Tasha Allen

I was a good girl. I ate my vegetables, volunteered at the local autism centre, and sat in the front pew of church every Sunday. Then, I got cancer. What the hell kind of reward was that for a boring life well lived? I was a 17-year-old paradigm of virtue, and I was tired of it. So, when I finally ran into the man I'd been writing to since he saved my life as a little girl and he offered to show me the dark side of life before I left it for good, I said yes.

After 20 years of service, the Navy told me it’d be too risky to operate again, forcing me to retire as a Navy SEAL. Going back to my hometown to lick my wounds and figure out what came next was never the plan. Neither was having to turn to some old friends to save my younger brother’s life when he wound up in trouble. It was smooth sailing at first. Until I realized my brother lied. And I was falling for my fake girlfriend—my brother’s ex-fiancée.