Meet Author Kathleen Rowland #EggcerptExchange @rowlandkathleen

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I’ve known Kathleen Rowland, today’s #EggcerptExchange author for a long time, when we both took the same basic blogging class a decade or so ago. It’s a pleasure to welcome her to my blog today to talk about her latest release, Deadly Alliance, a romantic thriller.

KR-Deadly_Alliance_by_Kathleen_Rowland-200Finbar 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.

Available at Amazon Kindle Store.

A few facts about Finn Donahue:

1. Nickname: Finn. My full name is Finbar Michael Donahue.

2. Job: I own my own investment company, but who’s the chickenshit stealing money from me?

3. Level of schooling: B.A. in finance, former Army Ranger. That was when I targeted the enemy.

Here’s a tense Excerpt from Deadly Alliance:

Amy entered the bathroom and faced a door opposite, the entrance to the Harp Hotel on the Lake. No wonder this bathroom was elegant. Waffle towels and an assortment of fragrance mists, lotions, and a milk-glass, soap pump sat on a green-marble counter next to a vintage-looking faucet. If she weren’t in a hurry, she’d spray herself with the cologne in the shamrock container.

There were two large stalls, and she peeked under the shiny white doors to make sure she wouldn’t intrude upon someone. After making sure it was empty, she headed in and hung her little handbag on a hook. About to use the toilet, she heard muffled voices. Wasn’t she alone?

Glancing upward, she spotted a vent. The voices came from a room in the hotel. Did she hear strong words? She stepped onto the toilet seat and stood on tiptoes, straining to raise herself even higher. As she peered through the vent, she realized she was looking over a balcony and onto a large conference room. This bathroom, on the second level of the parking structure, was level with the hotel’s mezzanine.

About twenty feet below, the marble floor gleamed up at her, but the scene was far from friendly business. A half-dozen men wore turbans and black, body armor with the Takbir insignia embroidered on them. The symbol, hard to ignore this year, was white Arabic writing on their rolling-sand motif flag and displayed with every hostage crisis. Flowing robes extended half-way below their shins.

The robed men surrounded four men seated with their hands on a round table. These men were held captive, she was certain. The two facing her wearing Claddagh rings on their third fingers had visited Les. The rings married them, molded them into a brotherhood. Whether they wore suits or the Levis they’d worn on their visit, they were bound together by a code of violence and silence. For years the Waterfront Roached remained an impenetrable and unstoppable force. Until now.

The Irish Mafioso appearance was as easy to recognize as the Takbir terrorists. In her hometown of Long Beach, the Waterfront Roaches went about their business in match-match suits. The Irish Kings of Cocaine ruled the warehouse district. After scrutinizing the backs of the other two suits, one wore a fedora identical to the Irish mobster at the coffee shop. Next she zeroed in on the other man with slicked back, silver hair who’d visited Les at their condo. Was an Islamic gang taking over the Irish mob’s territory?

Fearing they’d see her, she cringed, but the thugs were far below. Concentrating, she tried to make out what was happening down there. She looked through the vent. A sword gleamed upward.

Author Kathleen RowlandAuthor Bio:

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, 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 while listening to demanding character voices in her head.

Find Kathleen online at:
Website: http://www.kathleenrowland.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/rowlandkathleen
WordPress Blog: kathleenrowland.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathleen.rowland.50

Meet Bull Rider Ace Harris of Tempered Joy by @psthib #EggcerptExchange

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Meet Bull Rider Ace Harris of Tempered Joy by author Pamela S. Thibodeaux in today’s #EggcerptExchange.

Tempered Joy coverPam’s Interview of Ace Harris:

How did you get your nickname, Ace?
My full name is Adam Craig Harris the Fourth which was shortened to AC then evolved into Ace. No wonder right? LOL!

Tell us about your job.
I am a bull rider and belong to the National Intercollegiate Rodeo Association but I’m going to college to be a veterinarian. My mother was a vet and I want to follow in her footsteps. Besides as heir to a ranch, those skills will always come in handy.

Where were you born?
The Cowboy Capital of the World–Bandera, Texas.

Do you have a favorite pet?
I doubt you’d call bulls pet sbut I think they are one of God’s most noble creatures and it’s a challenge yet an honor when I can master one even if it’s only for eight seconds.

Are you wealthy, poor, or somewhere in between?
As heir to the Rockin’ H, one of the largest cattle ranches in Texas, possibly the country, I’m considered rich but more than money defines my wealth. I am super-rich in family, friends and loved ones.

Tempered Joy blurb:

All around rodeo cowboy and heir to the Rockin’ H Ranch, Ace Harris is determined not to fall in love. He’s only loved one woman in his life, his mother, and no one can even come close to filling her boots.

Lexie Morgan thinks rodeo cowboys have rocks for brains and a death wish for a soul. A broken childhood and the death of her father and best friend leave her doubting and questioning God (despite her years of religious upbringing) and afraid of love.

Can two young people who clash from the onset learn to trust in the healing power of God and find love and happiness amidst tragedy and grief?

Excerpt:

Ace clapped his hands together and blew on his fingertips for warmth. “One more time,” he implored his father. “One more time, then we’ll call it quits.”

Craig nodded. “Okay Ace. That old bull is getting tired, so is this one.”

Ace grinned. “Old my foot, you love it and you know it. Makes you think of your younger days.”

Craig grunted. “My younger days were not spent chasing bulls.”

Ace laughed. “No? Chasing what then?”

“Never you mind,” his father replied with a grin while the ranch hands penned the bull in the chute.

Ace was gearing up for the last rodeo of the year before his final shot at the National High-School Championships. He’d been on top since before his freshman year and determined to stay there. When other boys practiced on mechanical bulls, he used real ones, because nothing compared to the feel of fifteen hundred pounds of muscle and madness beneath him. One could never predict what the bull was going to do. All he could do was prepare for the worst and hang on for all his worth.

Eight seconds was all he needed and eight seconds was his goal. Eight seconds that seemed like an eternity. He picked the biggest and meanest bulls on the ranch. When he stayed on, he picked another one, until he, the bulls, or his father gave out. Then he got up the next morning to repeat the process. High school, then college championships, and after that, the pros. He still hadn’t convinced his mother that he could do it, that he wanted it. Just for a while. He loved her and understood her fears, and often used his whole being to tease her out of them. But professional bull riding was his dream. He knew it would have to be a short dream. His life was ranching. As heir to the Rockin’ H, he understood what was expected of him. He understood the importance of it, and appreciated it. But this was something he wanted to do just for himself.

As a child he’d been the butt of many “shrimp” jokes. Born premature he’d always been smaller than other boys his age. Petted and coddled by his mother and older sister, and overprotected at every turn by his whole family, had not made matters any easier.

Time had given him height. Years of weight training and bull riding added breadth, width, and strength to his lean frame, and gave him a sense of self-respect and equality with his peers. He didn’t think of it as egotism or pride, he loved the sport. He loved the animals. In his opinion bulls were one of God’s most noble creatures and he enjoyed conquering something so majestic even if only for eight seconds.

Purchase Links:

Kindle http://amzn.to/1uto0eH
Amazon Print: http://amzn.to/1xwIx12
Nook http://bit.ly/11zMuVx
B&N Print: http://bit.ly/1vpUpoG
Smashwords http://bit.ly/14KH0bX

Author bio:Pamela S Thibodeaux

Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”

Links:

Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com
Blog: http://pamswildroseblog.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/pamelasthibodeaux
Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/pamelasthibodea/