The Seal's Return
This is the home he never expected…With a terrifying ordeal behind him, former navy SEAL Jubal Pierce was supposed to stay in Covenant Falls, Colorado, for only a day or two. That's it. He’s not prepared to put down roots here—no matter how intriguing the town’s new doctor happens to be. Not to mention Dr. Lisa Redding's teen brother is on a troubled path that's all too familiar. Suddenly Jubal finds himself entangled in the community and with deep, unfamiliar feelings for Lisa. But maybe a little detour is just what a warrior needs to find his true purpose…and true love.
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This is the home he never expected...
With a terrifying ordeal behind him, former navy SEAL Jubal Pierce was supposed to stay in Covenant Falls, Colorado, for only a day or two. Thatâs it. Heâs not prepared to put down roots hereâno matter how intriguing the townâs new doctor happens to be. Not to mention Dr. Lisa Reddingâs teen brother is on a troubled path thatâs all too familiar. Suddenly Jubal finds himself entangled in the community and with deep, unfamiliar feelings for Lisa. But maybe a little detour is just what a warrior needs to find his true purpose...and true love.
âDo you always go around saving dogs and kids?â
Jubal looked directly into Lisaâs eyes. âEmotions get you killed.â It was said in that same matter-of-fact voice, but the tightening of his jaw emphasized the words.
âAre you staying in the army?â
âNavy, Doc,â he corrected, making it plain there was a huge difference. âNo, Iâve been separated, but I donât intend to stay in a rocking chair.â
The room seemed to shrink. The air between them was suddenly charged... Lisa could almost smell the ozone. Her face flamed, and heat surged through her, fueling a raw hunger.
She was only too aware he was almost naked, that his body was too near to hers, his breath too close...
It is so good to be writing you again. I appreciate each and every one of you more than I can express.
I thought this time I would say something about the writing process, or at least my writing process, because it was so important to this book.
When I start a book, I know who my two main characters are. I know everything that happened to them through childhood, adolescence and adulthood. I live in their heads.
Then I let them run free on the pages. My original premise changes. The plot changes. The end changes. Events happen that I never expected.
Never has charactersâ drive been as strong as in this book. I had no idea how the story would end when I started it. What possibly could satisfy an eighteen-year navy SEAL who lost his very identity after a mission gone bad and two years held as a hostage? I could only hope that Jubal would find his own way.
And then one day he was running as he did every morning, and his lifeâand Lisaâsâchanged. It surprised me as much as it did Jubal. I hope you love the iconic loner as much as I do.
And Lisa? Could she give up the goal sheâd had since a child, one that had ruled her life for the past ten years? I wasnât sure myself.
I hope you love both as much as I do.
Patricia Potter
USA TODAY bestselling author PATRICIA POTTER has been telling stories since the second grade when she wrote a short story about wild horses, although she knew nothing at all about them. She has since received numerous writing awards, including RT Book Reviewsâ Storyteller of the Year, its Career Achievement Award for Western Historical Romance and Best Hero of the Year. She is a seven-time RITA® Award finalist for RWA and a three-time Maggie Award winner, as well as a past president of Romance Writers of America. Character motivation is what intrigues her most in creating a book, and she sits back and allows those characters to write their own stories.
Dedicated to all the nonprofit organizationsâlarge and smallâthat help veterans heal through interaction with dogs, horses and other animals.
Contents
Nigeria
JUBAL PIERCE KNEW he probably wouldnât live to see the next dawn. It wasnât that he had seen many dawns in...what was it? One year, two years? Maybe longer since heâd been taken prisoner by a band of terrorist rebels?
He knew his time was limited because his most frequent guard had brought him something more than a small dish of insect-filled rice.
âGift,â the tall, thin figure said in the limited English heâd picked up while guarding Jubal.
Jubal grabbed the bowl with his chained hands. The usual rice, but this time there was also some kind of meat. There was no spoon. He was expected to eat with his fingers. He was allowed nothing that could be turned into a weapon. His sole possessions were the filthy pants and remnants of a shirt he was captured in.
âWhy a gift?â he asked, using his hands to help the guard understand.
The man simply shrugged.
Jubal bowed his head in thanks. The guard left, closing the door to the tiny windowless hut that was home. There were enough cracks that he could hear activity outside. Excited chatter. A lot of movement.
Jubal ate the food, licked the sides of the tin bowl, then struggled to get to his feet and walked the length of the chain attached to the wall. He was so damn weak from lack of food. He figured he had lost nearly half of his two hundred and thirty pounds. With pure strength of will, he finally stood and peered through a crack.
