SEALed with a Kiss : BWWM Navy SEAL Romance

By Tiana Dorsey

Assistant District Attorney Miri Madsen just had her first big win in court—putting away a small time drug dealer, Matty "Mad Dog" Make—and deserves to celebrate. But when she leaves her victory party, she discovers the tires on her car have been slashed. Miri calls a car service for a ride home, which might be the smartest move she's ever made.

Miri's driver is Luke Farmer, a retired Navy SEAL who longs for the peace and quiet of a civilian life. When it turns out that Miri got on the bad side of a local crime ring, she and Luke need to rely on one another to survive long enough to put the head of the cartel behind bars.

Standalone Romance Stories With No Cliffhanger!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiana Dorsey
• Release date: Feb 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386622871

Book preview

SEALed with a Kiss

Chapter 1

A nd finally, congratulations to Assistant District Attorney, Miri Madsen, on her first victory in court for our office, District Attorney Ken Burnham announced, lifting his own glass high. The first of many wins for us and the good people of Boston, I’m sure. Cheers!

Cheers! the crowd echoed, draining their drinks in unison. Kilgariff’s Irish Pub wasn’t a big bar, but it was popular with the staff from the DA’s office and tonight nearly every member of the organization had crammed their way into the low-ceilinged, dimly-lit pub to celebrate Miri’s victory.

Miri smiled and sipped her glass of Pinot Grigio. She’d only been with the DA's office for five months and getting this win was a major feather in her cap. She’d been at the top of her class in law school and everyone had expected great things from her, but no one had expected this level of success this quickly.

Miri! Congrats, girl! Alicia Collins, a sleek blonde woman with a penchant for black pantsuits and prosecuting domestic abusers, threw her arms around Miri’s shoulders, almost spilling both of their drinks. "I absolutely knew you could do this, I freaking knew it!"

Similar sentiments and congratulations had been flooding her all afternoon and evening. No one was surprised that Miri won a case—her reputation was sterling and she was one of the brightest up-and-coming attorneys on the East Coast—but everyone was shocked that her first case with the DA’s office turned out to be such an important one.

At first, it seemed that Matty Mad Dog Make was just another run-of-the-mill, small-time drug dealer with poor personal hygiene, but as Miri dove deeper into the case, she discovered his ties went much, much further.

Girl, Alicia took a quick sip of her vodka tonic, then leaned into Miri, practically quivering with excitement. "Not only did you win this, but I heard Burnham talking with one of the other ADs. Apparently, this is the first successful conviction of anyone, anyone, connected with South Seven."

Ever? Miri was shocked. Rumors of the cartel had been running rampant in Boston for nearly a decade, dating back to Miri’s own law school days at Harvard. It seemed implausible that no one had ever successfully convicted anyone associated with the crime ring.

Ever, Alicia repeated, savoring the importance of the word. "I guess the cops have made arrests of people they thought were connected, but the charges never stuck. It’s crazy. It’s like anyone connected to South Seven has always slipped conviction or, you know, disappeared before their trial."

This was not exactly news to Miri. Before she accepted the job with the Boston District Attorney’s office, she’d done ample research and there were stories—dozens, possibly even hundreds—about associates of the mythical South Seven cartel miraculously getting off scot-free. There were other stories—less numerous and harder to find—that hinted at a connection between a Boston law enforcement agency and the South Seven, that the cartel had someone deep within the inner workings of those agencies that was keeping their activities under wraps and their associates from behind bars.

Until me, I guess, Miri said, finally answering Alicia.

Alicia held up her hand for a high-five and Miri obliged. Until you, girl, she said, laughing. You’re the first. I feel like we should get you a trophy or a medal or—

I’d be happy with another drink, Miri said, holding up her empty wine glass. Normally, she limited herself to one glass of wine a night, but tonight she was celebrating.

You got it, you legal rock star, you, Alicia laughed, grabbing her own empty cocktail glass and pushing her way through the crowd toward the bar.

It was flattering to Miri, it really was, to have so many people congratulating her on her big win, but she didn’t really pay it much mind, particularly the part about being the first to successfully convict someone connected to South Seven. At this point in her life, Miri had been the first to do so many things, that she had practically lost count.

She’d been the first black girl to join the local Girl Scout troop, she’d been the first black student to win the State Debate Championship. Miri had been the first female valedictorian of her high school and she’d been the first black president of her college sorority. Her journey through undergrad and law school had been a river of firsts, another one always coming up right on the tail end of the last. If Miri was being honest,