOUD BLAST FILLED the air as seven guns exploded in succession. Once, twice, thrice. Twenty-one shots. Faces implacable, the honor guard shouldered their guns and stood as tall and rigid as the oaks lining the cemetery.

The echoing silence broke when the bugler sounded taps. Lieutenant Blake Landon stood at attention, his eyes narrowed against the bright morning sun. The chaplain’s words of honor, bravery and sacrifice rolled over him like the gentle breeze, teasing, hinting but not really making an impact.

There was no mention of Phil’s sense of humor, of how he always carried a rubber snake on missions to break the tension. That he’d hit a McDonald’s the minute they were stateside for a bagful of French fries. The chaplain didn’t know that before jumping from a plane, Phil always kissed his mother’s picture, then rubbed a rabbit foot. He wouldn’t mention Phil’s love for the beach. It didn’t matter how godforsaken hot their assignment might have been, the minute he was off duty, he’d hit the beach—sun, surf and girls in bikinis. He’d often said those were his reward for getting shot at on a regular basis.

But that wasn’t the Phil they were honoring right now.

Here, at Arlington National Cemetery, Lieutenant Phil Hawkins was a soldier. Here, the sacred tradition of honoring the noble warrior focused on service, dedication and sacrifice to country.

The entire SEAL platoon in attendance, Blake stood shoulder to shoulder with his team. His squadmates. The men he served with, fought with, trained with. Prepared to offer up the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

Later tonight, they’d all celebrate Phil, the man. Their squadmate, buddy, friend. The Joker.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes glancing off the flag-draped casket, then shifting to the distant trees again when the captain began the ritual of folding the red, white and blue material. As the chaplain offered his final words of comfort, the captain gently placed the folded flag into Mrs. Hawkins’s hands.

Blake’s focus locked on that triangle of fabric and didn’t waver as the funeral finished. The people around him moved, shifted, left. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

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