Romance Novel Excerpts: Book #4 | The Navy Seal Brotherhood | BWWM Brotherhoods Series


Coming this February is something a little new for all of y'all. You may have read London Brotherhood Book I, Book II, and Book III. This month, Jamila Jasper presents Book IV: The Navy SEAL Brotherhood. So uhhhh... Why are you doing this? You might be asking yourself. Not everyone loves mafia romance and in 2019, I wanted to write a LONG interconnected series so we may not say "final" goodbyes to our characters and we can cherish them all year long. I also wanted to build a connected universe where events in one part of the series may play a big impact later on.

That being said, I know why y'all are here. Hell, it's why I'm here. We love romance stories. We love steamy scenes, sexy white men, and all the thrills that come with it.This book will have all of that. And the bonus? You can read this as a standalone or continue the series. You won't be missing out. OK, I've chatted a lot about this book. All of this to say that if you're looking for what is expected to be one of the top romance novels of the year from Jamila Jasper, a Navy SEAL bad boy romance or if you just love romantic stories, you'll want to check this one out. Read the FREE sample below.

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Romance Novel Excerpts | Book #4 | The Navy SEAL Brotherhood 


“I don’t want to hear another word of complaint. Usmanov is paying us each five figures for a two day trip and I know all of you motherfuckers need the money.”

We stood shoulder to shoulder, at attention, as Tyrese walked back and forth in front of us with a mean look in his eye, desperate to convince us that this mission was worth an iota of our time.

“CHUBB!” Tyrese barked, “With the gut you’ve been putting on, I know you need money for more food.”

Chester Chubb’s sallow cheeks turned scarlet. Tyrese stopped in front of Robbie next.

“PEÑA! Your mamá needs her rent paid and we all know it. If you stopped spending money on liquor and girls, maybe you wouldn’t still be here.”

Robbie didn’t flinch at Tyrese’s denigrations. By now we were all accustomed to his method of motivation. Tyrese’s boots crunched into the earth.

“HARWOOD! You don’t need the money, but you’re a crazy motherfucker and we can’t do this shit without you.”

“YES, SIR!” I replied.

Tyrese continued.

“ELLIS! We need you ‘cause you’ve got a kid in every country your sorry ass set foot in and when these ladies come knocking on your door for child support, you’ll need every dime you can get.”

“YES, SIR!” Bubba Ellis shouted, with a vigor that only a man who has successfully dodged child support in multiple countries for a decade could muster.

“ZHANG! Stand up straighter, boy. We need you more than anybody ‘cause you’re the only motherfucker who can keep these bastards in line. NOW, DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY MORE COMPLAINTS?”

“NO, SIR!” We responded in unison.

“Excellent. At ease gentlemen. Let’s review the mission after training tomorrow. I want all of you there at 0800 sharp.”


“Good. You’re dismissed.”

An intense morning workout left all of us dripping in sweat. Six months ago, we’d begun our work as a team rooting out Muslims in the desert and tracking Syrian ex-pats who might have been spies out in Kuwait. Our last teams had… disintegrated so to speak. Tyrese and I were the only ones to survive a mishap out in Iraq, and he’d been promoted to team leader of this new band of America’s most dangerous soldiers. SEAL Team Gamma formed six months ago and since then we’d been on mission after mission in the desert, interspersed with week-long training camps in the harshest climates in the world from the Australian outback to Siberia. When we heard about Tyrese’s latest plan for us while we waited for our next government contract, none of us were thrilled.

In the locker room after our intense workout, we stripped down, except Ellis, who never showered after workouts, and lathered up. Peña was pissed. So was Chubb. Zhang never let anything ruffle him and didn’t talk much anyway.

“Lorde has lost his damn mind,” Chubb grunted with his harsh Georgia twang.

“A princess,” Peña sneered, “We’re Americas most dangerous soldiers and he expects us to transport a fucking princess.” 

“He’s lost his damn mind,” Chubb replied.

Zhang added calmly, “We’re getting paid, at least. Well.”

“Fuckin’ chinks only care about money,” Chubb sneered.

“Watch your language,” I retorted, “That ‘chink’ is your brother.”

“Whatever,” Chubb replied, “Ain’t like he minds.”

Tim Zhang remained quiet, coating his body in soap. We’d lost our shyness about showering together during bootcamp. It made no difference who was naked and for how long anymore. We’d seen too much together and been in too many situations where showers were never an option to be too particular about it.

“We leave tomorrow too. A Russian princess, what the hell does she look like you think?” Chubb asked.

Peña snickered, “I’m sure you’d like to give it to her but you’ve got to get through Ellis first.”

Chubb hollered, “Ellis? That motherfucker can’t have any more kids without his wife losing her damn mind on him. See I know women, Penny, I know women, and she’s had it up to here with his cheating.”

“What do you know about women, Chubb?” 

“Hey, I’m married motherfucker. I’ve been married. More than you can say.”

“I don’t need marriage to get what I want from women.”

“OHHH, burn!”

“Shut up, Penny,” Chubb snarled.

He’d never learned to pronounce Robbie’s last name right so he called him whatever his little Southern mind told him too — often some butchered version of Robbie’s actual name. This week he’d settled on “Penny”. 

“She’s a spoiled Russian princess,” I reminded them, “It’ll be over and done with in two days. It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m sure she looks like Ivanka,” Chubb said, practically drooling.

Robbie and I wrinkled our noses in disgust.

“Ivanka Trump looks like the bottom of my shoe,” Robbie snickered.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile, knowing that it wouldn’t take more than that to get under Chubb’s skin. He threw a punch, and Robbie dodged it easily. Robbie tossed the soap to me and I lathered up, cracking a smile as I watched the two idiots try to wrestle each other naked. Robbie at least, seemed to be enjoying himself. Chubb finally caught hold of him and threatened him, but before he could land an actual punch, Robbie managed to diffuse the guy’s anger and he let go.

“Fuckin’ beaner,” Chubb muttered under his breath.

“Careful, Chet,” Robbie replied.

Chubb scowled, but he didn’t push Robbie any further. We left the locker and went our separate ways. I didn’t say much, but I had my own questions about what Tyrese was playing at. He didn’t explain it too well when I asked him privately. All I heard was that he owed someone — not the Russian — and that this man, some Oliver Cook, had saved his ass a long time ago. He owed him, and now, we were about to fly some Russian chick from New York City to Europe. This wasn’t exactly in the purview of the SEALs usually, except this woman’s father was a Russian oligarch and a US diplomat with enough clout in the country to make it a matter of national security. It didn’t make much sense to me, but Tyrese said all he was gonna say about it and it’s not my place to question my team leader. Start doing that and the whole team falls apart quick.

We had all we needed to know: One Russian chick needed to be brought safely from point A to point B. We had permission from Tyrese and high command to do the job, and once we were done, we’d get paid enough money to kick back and relax.

The next morning, I woke up at 0400, did calisthenics until I couldn’t breathe and then I pumped iron until my muscles shook. An easy mission like this meant busting my balls in the gym so I didn’t get lazy. I finished my workout a 0630 and downed breakfast: a protein shake with raw eggs, spinach, goat milk and ice. A day hasn’t begun until I’ve worked myself to the bone. The addiction to the endorphins kept my ass out of all the trouble liquor tried to get me into.

I showed up at the meeting place at 0745. Zhang was the only one there. He crouched outside the building in a squat with his eyes closed.

“What are you doing, fuckin’ meditating?”

Zhang opened one eye.

“Good morning, Mace.”

“Where are the guys?”

“Not here.”

“Not even Tyrese?”


“Mind getting on your fuckin’ feet?”

Zhang rose slowly out of his squat, balancing on one foot before putting the other down.

“You’re a fuckin’ freak show, Zhang.”

“Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a fuckin’ compliment.”

“I know,” Zhang replied.

Man that guy didn’t let anyone ruffle his feathers. Not even me. We waited a few more minutes. Robbie showed up next, then Tyrese, then Chubb, then Ellis. Our six man team assembled right at 0758 — early enough not to cause Tyrese to blow a fuse.

“Now that you’re all here, we’ll go to the office across the street. Look smart fellas. Usmanov is a tough guy and despite his protected status by our government, don’t think for an instant that he isn’t dangerous. Any perceived slight and I can’t control what happens to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Our voices sounded in perfect unison, like our training had taught us. We were one voice and one brotherhood whenever we wore the uniform. We walked in single file, steps in line with one another across the street. This part of the city was barely awake. An old Jewish woman selling roses was the only sign of life. She pretended not to be eyeing us curiously, but I could sense we were an unusual sight for this part of the city. Tyrese rapped his fists against an old wooden door.

A voice barked back in Russian. Tyrese responded some mumbo-jumbo I couldn’t understand and then the door opened. A dark haired man with icy blue eyes glowered at us and spat a single English word.


“Fellas, pull ‘em out,” Tyrese commanded.

We pulled out our IDs and the Russian checked them like he meant it. One at a time, he allowed us in. They were all armed, though if we’d meant business, their weapons wouldn’t have done any good. Each of us could take down three grown men, weapons or not. We were warriors. Guns were just a bonus. We walked down a long hallway. The deeper we got into the house (if you could call it that) the stronger the stench of vodka. At the end of the hallway, the fella who led us there pushed the door open and we entered a large study. Tyrese whistled and the six of us stood shoulder to shoulder in order of rank. 

It was clear who the Russian was, but I couldn’t figure out where his daughter was. He had a young woman standing next to him. I assumed she was his mistress. Her skin was dark, so dark that it was almost purple. She was tall, too. And skinny. 

“Mister Usmanov, thank you for agreeing to meet with us. These men are the proud soldiers of SEAL Team Gamma. They’re brave, smart, and best suited for the protection of your daughter.”

Oleg nodded.


His soldier left the room. We stood at attention, looking Oleg Usmanov dead in the eye. 

“Introduce yourselves,” he commanded, taking the reins of leadership from Tyrese effortlessly.

“Robert Pena, sir.”

“Thomas Zhang, sir.”

“Mace Harwood, sir.”

“Chester Chubb, sir.”

“Bubba Ellis, sir.”

Oleg nodded.

“Milena, step forward.”

The dark-skinned woman standing next to him took a step forward.

“This is my daughter, Milena Aminata Usmanov.”

The dark-skinned girl bowed her head.

“Hello,” she said quietly.

None of us dared say a word, but we were all thinking it. How the hell could a man the color of a fresh snow have a daughter as dark as a blackberry. Tyrese held his head high, as Oleg stared at each one of us, analyzing us with a vicious stare. I could smell the vodka on his breath, but he was by no means drunk. He walked down the line of us, just like Tyrese did.

“I want you to take my daughter away tonight. Do you understand?”

We paused for a beat. Tyrese nodded.

“Yes, sir!” 

“If anything happens to her, I have your names. I know your families. Even you, Mister Ellis, I know how many children you have. I can name more of your children than you can. Da?”

“Yes, sir!” We repeated.

“Take care of my daughter. If not, I do not need to say what will happen. Da?”

“Yes, sir!”


Oleg rested his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Aminata, you are to go with these men.”


“Aminata, we discussed this. You are in danger. I promised protection.”

“I expected bodyguards, papa, not this.”

She still hadn’t looked us in the eye. Oleg rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and she brusquely brushed him off. 

“No, papa. I will not go with them.”

“This is not discussion, Aminata,” he growled, his English slipping as his daughter’s disobedience turned his cheeks a flush mauve.

“I don’t see why I have to leave.”

“It is not safe,” Oleg growled, visibly unamused to have his word questioned in front of his fresh hires.

“I am not going to leave, papa. You can’t make me!”

Her accent was surprisingly cosmopolitan. Except when she said papa, she would have sounded completely American, but with a nondescript accent that only comes from picking up the sounds of intonations of Americans from Texas to Boston. 

Oleg removed his hand from his daughter’s shoulders forlornly.

“I’m sorry, Milena.”

Her expression softened.


Oleg interrupted her before she could continue.

“Gentlemen, are you ready to prove you’re worth the money I spent?”

We waited for his command.

“Take her.”

“Sir, take her?”

“By any means necessary — without harming her,” he added the last bit as an after thought.

Hearing her papa suggest that she was now at our mercy sent the poor woman into what can only be described as a fit of madness. Her eyes widened and she turned away from us, forgetting the dignity and manners that had made her seem so poised and collected before. She screamed at her father.

“Papa, are you crazy!”

“I’m sorry, Aminata.”

“You’re crazy! None of you will tell me what’s going on. Not Vasily! Not Feodor!”

Tyrese nodded and Bubba Ellis lunged forward and grabbed the woman around her waist.


Oleg nodded and muttered, “Gentlemen…” before exiting the room. I guess he wanted us to do the dirty work but that didn’t mean he had to sit there and watch it happen before his very eyes. His daughter’s squealing hadn’t let up. Despite his size, Bubba struggled to hold onto her.



Robbie jumped in to help Ellis, and kicking and screaming, we took her out of the building and tossed her in the back of the car. The old Jewish woman was no longer selling her flowers, and the streets were empty. In the back of the soundproof vehicle, Robbie and Bubba sat on either side of her. I hopped into the driver’s seat and Tyrese in the passenger side. The other two followed in their own car. We put up the partition between the two of us, drowning out her sound even further.

Despite all that, she screamed for a full hour before she must have tired out and fallen asleep. Ellis put the partition down just a tad after she was quiet. Yes, she was definitely asleep.

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