The Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance
23 passionate stories of hard-hitting love...
Stirring romance featuring the heroes of the Navy SEALs, Delta Force, Air Force Pararescue, the Green Berets, the Army Rangers and other special forces: men and women who live and fight in extreme danger to preserve our freedoms, defenders and protectors of all we hold dear.
This collection includes the work of bestselling romance writers such as Caitlyn Nicholas, Shannon K. Butcher and Stephanie Tyler and Larissa Ione, writing as Sydney Croft. Sydney Croft’s special forces couple, Annika and Creed, work for the Agency for Covert Rare Operatives (ACRO), all of whose members have special powers, while Shannon K. Butcher’s hero is an ex-Navy SEAL. But these fighting men and women have a gentler, protective side; hard-edged weapons when on active duty, they can be caring lovers, of special forces teammates or the civilians they protect.
My story is called The Grey Man
Here's an excerpt...
Mick was half-way across the river when the downpour hit. Seconds later an odd rumble beneath his feet made him glance upstream. He had a moment to realize that there was a wall of black water hurtling towards him, before he - still attached to his forty five kilogram pack - was sucked into a churning, whirling hell. No oxygen, not even sure which way was up. His rifle was ripped out of his hands by the torrent.
It was three am.
Somewhere in a river in the depths of the Liquica district of East Timor.
And he was about to drown.
Screw that.
The need for oxygen began to nag.
His webbing vest, loaded down with ammunition, and the backpack were making it almost impossible to get to the surface. He tried to drag the backpack off, but something cannoned into the side of him with bruising force, knocking the remaining air out of his lungs and sending his arm numb and clumsy.
He broke the surface and dragged in a desperate breath before being sucked back underwater.
Finally the backpack came off and he struggled upwards again. In the manner of flash-floods, the torrent was ebbing around him and it was easier to surface this time. He tried to get his bearings, but it was pitch black. The gush of water eased more, solid ground scraped beneath his boots. He kicked sideways, found his feet, and within seconds managed to crawl onto the muddy shore. Panting heavily. He was torn between frustration that he’d just potentially screwed up their mission and relief that he was out of the water and not dead.
Below his elbow his left arm felt prickly and strange.
The cloud cleared as quickly as it’d appeared and a huge gibbous moon lit the area. He pushed himself up to sitting and examined the damage as best he could. Blood - he could smell its sharp metallic odour - and quite a lot of it. Black on his fingers. His forearm had been laid open from his elbow to his hand, and a gash spiraled across the veins of his wrist.
“Bugger.”
He downgraded ‘not dead’ to ‘not dead yet.’
