I'm excited to share with you guys that SEAL Team Alpha: Blue, Book 5 is coming March 27, 2018!!
I know this is a hard wait for you guys, but thank you for all the support during the wait. I hope you will join me today in celebrating, sharing, and getting excited over the upcoming release!!
Hopefully the writing goes fast and there won't be any delays!!
Check out this gorgeous cover by Robin https://
Here's a little bit to whet your appetite! If you missed the first four books, go here to find the links and to catch up. http://zoedawson.com/
SEAL Team Alpha
Coming March 27, 2018
Wilds of Kirikhan Province, Russia
From where he was huddling, completely naked and shaking from shock and cold, Petty Officer Ocean “Blue” Beckett could see Justin "Speed" Myerson, the SEAL they’d come to rescue lying in a crumpled heap, wet and, from the looks of him, dead. Tortured, Blue was certain, with the bleak rig of ropes and pulleys hanging from the ceiling over the edge of an above ground pool. There was no waterboarding for these fucks, it was going to be a whole-body experience, like BUD/S. As a surfer, swimmer and survivor of BUD/S—Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training he had an affinity for water. In his class, he’d been able to hold his breath the longest, his aquatic past had served him well. He closed his eyes and could almost envision knifing through the liquid with ease, his breathing even and strong. He’d excelled at every water sport he’d ever attempted. His BUD/S experience had been something he wouldn’t trade for anything. It had made him stronger, more assured, tough as nails.
BUD/S, even with the almost drowning exercise or as it was referred to combat diving, students, using swimming and diving techniques as a way to transport from the launch point to their mission objective, had prepared him for this. Every deployment had tempered him for this. He wasn’t going to give in…ever.
He trembled, shivering when he looked at Myerson’s body, partly from the cold, partly from the terror and shock, but mostly because he wanted to check him, administer first aid, save him. He was so pissed off that he was in this cell and he was so close, yet too far from him to help.
Yeah, the wet, dead lump of Myerson pissed him off, and so did the other two men in the basement, one of whom was behind him somewhere in the dark, silent and waiting, a man he’d recognized as Boris Golovkin one of their High-value targets or HVTs. Myerson had been sent in to take him, but instead, his team had been ambushed and Myerson had been taken hostage. The second team, Blue’s team had also been decimated, Tank wounded, Echo either severely wounded or killed in action in a fearless effort to protect them all. That dog…his eyes welled up, so much a part of their team. He didn’t know how Scarecrow, Hollywood, Ruckus, Kid, Wicked or Cowboy had fared, the rocket propelled grenade or RPG had blown off Blue’s helmet and fucked his comm. As their corpsman, it was his responsibility to know.
It made him sick not to know.
The other rebel HVT wasn’t a man and she was standing in full light, right in front of him—calm, in control, soft-spoken, harder than iron, and the most ruthless Kirikhan rebel second only to Boris.
Blue had memorized the rebel leaders’ bios. He knew who he was dealing with, and it galvanized him. For Natasha Golovkin, there was no tool of destruction, no obstacle too steep and no intellectual path or strategic configuration too complicated to bring to bear on current circumstances. Blue had seen firsthand what they could do.
Blue was a current circumstance, and he felt the weight of that truth with every breath he took. Even if he lived, which wasn’t a given, he’d be run to ground and ruined in a thousand unforeseen ways, ad infinitum, unless his team got him out. He was betting on those relentless bastards, hands down, every goddamn day, hoo-fuck-yah.
Trapped in this fucking place, in the bowels of God-knew-where Kirikhan, face-to-face with Natasha Golovkin, he was lost behind enemy lines. He was about to find out what the husband and wife team was capable of and make no mistake, he was in a fight for his life and his honor.
Both precious, one he could lose, but the other would redeem him, make his life worth something other than the failure of his last mission.
Honor and resistance was the way a SEAL went out.
It would be the way he went out.