I’ve been fortunate enough to have been included in several “team” series in my sister’s Brotherhood Protectors world. Each is pretty special. I had a blast sharing characters and trying to write a story that fit while still being unique. Tyson’s Mission is the last one I wrote. I got to enjoy “living” next to an archaeological site in the jungle for a few weeks while my characters tried to avoid drug-runners and kidnappers. The setting was extremely important, and I dug in (pardon the pun) to incorporate as many details as possible of what an actual dig site might be like while keeping the plot moving briskly! I hope you enjoy the “meet-cute” excerpt! Happy Tuesday!

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A former Navy SEAL is tapped to provide security for a team of archeologists working to uncover Mayan ruins deep in a Mexican jungle that a local drug cartel is targeting.

After surviving a catastrophic helicopter accident, former Navy SEAL Tyson Quigley is taking well to his new life with the Brotherhood Protectors in the Yellowstone, Montana, office. Life’s looking up. He’s working with old teammates and feeling stronger and more himself every day.

Then he gets a call from his university professor brother, who is worried about a colleague working on an archeological dig in southern Mexico. The team has had problems with thefts of equipment and supplies. Now, one of the dig team members has been kidnapped and held for ransom, but they quickly figure out the finger they were sent in the package demanding payment is from an already dead person. Now, they have no idea whether their team member is alive or dead and worry that the attacks on the site aren’t over. After a quick conference with his Brotherhood Protector teammates, Ty heads down to Mexico to pose as his brother’s friend’s boyfriend to provide her protection for the remainder of the dig.

Cara Woodward doesn’t need a babysitter. Sure, things have gotten scary since a team member was abducted, but she thinks having a bodyguard is overkill. Their sponsors are pulling the plug on the excavation due to the kidnapping, so they’re working furiously to close the site for the season. Tyson’s everywhere she is, and it’s getting on her nerves. His looming presence is distracting, to say the least. He’s too handsome, too intense.

As the dig team continues documenting their work before they pack up and leave, they suffer a series of attacks—this time, too close to Cara for Ty’s comfort. He’s locking her down, with no daylight between them for the duration.

Excerpt from Tyson’s Mission…

Cara Woodward swatted at a mosquito and made a “note to self” to break out the repellent. Yes, it was barely spring, but the humidity was high, and the temperatures were forecasted to reach the low 90s in the next few days. Just one of the many reasons the university liked to dig winter to spring rather than wait for the scorching hot summers when most students were free.

It was also nearing six PM, which meant Roy and the archeologists from the University of Mexico would be heading back to camp. She turned toward the camp’s mess tent to make sure Cookie had a warm dinner ready.

Cookie had been an unexpected blessing this dig season—a new hire who had blended well with the crew from day one. An attractive blonde with short, spiked hair, her brusque personality and ready smile had been a reassuring presence. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t tackle, and her cooking skills, easily adapting to local produce, had assured everyone stayed well-fed. The fact she was ex-Army like Cara had given them an instant connection.

Tonight, Cookie was dressed in a white tank that bared her rather muscular arms and frayed jeans shorts. She gave Cara a two-finger salute and a smile as she approached. “Dinner’s almost ready. Chicken and rice—and I made a homemade red pepper salsa for the guys since they’ve been complaining about the lack of heat.”

Cara sniffed. “It smells wonderful. How are we doing on supplies? We’ll be making a run into Cuidad de Ma’ax for supplies and fuel for the generators tomorrow.”

“I’ll make you a list—mostly produce since it doesn’t keep well. Since I’m feeding fewer people now, I’m flush with almost everything else. Do you have any news about when we’re going to pack it in?”

“I’m hoping Roy will be able to nail down a teardown date tonight.”

Cookie wrinkled her nose. “Good luck with that. He’s pretty pissed the university pulled the plug early. Nothing like a kidnapping to spoil the party.”

“I just hope Duncan’s okay.”

“And not really missing a finger,” Cookie said, her face screwing into a grimace.

They shared a glance. “It was a good thing you noticed the freezer burn on the thumb,” Cara said. “I couldn’t have said for sure whether it was from Duncan’s hand or not, even though the skin appeared darker.”

Cookie gave an exaggerated shiver. “I had a hard enough time looking at the mummy they pulled from the dig. Looking at something that wasn’t dried up like leather… It gave me the willies.”

“You got all the help you need?” Cara asked, looking beyond Cookie to the back of the tent where the sides were rolled up and the portable stoves were presently being manned by the local help Cara had hired.

“More than enough. If you need to let one or two go… I don’t need as many since we’re no longer doing food prep for a full team.”

Cara shook her head. “I promised the local mayor I’d hire them through the duration of the dig. I’ve already promised to extend payment by two weeks since we’re closing early for the season. I want to keep everyone happy with us for the next season when we descend again.”

“Just remember me next time you’re looking for a cook—it doesn’t matter where we go. I’ve rarely worked for a site manager as well-organized as you. It’s been a pleasure. I can concentrate on cooking the food rather than foraging for it.”

Cara gave Cookie a fist bump. “You’re top of my list. All that prior military experience working in a mess hall has really helped make this seamless after our last cook retired.”

“Just remember, I haven’t just worked in brick-and-mortar mess halls—I’ve got field experience, too—situations more challenging than this tent.”

“I haven’t forgotten—and you’ve proven very adaptable.”

In the distance, an engine sounded, but it was coming from the opposite direction from where the dig team would be coming.

“What now?” she muttered and headed toward the motor pool—which was no more than the flattest, unforested spot on the edge of the camp. They’d erected a makeshift fence around the motor pool with cleaned cans from the mess tent hanging from the wire to alert the camp to anyone looking to steal parts or an entire vehicle, which had happened the previous year.

A jeep pulled up to the gate, and the driver rapped the horn once.

The jeep’s poorly painted camo pattern meant their visitor was Gino Acevedo, the local man of all trades with whom Cara met when she needed manpower or materials.

Cookie kept pace with Cara as they moved toward the gate where the jeep stopped.

Gino stepped down with a huge grin on his face. “I have a surprise for you, Señora Woodward.”

The passenger side door that faced away slammed. A tall figure appeared and circled the front of the vehicle. It was a man—a rather tall, well-built man. As he neared, Cara’s breath caught. Lord have mercy, the man was handsome.

His mouth moved into a tight line before stretching into a half-smile as he drew closer. Then, before she had a chance to wonder why he was moving in so close, he reached out, gripped her shoulders, and kissed her.