Showing posts with label @Tirgearr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label @Tirgearr. Show all posts

Thursday, January 11, 2018

One Night in Havana - @Tirgearr #Romance #MFRWauthor #NewRelease @RowlandKathleen



Released: January 2018
ISBN: 9781370786138
ASIN: B07879VFYN
Kindle USKindle UK

Smashwords  Apple,   Kobo,  Nook



New York Marine biologist Veronica “Roni” Keane is attending the Havana Bay Conference in Cuba. Tomorrow only one grant will be awarded which will provide the winner with professional recognition, resources for a project, and living expenses for two years. She hopes to continue her deceased father’s work, but smooth operator, Carlos Montoya, has won many grants in the past.

Carlos, a freelancer for the Havana Port Authority, works to help protect Havana’s reputation as a bastion of safety. As international travelers flock to the island, attracted by its 1950’s time-warp and colonial architecture, the drug business is running rampant, particularly on Roni’s cruise ship. Something’s not right, and when her scuba tanks are tampered with, Carlos brings in the military police to investigate. For her safety, he keeps her close, but he craves her body.

Their attraction leads to a fun night with a bit of kink. But Roni finds herself in more trouble than she bargained for when the criminals blame her for alerting the military police and come looking for her. Can Roni trust Carlos to protect her? Will she stay in Havana if Carlos wins the coveted grant, or kiss her lover goodbye?



Excerpt

“Why, Veronica Keane.” A voice heavy with a Spanish accent drawled from behind her. “A dive bar?” A taunting tsk. “What do we have? A slumming New Yorker?”
She stiffened and closed her eyes. She knew that voice and its owner, Dr. Carlos Montoya, a finalist like her, competing for the same damn grant at the biggest Cephalopoda conference of the decade. Her heart pitter-pattered against her ribs. To turn toward him would intimate distress, or worse yet, weakness. She wouldn’t fail to win this grant, not when she was a final contender. “I like this funky little place.” Sia Macario Café, smack in the center of Havana, allowed her to observe locals and their daily lives.


“You need to eat with all the mojitos you’ve downed.” The big tease wasn’t counting. This was her first drink, but his rumbling, sexy timbre hinted at all kinds of dark, hot promises. She’d rubbed shoulders with the Cuban scientist all week. This splendid specimen of Latin male brought on a physical ache that punched low.



A flare-up stirred fear. For her own good, she needed to resist. “I ordered camarones enchiladas.” By now she knew the menu on the chalkboard by heart. She tipped her head back to whiff grilled shrimp soon to arrive in sofrito sauce with fried sweet plantains.



“The flan is good. Just like my abuela makes.”



“I bet. Your grandmother would be happy to hear that,” she said, knowing he brought out the best in most people. Two days ago he'd invited her and a handful of others scuba diving. The chance to ogle him had been one of the perks. He’d worn nothing but swim trunks, his bare chest on display. Every glistening muscle was finely etched. Not a drop of fat on him. Since he’d not given her the time of day, she’d checked him out without him noticing.



The hard-bodied host had led the way toward habitats of soft-bodied creatures. To find where invertebrates lived was never an easy task. Octopuses squeezed into narrow passages of coral for protection and gave females a place to keep their eggs. She’d discovered the remains of a few meals nearby. Octopuses scattered rocks and shells to help them hide.



This grant meant so much to her and no doubt to him as well. Veronica mindlessly toyed with the gold necklace around her neck, but anxiety crackled through her brain. Unlike this man of action, she lacked the flamboyant personality necessary to talk people into things. Carlos had that ability. He'd made friends with judges on board while she’d conversed with an older woman about a box of scones made with Cuban vanilla cream.



That day the wind had picked up to a gale force, and this woman named Bela with Lucille Ball red hair needed help walking to her home. The half mile down the seaside promenade, The Malecón, had provided her with time to practice her Spanish. Turned out Bela was Carlos’s grandmother. She’d worked as a maid when the Castro government came to power. When private homes were nationalized, titles were handed over to the dwelling occupants. Bela owned a crumbling home in the respected Verdado district and rented out rooms.



What Veronica detested about Carlos was his abnormal level of talent for schmoozing. Not that he wasn't charismatic; he drew her like a powerful magnet with emotions hard to untangle. Why was a self-assured woman who ran her own life thinking about a man who commanded everyone around him?



She inhaled a breath and turned around on the barstool, caught fast by a gut punch of Carlos Montoya in the flesh. She sighed and surrendered to the tendrils of want sliding up between her thighs.



Tall and muscular, his lush dark hair curled to his collar giving him a wild, roguish appearance. His face was lean and chiseled. His mouth full and tempting. His eyes the smoky-gray of a grass fire and fringed with black lashes as dense as paintbrushes. He smiled. A faint hint of mockery curved his mouth, a sensual mouth she imagined to be either inviting or cruel. Or both at the same time when he leaned over a woman with a diamond-hard gleam in his dark eyes while she drowned with pleasure. She fought a fierce desire to run her hand across his broad chest, tip her face upward, and…



His breath tickled her face.



Not going there. She blinked and forced her mind to focus. Carlos Montoya was not the kind of man you lost focus around. But that image of putting her mouth full on his and peeling away his shirt once introduced in her mind was impossible to expunge. Pointless even to try.



He was an intimidating blend of intellect and sexy danger. Both qualities had her leaning back against the bar’s edge. If it weren’t for him, she’d have a chance at winning the grant.

What reviewers say about Kathleen Rowland's books:

 Intervenus Series book 1, A Brand New Address, took 2nd place in the Book Buyers Best Contest. This is a New Adult Interracial novel. The Romance Studio-- Windward Whisperings. Kathleen Rowland spins a creative story with romance, passion and suspense making it an adventure hard to put down. The banter she creates between the two lovers is spine-tingling robust in this keeper of a read. http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/windwardwhisperingsrowland.htm

Midwest Book Reviews-- Deeds of Deceit. Circled by the bloodthirsty and untrusting, you learn to appreciate the few allies you have. Deeds of Deceit is an excellent addition to any thriller assortment. http://www.midwestbookreview.com/sbw/mar_12.htm 

 Long and Short Reviews-- A Key to all that Glitters is a mesmerizing love story that vibrates with love and suspense. http://longandshortreviews.blogspot.com/2009/05/key-to-all-that-glitters-by-kathleen.htm 

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts. Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels. She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji. 

 Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California. Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, at their poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors. While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write while listening to demanding character voices in her head. And, she has the love of her life all to herself again.



Best of luck on your new book, Kathleen,

Tina





Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Deadly Alliance @RowlandKathleen and #Holiday #Recipe @Tirgearr #romanticsuspense



Please welcome Kathleen Rowland, author of heart-stopping action-packed romantic suspense.  Kathleen rings in the holidays with healthy Goat Cheese Tartlets with Spiced Apple-Fig Compote.  This festive appetizer is 50 calories per serving and makes 30 tartlets.
Ingredients


  • 30 item(s) mini phyllo shell(s)
  • 1/3 cup(s) fat-free cream cheese, softened
  • 1/3 Tbsp soft-type goat cheese, softened (1/3 cup)
  • 1 item(s) egg white(s)
  • 2 Tbsp honey
  • 1 Tbsp all-purpose flour
  • 2 medium Granny Smith apple, peeled, coarsely grated (about 3/4 cup)
  • 1/2 cup(s) jam, fig variety
  • 1/8 tsp ground allspice
  • 1/4 cup(s) mint leaves, fresh, for garnish
Instructions
  1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Arrange phyllo shells on a cookie sheet.
  2. In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer, combine cream cheese, goat cheese, egg white, honey and flour until thick and creamy, about 5 to 6 minutes; spoon 1 teaspoon of filling in each shell. Bake until set, about 15 minutes; remove from oven and let cool.
  3. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine apple, jam and allspice; set over medium heat. Cook, stirring frequently, until jam melts and mixture thickens slightly (juice from apples will evaporate); remove from heat and let cool to room temperature. Just before serving, spoon 1 teaspoon apple compote onto each tart; garnish with mint. Yields 1 tartlet per serving.


Here is the blurb for Deadly Alliance:

Finbar Donahue, former Army Ranger, walked on the wild side in Iraq, but now he lives in the shadows. After his evasive partner, Les, was shot in a random drive-by, Finn discovers cash is siphoned monthly. He fights to keep his investment company afloat. When the late partner’s girlfriend, Amy Kintyre, applies for his bookkeeping job, Finn suspects she knows about his company drain and hires her.
Amy needs a nine-to-five with free evenings and weekends to get her fashion design business back on track. She unearths Les’ s secret bank account and alerts Finn. Freezing of the money laundering account sets off havoc within an Irish gang. Amy witnesses a gang fight between a brutal ISIS fundraising organization and the Irish. Desperate to escape a stalker’s crosshairs, she seeks refuge with Finn. As danger heats up, sparks fly hotter.

Deadly Alliance Excerpt:
The front door opened.
“Sorry, we’re closed.” Holding a broom, the owner of the bar swept behind the bar. Burlie didn’t look up.
Finn stepped closer. Drunken merrymakers, they were not. His heart hammered like it was stuck in overdrive.
“We offer protection.” Speaking with a Spanish accent, the shortest of the trio dressed like the others, and donned the ISIS-style  black ski mask.  
“I have protection.” Burlie’s big mouth nailed his coffin.
A second thug grabbed the bartender’s hand and pulled out clippers. “You’ll change your mind, one finger at a time.”
“I just paid the Irish.” Panic burrowed into Burlie’s high-pitched cry. He thrashed his arms as he tried to pull his hand back.
“Us you pay.”  His utterance with the object in the first position identified him as an Arab speaker.  Light glinted off shiny metal.  The thug pulled a combat knife, grabbed Burlie’s arms, spun him, put the blade to his neck. Finn dialed 911 and then shouted, “Finn Donahue here. Gang trouble. Burlie’s Jazz Club.”  To grab their attention even more, he heaved in a breath and released a long whistle. His distraction worked.
Burlie broke from the hold, and Finn thanked God for the curious.
“Where are you?” Heavy boots pounded toward him.
Finn’s phone vibrated, but he killed the call and darted into the first door he saw, the one with the frosted pink window. He spotted Amy at the sink and pointed his index finger up.
He took off his coat and wrapped it around his fist. After rapping on the glass, he wound up and threw a hard punch through the window. Glass splintered as he connected with the thug’s nose. Prepared to jump aside, he opened the door.
Amy followed and jumped over the guy spread on the floor, holding a hand over his bleeding nose.
 He struggled to stand. Finn patted him down, took his gun, and pointed it at him. After the guy stood, Finn walked him to a chair. “Don’t move.”
“I’ll phone the police.” A high-pitched squeal came from the back of her throat. “Never mind. Police are here.”
From the street, the blue light of a cop car radiated across the club’s interior like a strobe. Uniforms burst through the door.
The first officer made radio contact with homicide, and the second, much younger, rushed to the nearest thug and pulled out flex-cuffs.
“Stand over there, Amy.” Finn motioned toward a corner.
She rolled her eyes and dashed toward Burlie who wrestled with the Arab and tried to keep him from moving toward the young rookie. Amy pulled an item from her purse. A Swiss army knife? Out came a miniature cork screw.
The rookie cop turned the Arab around to be handcuffed and leaned him against a wall. The thug used the hard surface as leverage to throw himself against him.
Finn saw it coming. A switchblade sprung from the Arab’s sleeve. In a split second, he drove it into the cop’s shoulder, but Amy stabbed him in the back with the wine opener.
The Arab spun and pulled a knife from his jeans’ pocket. Amy dodged, but he thrust it into a cop’s gut before running.
Finn waited for an opening and shot him in the hip.
 Howling about uncivilized barbarians, he dropped.
Up from his chair, the loser with the broken nose swung his fists, raining blows and a kick to the nuts which Finn deflected.
“Don’t make me shoot you.” Finn stunned him with a chop to the neck, caught him in a headlock. With a gun at his back, he marched him forward.
Amy broke into the center of the room and turned around, taking in the menacing scene. The girl-next-door had street smarts, competency with the corkscrew, and fearless determination.
He walked over and touched her weapon-holding hand. “You didn’t have pocket-knife experience on your resume.” It didn’t make her invincible. Nor did it mean he should hire her.
She shook her head. “Never used it this way. It’s handy when hiking She looked at her pocket knife, folded and stuffed it in her pocket.  Her eyes blinked in frenzy in spite of her bravery.

Buy links:
Amazon US
http://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Alliance-Kathleen-Rowland-ebook/dp/B019EE5OP8/
Amazon UK
Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deadly-alliance-kathleen-rowland/1123141145?ean=2940152523393
US
http://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Alliance-Kathleen-Rowland-ebook/dp/B019EE5OP8/

* * *

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts.   Lily’s Pad and the Intervenus Series: A Brand New Address and Betrayal at Crater’s Edge are sweet.  Deadly Alliance and her work-in-progress, Unholy Alliance, are contracted with Tirgearr Publishing and written for adults.
Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.
Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.  If you’d enjoy news,  sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at http://www.kathleenrowland.com/








Thanks Kathleen for sharing. I will have to try those tartlets,

Tina