LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      About the Author

      JILL MONROE makes her home in Oklahoma with her family. When not writing, she spends way too much time on the internet completing “research” or updating her blog. Even when writing, she’s thinking of ways to avoid cooking.

      Dear Reader,

      I was so very excited to be asked to be part of the UNIFORMLY HOT! series because, quite frankly, what could be sexier than a strong, capable hero’s hero?

      Then I realized that although I had a family friend who was a former SEAL, I didn’t really know that much about that part of the military. I began an amazing journey learning not just what it takes to become a SEAL, but also the career-long training and commitment these men make. I really stand in awe of these men, but also the women and families that support them along the way. All I can do is say thank you for your sacrifices.

      I had a lot of fun learning about BUDs and SQT and of course downloading pictures of SEALs in action off the internet—that kind of research could go on for days! I did take a few liberties in the name of fiction, but I hope Sealed and Delivered lives up to the awesome reality.

      I love to hear from readers; you can visit me on the web at http://www.jillmonroebooks.com or http://www.authortalk.tv

      All my best,

       Jill

      Thanks again to Pink, my amazing daughters and all my family for their support.

      To Gena Showalter—may everyone have a friend as good!

      Thanks to Kassia Krozser who’s been with me from the beginning—some day I promise to put in a serial comma, and you’ll know that’s for you.

      For technical help, I often turned to Helen Kay Dimon and James Miyazawa—thanks so much to the pair of you.

      Alison Kent, Betty Sanders, Donnell Epperson, Sheila Fields, Stephanie Feagan and Wendy Duren all allowed me to bounce an idea off of them, and I appreciate it so much.

      Many thanks to both Kathryn Lye and Deidre Knight.

      Prologue

      NEW CITY. NEW LIFE. New bookstore.

      Same old, same old, in the self-help section.

      Hailey Sutherland ran her fingers along the familiar titles; most of these books she already owned.

       Maybe the Problem IS Your Sex Life.

      Owned it. And yeah, the problem probably was her sex life, in that she always picked complete jerks to have it with.

       Make Love Happen to You.

      Yeah, as if women hadn’t been trying to make that reality for centuries. Besides, the book was mainly a bunch of self-esteem exercises. She and her self-esteem had come to an understanding some time ago. They loathed one another.

       Becoming the Woman You Are Meant to Be.

      “Come to mama,” Hailey whispered as she pulled this new book from off the high shelf. She thumbed through the glossy pages. Personality quizzes, wish-list management sheets, projection tips…With a sigh, Hailey returned the book to the shelf. She’d done it all before.

      Yet, here she was again in the bookstore looking for the answer. Her cell phone rang just as she was returning the book to the shelf.

      “Hailey, you won’t believe it. I’ve just booked a wedding shower in the Tea Room,” gushed her sister, Rachel. She’d always been the enthusiastic one.

      “I don’t believe it,” Hailey deadpanned.

      “Well, believe it, and I’m going to need you to stop at the paint store on the way back home.”

      “So you finally decided on a color?”

      “Papaya Whip.”

      “Sounds yummy.”

      “I think it’s as close to the original color as we’re going to get,” she said with a heavy sigh. Her sister’s search for the exact same shade that highlighted the Tea Room’s ornate wooden scrollwork since the 1920s had been mercenary. Just like Hailey, Rachel had returned to The Sutherland a few months ago to take away control of their family bed & breakfast from the management company they’d hired after their parents’ death five years ago.

      Management company, what a joke. They’d mainly managed to run the place into obscurity and out of cash. But Hailey and Rachel were determined to change that. The B&B had kept generations of Sutherlands off the streets and employed, and it wasn’t going down on their watch.

      “With only two weeks, it’ll have to do,” her sister continued.

      Hailey almost dropped the phone. “Did you say two weeks? As in, we’re hosting a wedding shower in the Tea Room in two weeks?” Her stomach began to hurt.

      “I had to take the booking,” Rachel defended without sounding defensive. “You know how much we need the cash.” Enthusiastic and practical…that was her baby sis.

      With fewer and fewer reservations, her sister’s now exhausted savings caught them up on the pile of unpaid bills the management company had left them with. Hailey’s “rainy day” was to cover the soon-to-be established marketing plan that would return The Sutherland to San Diego’s preeminent social spot.

      At one point the Tea Room in The Sutherland had been the place for showers and parties in this area of California. It seemed a lot more doable three months ago. “Okay, but two weeks? We’ve never hosted anything like that before.”

      Rachel groaned into the phone. “Come on. You’ve been engaged three times.”

      “True, but all I had to do was show up for those parties.”

      “I’m sure something rubbed off. We can do it, Hailey. Look how easy everything has gone so far. We were both between jobs at the same time so we could come back and take advantage of that nice little loophole that let us drop the management company as if it’s hot.”

      “You’re still doing the song-lyric thing,” Hailey teased. After gradation, Rachel had grabbed her guitar and drove herself to Nashville to try and make it as a songwriter. Song titles often made it into her everyday conversation.

      Rachel ignored her and went on. “It’s as if fate wants us to revitalize The Sutherland.”

      Fate and a lot of hard work.

      “Okay, paint store it is,” Hailey agreed and she closed her cell phone. She turned on her heel, nearly running into a large cardboard display. Overhead, a flashy red banner hung from the ceiling proclaiming, Don’t Wait On Fate—Jump-Start Your Life Today!

      Fate.

      Strange, her sister had just mentioned the word and here she was almost being attacked by it. The display was talking her language. Jump-start life—sounded like self-help to her. Although what awaited her inside the cardboard display was not a book, but

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