New York Times and USA Today Bestselling
Author of Steamy, Snarky Romance

EXCERPT MANIA! Stone Hard SEALs Complete Collection!


by Sabrina York


Read snippets from each book. It’s like a box of chocolates!


Delight in this non-stop action romp featuring a naïve heroine and a gruff, sexy SEAL who is determined to keep her safe from Somali pirates who want her as a hostage.


Book One: Ryder

A hostage rescue mission turns Ryder “Stone” Maddox’s world on its ear when he comes face-to-face with his greatest fear: A woman he cannot resist. But he has to resist Lily Wilson. He’s vowed never to fall in love. Besides, as the daughter of a senator, she is definitely off-limits. Lily sees things differently. Irresistibly drawn to this hot, hard SEAL, she is determined to prove they belong together…and that her man does not have a heart of stone.  (Originally published in the NYT and USA Today Bestselling Hot Alpha SEALs collection)



When she sat back with a sigh, he put the nozzle to his lips as well. Not because he was particularly thirsty, but because he wanted a taste of her mouth, while it was still fresh.

What he really wanted was to kiss her. But she was the senator’s daughter and he was a grunt. That wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

“Did…did you say something about food?” Damn lashes. Fluttering again. He had the urge to grab his Gerber and snip them off.

He pulled an MRE from a pocket on his left leg, read the label, and grimaced. He hated the meatloaf. He should have paid more attention when he prepped his gear. He had more in his pack, but this would do for now. “I have this.”

Her nose wrinkled as she studied the silver foil.

Yeah. Wait ’til she got a taste. He ripped open the packet, broke off a piece, and handed it to her. It was messy because of the gravy, but he didn’t want to unload everything to find an implement. They needed to eat and go.

She took a bite. Her eyes widened. “Yuuum,” she said in an unconvincing tone.

It was all he could do to hold back his laugh.

“What…” She swallowed heavily. “What is this?”

“An MRE.”

“What does that stand for?”

His lips quirked. “Meals Rarely Edible.”

Her brow wrinkled, and then she laughed.

And ah, what a laugh. A melodic trill. Some kind of sound he figured you might hear in heaven.

“Do you eat these often?”

“Not if I can help it.” He shoved a chunk in his mouth and fired it back. “But we have a long way to go today, and these have a lot of calories.”

She froze, a niblette of mystery meat halfway to her mouth. “H-how many calories?”

“About twelve hundred a meal.”

She gaped at him. “Twelve hundred?” She glared at the meatloaf as though it were made of turds. Then again, it might have been. “And you gave it to me? To eat?”

“Yeah. You’ll need it.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” She smacked him. It was like being batted by a kitten. “Twelve hundred calories is my whole day!”


Running from Somali pirates is hardly a romantic pursuit, but Drake and Brandy can’t help falling for each other in this action/adventure romance.

Book Two: Drake

Drake Ronan is all man—a rock hard SEAL who doesn’t need help from anyone. Doesn’t need anyone. But when he’s shot during a dangerous rescue mission, and has to rely on a beautiful nurse to survive, he realizes he has to rethink his resolution. Suddenly he can’t imagine his life without Brandy in it. It’s a damn shame she has a secret that could ruin everything.



They didn’t get far, maybe a mile, before he dropped.

No doubt it was the loss of blood that made his head spin, or the pain, but he couldn’t go on.

He thrust his rifle at her. “Keep going. Straight down the beach. You’ll see the extraction point where the island cuts inland.”

She frowned at him. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to.”

“You’ve been shot.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Really? How’d you figure that out?”

“I’m a nurse. I can help you.”

“No you can’t. You can keep moving down the beach and get on the chopper. When the other guys come by, they’ll get me.”

“And what if the pirates come by?”

He forced a grin. “They’ll get me too.”

“Damn it,” she grumbled. “I hate soldiers.”

“I’m not a soldier.” His voice was faint because his mouth wouldn’t work right. “I’m a SEAL.”

Her fingers played around his waist, awfully close to an, ahem, tender spot. It was too bad he was worthless to her at the moment. He could feel the sticky warmth of his blood on his leg and he knew there wasn’t much time. If the bullet nicked his femoral artery, he would bleed out in minutes.

“You’re a hotshot. God, I can’t stand your type.”

“My type is awesome.” Hardly a pithy comeback, but he was—probably—bleeding out.

“We need to get the bullet out. Do you have a first aid kit?” Damn, she was cute when she nibbled her lip.

“In my pack.” He waved somewhere behind him.

“And a Gerber?”

He blinked. “You know what a Gerber is?”

“Do you have one?”

“Of course.” Everyone carried a multi-tool.

She flipped him over and fiddled around in his backpack for a moment. He really hated feeling so helpless. He was being ravaged by a woman, for heaven’s sake.

He didn’t mind the ravaging part, as much as the fact he couldn’t really enjoy it because he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Then there was the pain. That was pretty bad too. Not to mention the humiliation…

It only got worse.

Because then she yanked down his pants.

And his underwear.

How mortifying.

He lay on the loam, with his Skivvies down around his knees, with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen staring at his bare tush…and there was nothing he could do about it.

The welling blackness was a mercy.


Don’t miss this scorching adventure as Mason Steele and Pansy Hightower battle an unknown threat and attempt to solve the mystery of her mother’s untimely death. This story is chock-a-block with searing action, sizzling sex, laugh-out-loud humor…and a Chihuahua wearing a tiara.


Book Three: Guard Dog

Mason Steele expected to be a SEAL until the day he died. And he was. A pity they revived him. Now he’s been mustered out of the Navy and his life seems wholly unsatisfying. He misses the action; he misses the camaraderie; he misses being able to use his tightly-honed skills. He’s lucky to have snagged this job with Ryder’s Stone Hard SEALs Services as a bodyguard—it provides some hope for his future. But the last thing he wants to do is babysit a spoiled heiress who is obsessed with the color of her nail polish and carries a Chihuahua in her purse.

But there’s more to Pansy Hightower than can be seen at first glance. She’s smart, sassy and determined to save the business her late mother built. She resents having a guard dog and does what she can to lose her muscular shadow. But when it becomes clear that someone is targeting her—perhaps for the same kind of fatal “accident” that befell her mother, she decides having the 240 pound SEAL with killer instincts and lethal hands at her back might be a good idea after all.

Until they share a kiss, that is. Until those lethal hands prove they have other talents as well. Talents that leave her breathless and wanting and weak. The last thing either of them wants is a relationship, but the scorching passion between them cannot be denied…even though it will undoubtedly spell disaster for them both.



He swiped the key and pushed through the door.

It was dark beyond the slice of light from the doorway. He pulled out his Sig and hunched lower—motioning that she do the same—and peered through the murk, making out the shapes of furniture in a sprawling suite. Not a sound. Not a hint of movement. Still he would need to—

A low growl resonated through the room—the sound a Chupacabra might make. It sent chills up his spine. He moved—just a fraction of an inch—and the growl rose. He glanced at the wall where a sliver of light created a shadow; he made out the outline of an enormous creature with large ears, a slavering maw and barrel chest. The creature quivered with fury.

Why hadn’t he known she had a Rottweiler?

Whatever it was, he wasn’t facing it blind. He felt for the light switch and flicked it on and…

Holy hell.

The growl erupted into a flurry of high pitched yips and snarls that Mason had trouble processing. Because he was utterly befuddled.

This hulking, snarling beast, one that made his bowels go cold, was a Chihuahua. And not just any Chihuahua. A Chihuahua wearing a frilly pink tutu with matching booties.

Apparently the beast was pissed about the tutu—or something—because it charged.

Mason launched to his feet—he was not having his groin mauled by anything in a pink tutu. He yelped as the dog closed its fangs on his ankle. Naturally, he tried to shake the beast off. Because damn it, those teeth hurt.

To his consternation, Pansy, who was supposed to be staying behind him while he checked out her suite, pushed past him and snatched up the dog, cuddling it to her cheek as though the little monster wasn’t still snapping and growling like a rabid ferret.

“Hush baby, hush,” she cooed. “It’s okay.”


It was not okay.

Why she glared at him, he had no idea.  “What?” he snapped.

“You tried to kick her,” she said.

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“I was trying to shake her off.”

“She’s much smaller than you, you brute!”

“She was biting me.”

“She’s a guard dog. What did you expect?”

He stared at the creature quivering in her arms. When it noticed his attention, it made some more nasty sounds; saliva spattered him. “That? That is not a guard dog.” Guard dogs did not wear tutus. He was pretty damn sure.


Craving an exotic escapade in the streets of Hong Kong? Join the adventure as former SEAL Garrett Schrodinger and business magnate Catherine Hightower battle enemies, explore rare and glamorous locales, and find the family they’ve both been missing.


Book Four: Herding Cat

It’s insane to want him, this beautiful, strong, sexy man. Not just because her hot bodyguard is tasked with herding her safely through the exotic night markets of Hong Kong. And not just because she’s his boss. But because they are worlds apart. What they have can only be a fling. It can’t last forever.

But Garrett has other ideas.



Garrett was irritated to find out that Catherine had insisted on going to the Kowloon market after her meetings. Located on Temple Street, which was closed to traffic in lieu of vendor kiosks, the street was a crowded nightmare for a bodyguard. It was a bustling jumble of humanity.

Normally, it would be impossible to find three people in that snaking den of tents and tourists, but as a matter of course, they’d tagged Catherine with a GPS necklace, and the whole team had the Global Location app active on their phones, so Garrett just tracked the red dots. And then, of course, he followed his nose.

He should have known.

He found them sitting at a rickety table at a Hairy Crab restaurant set up in the intersection of two main roads. Luke—who was actually doing his job and paying attention—saw Garrett right away and nodded. It took Tate a minute—he was making love to a crab leg—but he saw Garrett as well. Catherine, not so much.

Or maybe she did see him, and was pretending to be a block of marble. She sat there, staring off into the distance with her jaw clenched, looking pensive and beautiful. There was a tiny bit of crab on her lip. He wanted so badly to brush it away. Or nibble it.

“Hey guys,” he said as he took a seat.

Tate and Luke grunted, but Catherine didn’t even look at him.

“How was your day?”

“Fine,” Luke said.

“Any incidents?”

“Not a one.” Tate picked up his beer and took a swig. His shift was over now. He could drink all he liked.

“So I went by to see Scott.”

Catherine’s head whipped around. Finally. It was wonderful to have her attention, if only for a moment. “H-how is he?”

“He’s fine. He had his surgery and now he just needs to heal.”

“Any word from Ryder?” Luke asked.

Garrett frowned. “Nothing yet. But I’m sure he’s sending someone good.”

Luke’s expression was stony. “We should consider returning to Los Angeles.”

Catherine blew out an impatient breath. “Not that again.” The annoyance threaded through her tone told Garrett that Luke had been harping on it for a while. It was only logical, when a target was in danger, to retreat to somewhere safe, especially if a team was down a man. “I still have a lot to do. Besides, we still don’t know that accident was intentional.”

Luke rolled his eyes and Garrett grinned at that, but he fixed a somber expression on his face before he looked at Catherine. “We don’t know it wasn’t. It is only good sense to proceed with caution.”

She harrumphed. Actually harrumphed. “I am not canceling my meetings.”


“And I was planning to visit the Night Market tonight.”

Garrett cringed. He saw Luke grimace as well. For his part, Tate—who was now off duty—chuckled. The jerk. “All right, but be sure to keep close to us.”

To which Catherine responded with a glower.

Garrett had no idea why she was being so distant, other than the fact that they had kissed. That she knew he wanted her. And he knew she wanted him but had some crazy idea about being too old for him. The bald fact of the matter was, he hadn’t even thought about her age until she brought it up. And now, when he thought about it, it was with a wash of exasperation.

When a man was attracted to a woman, little else mattered.

Except her resistance to the idea.


Love hot adventure romance? Join the mission as Matt Tate and Vixen LaFleur cross swords to ferret out a vile traitor and crack the case. But can they crack each other’s well-fortified walls and find the love they’ve been searching for?

Book Five: Hot Rod

A standard witness protection mission goes wrong, thrusting Matt Tate and his target, a wise-cracking hooker named Vixen LaFleur, into a fight for their lives. But flying bullets and lurking villains are not nearly as dangerous as risking the heart. Against his will, Matt is attracted to the dauntless, exasperating woman he’s supposed to be protecting, but she is harboring a secret. One that could heal his wounded soul, or crush it.



Vixen riffled around in her purse until she found some gum. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth and then proceeded to blow and pop incessant bubbles.

Not that gum popping was like nails on a chalkboard to him, but it was.

He shot her a frown after a particularly percussive rendition. “Do you need to do that?”

She fluttered her lashes. “Do what?”

“Pop your gum?”

“Sorry, Dad.”

Ohh. There was bitterness in that word. It said more about her and her past than she probably imagined. But then girls with a happy home life generally did not grow up to be hookers.

A flash of pity for her ripped through him along with various scenarios she might have suffered…until she riffled some more and emerged with more gum, which she added to the wad in her mouth, because, apparently, one stick of gum wasn’t provoking enough.

God. Months of this? Fighting his attraction to her and listening to that incessant cracking? What was he in for?

If he was smart, he would just tune her out. Focus on the drive. And, when they got to the cabin, ignore her there as well.

But she wasn’t so easy to ignore.

Especially when she continued popping her gum.

He turned on the radio to drown her out. But apparently she didn’t like country music, because she issued a rumbling groan of distain. “Don’t you have something else?” she snapped.

He shrugged. “This is Texas.” Country music on every other station was practically the law. Still, she punched button after button, skating from channel to channel with an annoying persistence. She found one that might have been classical—tough to tell through the static—and for some reason left it there. Probably just to piss him off. She didn’t seem like a Rachmaninoff kind of girl to him.

He attempted to ignore the scratchy, inconsistent tune until he could stand it no more and then, with a violent jab, turned the radio off all together.

He should have known she would turn it back on. And then she began again, jumping from one station to another. She finally settled on a station featuring música norteña, a particularly strident form of Mexican polka music that made his eyes cross.

But it was better than conversation. And it was easy to block out.

For a blissful few miles, until the station faded away, he was free of the expectation of banter. When she spoke again, it was with a particularly hostile tone.

“So tell me, Hot Rod. How did you end up with Stone Hard SEALs?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

You. You said it as though it was inconceivable that such a thing should occur.”

She shrugged. “I thought the Stone Hard SEALs team was made up of the best of the best.”

He set his teeth. “I am the best of the best.”

Her response was a snort.

“Why would you doubt it? You’ve never even met me.”

“Oh, I’ve met you.”

His heart skittered. She had? When? Surely he would have remembered. “Have you?”

“You better believe it, Bub. I’ve met you many times. Different bodies, but the same guy.”

“Um, are you taking about reincarnation?” Had he been saddled with a hippie hooker?

The disgust was prevalent in her tone. “I’m talking about your species.”

His…species? And here, all his life, he’d thought he was human. Go figure.

“You military grunts, you’re all alike.”

Ah. So that was her bugaboo. “Are we?”

“Oh yeah. So arrogant. So holier than thou. You all pretend like you serve the good of the nation. You pose as the protectors of the realm. But when it comes down to it, it’s all a lie. Nothing means more to you than your moral imperative—but that’s a lie too, isn’t it? You only serve your own selfish desires.”

Matt shook his head. The river of acrimony in her soul flowed even deeper than he’d suspected. “Why are you so bitter?”

She stared at him. “Bitter? Why am I bitter?” She ticked the reasons off on her fingers. “My life was ruined. I have to go into hiding with three Neanderthals—”

“We actually prefer the term Homo neanderthalensis.”


“Not fair. None of us were marines.”

“Arrogant, insufferable bastards—”

“Technically, my parents were married.”

“Who don’t give a damn about me or anything except their mission.”

He barked a laugh, though none of this was funny. “Well, that is a tad paradoxical because you are our mission.”

“You know damn well what I mean.”

“Maybe. But you don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”


In this steamy reunion romance, Luke Grant returns to his home town to face his demons and just might have a chance for love, and redemption.


Book Six: Gun Shy 

Returning to his hometown to sell his hated father’s ranch, the last thing Luke Grant expects to find on his first day in town is a reason to stay. But there she is, Melissa Divine. The girl he loved all those years ago.

But Melissa has changed since those innocent days. She’s just escaped from a hellish marriage and wants nothing to do with any man. Especially not this big, burly alpha biker who reminds her of her ex.

Can this former SEAL change her mind before his time runs out?



Melissa awoke in a warm nest to the smell of coffee and bacon.

It took a second for her brain to shift into gear and when it did, when she recalled everything that had happened last night, she froze.

She was in Luke’s room. In his bed. And he was…humming.

Cautiously, she cracked open a lid and peeped at the table by the window where he sat reading the paper and drinking from a Styrofoam cup. The paper plate in front of him was empty, but another sat covered on the other side of the table.

She could only assume it was for her.

He’d brought her breakfast.

Good lord. Had anyone ever brought her breakfast before? Not that she could recall.

Her stomach growled and he glanced in her direction. When he saw she was awake, he lifted his coffee in a silent salute and went back to his reading.

It was the fact he didn’t pin her with any intense scrutiny that encouraged her to sit up and edge off the bed.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked without glancing up.

She padded toward the table and sat, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. “Fine.” She carefully unwound the plastic silverware from the napkin and uncovered the plate.

“It may be cold,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I don’t mind,” she responded, but it was a complete lie. She hated nothing more than cold eggs. Except cold and snotty eggs. She poked at them with her fork. “Did you go to Viola’s Diner?”

He did look up at that. His gaze tangled with hers and she struggled to remain blasé. But damn, he had beautiful eyes. “Is Viola’s Diner the one around the corner?”

She grimaced. “Yes.”

“That’s where I went.”

“Well, for future reference, you’re better off going the extra block to the Sunshine Café if you like breakfast that hasn’t been basted in grease.”


She smiled to take the sting out of her criticism. Because she really did appreciate his thoughtfulness. “Willie was a short order cook for the Navy and old habits—”

Luke chuckled and held up a hand. “’Nuff said. I spent half my life in a chow hall. I didn’t even notice that the eggs were bad. But the coffee’s good.”

“Mmm. The coffee is always good at Viola’s.” She took a sip and moaned as the rich flavor warmed her.

“Do you eat there often?”

“Never,” she said on a laugh. She knew better. “I work there.”

“Wait.” He put down his paper and fixed his attention on her. “I thought you worked at McLaren’s Pub.”

“I do.”

“And Viola’s?”

“Yep.” At his astonished expression, she added, “I’m saving up. For a place of my own.”

“Ah. I see.”

She almost believed he did.

“Well, thank you for breakfast. It was very thoughtful.”

He lifted an enormous shoulder. “I was getting something for myself anyway.”

“It was still thoughtful. You will have to let me repay you.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” he growled, as though, for some reason, her suggestion annoyed him.

“I know. But I would feel better if I did.”


“Shut up.”

She froze the second the words came out of her mouth. Oh, hell. She would never dared to be this flip with her ex-husband. She didn’t know why she’d sassed Luke. Didn’t know why she’d done so without a thought to the consequences. But now he would retaliate. He would—


Was he laughing?

She stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t. He was genuinely amused by her attitude.

Of their own volition, her lips quirked.

Man, how wonderful would it be to say what she liked without worrying about infuriating someone? It had been a long time since she felt she could be herself.

She might actually enjoy this friendship.


What Readers are Saying About Stone Hard SEALs

“Sabrina York knows how to write Alpha males”

 “Who doesn’t like hard-bodied SEALS in action?”

 “I love an alpha male who fights just as hard for his woman as he does for his country.”

“If you like sexy men in the military, bold women and HEA with a little danger thrown in-BUY THIS BOOK!”

 “Snappy dialogue, hunky alpha heroes, plucky heroines, steamy hot sex, what more can one ask for?”


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