Hot SEAL, Open Arms is Finished and due to release October 25th!!

 Fall is here! And I've finished Hot SEAL, Open Arms.  It has been a journey. Family illness has really made things a struggle since I'm the only caregiver available. Writing the book has been my escape from those difficulties. But it's done and I'm thrilled with it.




Navy SEAL Wyatt Taylor is facing the hardest decision of his life—what the hell to do now he can no longer be a SEAL. Besides his bum arm, he also has a bad attitude, because in his opinion nothing he’ll ever do again will live up to his life as a SEAL. But now his savings are dwindling and his team has deployed without him, he knows he has to move on. 

Kinley Green is living her dream.  She’s worked with horses for years, training them, caring for them, and riding them. And now with a grant in hand, she’s finally able to put her horses and her expertise with disabled children to use on a working ranch. 

When Wyatt Taylor walks in with his killer smile asking for a job, she sees trouble… But he knows horses and has intimate knowledge of what disability is all about.  And she does need the help.
 
But when trouble strikes, threatening her business, her horses and her life… Will he prove to be the right man for the job? 

And here's an excerpt!!

The Chinook motor’s high metallic whine chanted in unison with the staccato sound of blades cutting through the air above them.

Wyatt’s attention moved restlessly about the fuselage as voices traveled above the hum. Wilder and Needles had a back-and-forth going. He couldn’t hear the details, but based on Wilder’s expression, Javier was living up to his nickname and needling him about something.

Thor was strapped into one of the seats, arms crossed, legs braced, taking a fifteen-minute power nap. The guy was unshakable and oblivious to the noise.

Stefan’s Brooklyn-accented voice cut into Wilder and Javier’s conversation as he joined them.

Bishop and Hogan seemed to be lost in their own thoughts while they waited.

The two SEALs who’d been tacked onto their team, Staples and Norman, sat together. The two earned their tridents six months before and were as yet untested in combat. Why on earth the head shed decided a rescue mission would be a good way for the two to bust their cherries made no sense. But to question that decision was way above Wyatt’s pay grade.

“Ten minutes until the drop site,” the pilot’s voice came over the com system.

Wyatt withdrew the photo from one of his vest pockets and took a final look at the picture of the couple. He looked like an average guy, clean cut, early forties, doctor. She was a nurse and a looker. Dark hair, even features, pretty. He hoped that hadn’t worked against her.

These people had to have balls of steel to travel to one of the most volatile countries in Niger on a humanitarian mission. The armed gangs and terrorists who ruled the country took hostages all the time…as Drew and Nancy Monahan recently learned the hard way. And now the team was going in to recover them. Hopefully in one piece.

The pilot’s voice came over the com system. “Drop site in five.”

Wyatt tucked the picture back in place.

Senior Chief Ramon’s voice came through his com. “Fall in. Keep your spacing. You don’t want to crowd the guy beside you.” He’d be the one to call them off at the top of the ropes as they rappelled forty feet to the bottom on separate, side-by-side lines.

Wyatt put on his tactical gloves and fell in line. Senior Chief yelled out “Go.” Team Leader Stefan Kowalski and Thor hit the rope first. Ty and Mason went next, then Javier and Wilder. Banger stepped off with Norton the newbie, leaving Wyatt paired with Staples.

At Senior Chief’s yell, Wyatt grabbed the line, pushed off, dropped beneath the Chinook, and started down. Even with his tactical gloves the friction of the rope heated his palms. He was aware of Staples’ movements just above and to the left of him just before he left him behind.

Fifteen feet from the bottom, a disturbance of the air, a flash, a shadow bearing down on him on the left had him gripping the line hard. A body traveling at momentum struck his shoulder. The pain was sharp and deep, but he barely had a second to give voice to it before being ripped off the line.

The hard-packed desert rose up to meet him. He landed hard atop a body, his arm beneath him and yelped in pain as his elbow popped.

Sand whipped around him from the propellers of the Chinook blowing the particles into his face. Wyatt rolled off the man beneath him and cried out again when his arm flopped. He cradled it with his right hand to hold it in place and keep it stable.

“Easy, Rodeo. Just lie still.” Kowalski hit his com button. “Staples fell and dragged Taylor off the line. We have two injured men and we need evac for both.”

The Chinook banked and moved away.

Wyatt clenched his eyes shut and fought back a wave of nausea and the need to cry out with pain while Ty unbuckled the straps on his pack and slipped them off over his shoulders. At least having the weight of the pack off eased the pain and nausea—as long as he didn’t move.

“Rodeo, I need you to answer some questions for me,” Javier’s voice dragged Wyatt’s eyes open. The man was one of the best medics the team ever had.

“Did you hit your head or hurt your neck?” he asked while he was running his fingers down Wyatt’s neck.

“No, but my arm feels like it’s been ripped off.”

Javier ran careful hands over his shoulder and elbow while Wyatt gritted his teeth against the agony of even that careful pressure.

“Your shoulder and elbow are dislocated, Rodeo, and I can’t put them back in. It might cause more damage.”

Javier was soft-pedaling it. Wyatt’s arm felt like it wasn’t even part of his body.

“I’m going to give you a shot of morphine to take the edge off.”

Thank God. Gritting his teeth against the pain wasn’t cutting it.

He barely felt the needle go into his arm. The meds hit his system, the agony eased, and he was able to turn his thoughts to something else. “Is Staples okay?”

“You slowed his fall, but he’s broken his leg and he probably has a concussion.”

“Better that than dying.” Had the damn FNG fallen from thirty feet he’d never have survived. The sand in this dry African desert was packed like concrete.

“We’re going to load you back on the Chinook and they’re going to take you back to base for medical treatment. You’re going to be okay.”

“Fuck! What about the mission?” The Team would be going into the rescue two men short.

“It’ll be okay, Rodeo,” Mason said. “We got this.”

He held onto that thought for the next five minutes while Javier stabilized his arm by wrapping it tight against his body. Ty and Thor put a splint on Staples’ leg.

Ty got on the radio. The Chinook circled back and lowered a transport basket.

Strapped into the basket Wyatt let the morphine lull him. Ty gave his good shoulder a squeeze and yelled into his ear above the thunder of the chopper. “We’ll see you when we get back to base, Rodeo.”

“Watch your six,” Wyatt said.

The world spun as the basket rose to meet the open side door of the chopper. Wyatt closed his eyes, the movement making him nauseous. The flight crew wrestled the basket inside and secured it to the bulkhead.

They lowered the next basket for Staples. Three minutes to load them, then the Chinook turned south back to base.

From beside him, Staples’ voice came to him. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“We’re both going to come back from this, Staples.” It was just a dislocated shoulder and elbow. He’d recover from these injures and be back with his team in a few months.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt! 

And thanks for reading. 

Remember Hot SEAL, Open Arms will be out October 25th!! 

Read On,
Teresa Reasor 



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