Heroes with Attitude

By Sharon Hamilton

If there was one thing you could point to that is different about Military Romance, what would it be? We have heroes in all fields: police, fire, para-rescue. But what differentiates a Military Hero from all others?

In my opinion, it's ATTITUDE.

I love the smart-mouthed quips and the making fun of things you can't do in polite society. Somehow, when you are putting your life on the line, it is totally appropriate to talk about jungle rot and chaffing balls, or the absence of tofu in a SEAL's diet. In one of Suzanne Brockman's books, the hero and his buddies were pinned down in the middle of a firefight, and they were discussing making offers on real estate as arms and limbs were being blown apart.

The smack talk conversations between the Teammates are my favorite pieces to write. Maybe my inner demon wants to have the gutter-talk they have. As a reader, my taste is for an abundance of four-letter words. I smile as I think about all the bleeps that would occur if they were quoted on TV. I like heroes who defy the odds, come up against higher authority, but get the job done anyway. I think that's why I love reading and writing SEAL stories so much.

Here's an excerpt from my latest book, SEAL Under Covers, which is releasing August 10th. SEAL Team 3 mates Fredo and the hero Armando are discussing Armando's wayward sister, real estate, and the condition of Fredo's truck.

            “So, ‘splain this to me. You save her life and the life of her baby. You buy her a fuckin’ great house in a good area, you buy her furniture and you help your mama too. And she disses you like this? I’m telling you, those demons is not only getting bigger, they’re having babies. What’s next?” Fredo responded.

            “What’s next is I’m gonna get her, bring her home and cook her a fuckin’ steak. And you’re gonna be a perfect gentleman, hear?”

            “Yessir. I get you.”

            After storing the perishables, Armando and Fredo stopped by Fredo’s apartment to pick up his  Parks Department four door beater truck. No sense exposing Armando’s black Hummer to the neighborhood to which they were headed.

Armando slid onto the torn leather bench seat and examined the contents of the cab behind him. The floor was nearly ankle-high with fast food wrappers and old milkshake and soda containers.

“Some super sleuth you’d make,” Armando said, holding his nose. “All anyone would have to do is sort through all your wrappers and receipts. They could re-create your whereabouts 24/7.”

Fredo shook his shoulders and jutted out his chin. “Just because you got an obsessive compulsive disorder for specks of dirt, don’t mean you have to insult a normal male with normal eating habits.” Fredo didn’t look back at him.

“That’s not normal,” Armando said with a thumb pointing over his shoulder.

They rounded a corner and the noise of displaced paper cups, balled up bags and wrappers was unmistakable.

Fredo put on the brakes and nearly was rear-ended. “You wanna walk? You’re usin’ my petrol for your own devious little plan. I’m just along to make sure you don’t get your ass busted.”

Armando started to open the door and Fredo grabbed his shoulder. “Get the fuck back in the truck, Armani. I’m just messin’ with you.”

“I’m just doin’ the same.” They rode in silence for a few minutes. Armando was twirling the comment Fredo had made over and over in his brain. “Obsessive compulsive?” he asked.

“No shit, Sherlock. Like you had to put plastic down on the couch yesterday before I could sit down.”

“That’s because you were working out before you came over. You was sweaty, man.”

“Yea, well don’t you get sweaty balling all those coeds on your couch, man? You think I mind if I sit my ass down on some teenage cum?”

“I don’t screw teenagers. You know that.”

Fredo humphed. The silence continued. Then Fredo spoke up. “I clean my truck on the first of every month, and always before deployment.”

“That’s a very good thing. No telling what could grow in the back seat in six months unattended. Might have to have a HazMat clearance.”

“That’s Coop’s problem, with all that Kambucha he drinks. I think it’s disgusting to drink something that’s living.”

“Well hells, bells. We finally agree on something.” Armando smiled at his Mexican friend and found Fredo chuckling as well.

What do you enjoy most about reading or writing military romance? One commenter today will receive a Kindle copy of my new book, SEAL Under Covers, on release day.