The family he
didn't know he wanted might be the only thing worth dying for.
Baby ConSEALed
SEAL & Shelter Book 1
by Leah Miles
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Baby ConSEALed won
the 2024 Georgia Romance Writers' "Maggie Award"!
Rissa Parker struggles to support herself and her daughter
by working overnights as a home health nurse. After witnessing her employer's
murder, she has no choice but to grab her two-year-old and run toward the one
person strong enough to protect them, the Navy SEAL who fathered her child
during a one-night stand.
Navy SEAL Bernard "Burn" Cruz is a straight arrow,
approaching work and play in equal parts. He doesn't regret much in life,
except for one woman he's never forgotten. Nearly three years after their
initial encounter, she shows up in San Diego at the bar his team likes to
frequent, and he believes Forever might have knocked on his door. Until a child
cries, and all hell breaks loose.
As bullets fly and bodies drop, Rissa must outrun a killer
whose connection to her past threatens to destroy any chance at a future with
the father of her child, and Burn discovers the family he didn't know he wanted
might be the only thing worth dying for.
Baby ConSEALed, an award-winning contemporary
romantic suspense novel, is fast-paced, steamy and suspenseful. Pick up your
copy today!
“A tightly
plotted, fast-paced whirlwind of a ride fraught with secrets, danger, and an
emotional love story that focuses on family—the kind you choose.” —Lena Diaz,
Publishers Weekly best-selling author
“With a
to-die-for hero, sizzling tension, and edge-of-your-seat suspense, this romance
delivers all the feels in an unforgettable, heart-pounding read!” – Charlee Allden,
Goodreads Review
“A fast-paced,
slow-burn romantic suspense where danger, secrets, and second chances collide…. With
bullets flying and hearts on the line, Leah Miles delivers high stakes and
emotional impact in equal measure.” – Cam Torrens, Goodreads Review
**NEW RELEASE – GET IT NOW!!**
Rissa Parker breathed through trembling fingers, the
jackhammering of her heart nearly drowning out the voices as she peered through
the closet's slats. The speaker had his back to her, but her employer’s face
was puce red, and her lips twisted to show a bit of her pearly white teeth.
“Well?” The man threw out both arms, momentarily blocking
Rissa’s view.
Mrs. Iglesias inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled from
her mouth. She reached for the cup on her nightstand and took a small sip
before replacing it, making the man wait for her answer. “You need to calm
down, Mijo. Yes. I wanted to speak with you, but I didn’t ask you to
come in the middle of the night.”
Rissa struggled to keep her breathing quiet. Mijo? Wasn’t
he a stranger?
“We were in town, and I didn’t feel like waiting.” He stalked
around the expansive bedroom, which allowed Rissa occasional glimpses of his black
suit and costly boots—Lucchese black-tooled leather— something she could never
buy, although she had window-shopped plenty. His Stetson also cost a pretty
penny. It had a filigree silver band with a feather trailing over the back rim.
In the movies, people in hiding took pictures of the bad guys. But even if she
was brave enough, her phone was still in her chair by the bed.
Mrs. Iglesias tucked her hands beneath her comforter. “Leave,
Terrance, and take the bastard with you. We can’t have a conversation with you
acting this way. Besides, I’m old and need my rest. You can come back mañana.”
Terrance halted his sporadic pacing and moved close to the bed.
Now Rissa could see both of them.
“I’m sick of dealing with your bullshit. Come here. Come there.
I need this. Get me that. This time, if you intended to piss me off,” he
slow-clapped a few times, “then bravo, you fucking succeeded.”
An involuntary shudder rippled through Rissa when a second man moved
in front of the closet, standing so close that his back brushed against the
slats. His pants were dark, and he wore a thick utility belt. Rissa clamped her
hand more tightly over her mouth, terrified of making any sound. This man was a
police officer.
“You disrespectful ingrate.” Mrs. Iglesias’ querulous voice
morphed into the steely tone of a queen. “I’m your mother, Terrance. You’d be nada,
nothing, if not for me.”
Her son?
The officer’s hand moved to his belt, resting on his gun. Then
he shifted a few feet away, allowing Rissa a better glimpse of Mrs. Iglesias
through the slats. The old woman’s face was white as chalk, but her lips were
set in a firm line.
“Step-mother,” Terrance growled before spitting on the pristine,
white Berber carpet. “I was ten when my father took pity on a pathetic old
woman and married you. You’re not my mother.”
Mrs. Iglesias bared her teeth at him, her voice vibrating. “Well,
you’re forty-eight now. Old enough to know when you’re not welcome. Lárgate
de mi vista. Get out.”
Terrance shoved her legs over and perched on the edge of the
mattress. “Old woman, the days are past when I follow your orders. Now. Enough
of your foolishness.”
“You have a lot of nerve—”
“I’m here at your request,” he interrupted, spreading his arms
wide. “Now tell me the secret that was important enough you asked me to drive
two hours.”
“If your papi was alive, you’d never treat me this way.” Her voice switched back to that of a tired old woman, but her eyes were narrowed slits. “I thought about sharing interesting information, but I’ve changed my mind. You don’t deserve to know this.” The motor on the bed whirred as she shifted higher on the mattress. “Leave and don’t return to my home again. I’m finished with you, Terrance. And take your killer with you.”
Leah Miles writes romance and paranormal fiction from her
small-town in South Georgia, where she lives with her husband and cocker
spaniel while running an insurance agency and Airbnb business.
After a dozen
years in news production at CNN, Leah Miles now manages an insurance agency and
an Airbnb business in rural Georgia, while writing romantic suspense and
paranormal romance featuring take-charge heroes and fierce heroines.
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