Teaser Tuesday: Call to Action


PLUS, FREE BONUS BOOK: Rules of Engagement

Here’s an excerpt from CALL TO ACTION

“Dude, I can’t believe you ditched the Army for the Navy. Why would you do that?”

“SEALs are Navy,” Ellison pointed out with an amused look.


Army Specialist Rico Santiago wanted to toss that out, but he knew it’d prove just how lame his argument was. Ellison had left the army after his last tour, gone through extensive training and busted his ass during Hell Week, then passed BUD/S. A guy didn’t do that if he wasn’t planning to follow through.

Especially not a guy like Ellison, whose personal motto went something like See, Do, Win. The guy was bulldog stubborn, setting his sights on a goal and busting his ass until it was his.

Rico admired that. Hell, he was like that. Which was probably why the two of them got along so well. They thought alike, they fought alike. They’d served together for four years, ever since Ellison transferred into Rico’s EOD unit at Ft. Irwin, the two of them teamed up as Counter-IED specialists.

The guy was good. Innovated, dedicated and focused. They worked well together. He hated that Ellison was leaving the unit, hell, the branch. But did he have to move away, too?

Rico wasn’t a sentimental man, but he wanted to shout out, what about friendship? Was that done, too? Was this last visit to the barracks to gather the few things he’d left behind really the end of their time together?

Arms crossed over his khaki-covered chest, Rico stared, unseeingly, at the drab barracks wall.

“Don’t you get seasick?” he asked, inspired and not ready to give up.

“I used to get sick as a dog.” Jack Ellison looked up from the olive drab duffle he’d just zipped closed. “When I decided to go for a SEAL trident, I started adaption treatment. You know, like exposure therapy.”

“Say what?” Rico frowned.

“Mostly with one of those rotary chairs like the astronauts use.” Ellison swung the duffle over his shoulder and jerked his head toward the door. As Rico strode out alongside him, he continued. “But I supplemented standard therapy. Boats, busses, reading in the car.”

The guy was puking his guts up for duty. Rico gave a sad shake of his head as they stepped out the door. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t step in?

“Let’s go,” was all he said, though. “Gina’s making a special dinner to celebrate your kicking BUD/S ass.”

Rico figured his wife would have some ideas to keep Ellison around. After all, there was nobody sneakier than his Gina.







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