Flowers For A Hero

In the U.S. Military, men don’t come tougher than Sr. Chief Petty Officer Brogan Malloy. Known to make snap sound decisions with a cool-leveled head, Brogan’s a survivor, has been all his life from endearing drug addicted parents and foster care, to becoming one of the best SEALs in the Navy, carrying out dozens of successful operations as team leader all over the world.
However, every man reaches his breaking point, and Brogan reaches his when a good friend is killed. Overwhelmed with guilt, Brogan seeks comfort in whiskey only to realize this path will lead him to no good end.

Once checked out of rehab, Brogan has a personal mission, to get to North Carolina and deliver his fallen comrade’s final letter to his parents. On the drive up to Blowing Rock, Brogan stops on the side of the road, to help a woman stranded next to her broken down pickup truck loaded with flowers. He’s not prepared to be given a floral lesson or be swept away by her sweet southern charms. Yet, she’s melting the steely edges of his heart and has him so distracted, he can’t think straight. And he just met her. No female has had that effect on him. Brogan’s the one that usually sweeps women off their feet—they didn’t nickname him “the sweeper” for nothing.

With the truck’s battery now fully charged, she pulls back onto the road, and Brogan resumes carrying out his personal mission, doubting he’ll ever see her again, regretting he didn’t get her name and number.

Every season, Chelsea Harrison places flowers on fallen heroes’ graves, including her own dear brother’s. With a truck loaded full of flowers, she isn’t expecting it to break down on the side of the road or to be helped by a gorgeous looking man.

Marred by her past, Chelsea’s uneasy to be alone with him or with any man for that matter. Yet, this one seems to know how to put her fears to rest and calm her nerves. There’s also something somber about him. Perhaps something tragic happened to him to cause the glint of sadness in his smoky gray eyes.

Blushing unmercifully beneath his chiseled firm jaw and broad shoulders, Chelsea feels surprisingly safe and secure in his presence, but the truck’s battery is charged now, and the time has come to leave. At the cemetery, she suddenly regrets not asking him for his name and number or giving him hers, and as she plants flowers on forgotten heroes’ graves, she can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever run into that handsome Samaritan again.