1. Colleen C.
    April 11, 2016 @ 12:39 pm

    Looking forward to what everyone shares!

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 12, 2016 @ 12:18 am

      Me, too, Colleen. I look forward to hearing about everyone’s books.

  2. Shannon Flynn
    April 11, 2016 @ 3:51 pm

    Yay! I think I’m going to actually make it to this one!

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 12, 2016 @ 12:20 am

      Hello, Shannon Flynn. What a great feeling to arrive at the beginning. However, I’m hitting the sack– see ya later… like when the sun comes up.

  3. Kathleen Rowland
    April 12, 2016 @ 12:17 am

    Whoot! The Romantic Studio is genius, particularly you, Jordan! A stay-at-home-party is already rocking while Romantic Times hasn’t even begun. Let me tell you about my giveaway prize package. A purse jewelry key finder in the shape of a black heart is a gadget that hooks on the zipper of your purse. It’s pretty but more importantly? You’ll never dig for keys again. Also in the package is a flower pen made by me, a good sized chocolate bar, and an eBook of Deadly Alliance. I hope the hero, Finn Donahue, is your kind of hero. He’s a protector but infuriates heroine, Amy Kintyre. What is about his voice that makes her panties go wet? Deadly Alliance is full of complications—mistaken identity, murder, gangs… more about that tomorrow.

  4. Kathleen Rowland
    April 12, 2016 @ 12:24 am

    Okay, that’s one prize– the key finder. I’m also giving away three more prizes. Triple winners for handy pen lights, chocolate, flower pens, Deadly Alliance ebooks. Four prizes in all because I’m thrilled to be here, party animals.

  5. Angela
    April 12, 2016 @ 10:13 am

    Love Party’s and for this one i don’t even have to leave the house LOL

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 12, 2016 @ 11:49 am

      Hi Angela, this is the best kind of party– a house party at my favourite place, The Romance Studio, where we can share about books.

  6. Kathleen Rowland
    April 12, 2016 @ 11:45 am

    Here we are “poolside with those little umbrellas in our drinks”. Remember what they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere! But– it’s mid-morning in California, and I’m having a blueberry-banana-yogurt smoothie.
    My heroine in Deadly Alliance is “girl-next-door”. Amy is a caregiver (overly so, and that’s her flaw). Why? She trusts the wrong people such as her former deceased boyfriend who was the hero, Finn Donahue’s business partner. All she wants now is a fresh start with a new job. Jobs are few in Lake Arrowhead, California. The super short excerpt below is after she finds something incriminating that could cost her the job. She is on the defensive.
    Amy rapped just once before twisting the knob. “You’re in your skivvies.” Seeing him in his boxers was a gut-punch. She inhaled a breath and nudged the door shut with her back.
    He slipped behind his desk and narrowed his eyes at her. A sexy smile showed on one side of his mouth. “You knocked. Did I say, ‘open?’ ” He looked darn incredible.
    With the scorch of embarrassment, Amy realized she was just standing there.
    “Relax. I’ve got one up on you. Remember New Years, five years ago, in the closet with Les? There you were, commando.” Finn chortled with a slap to his knee.

  7. Gail
    April 12, 2016 @ 12:41 pm

    Thank again TRS you throw the best parties

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 13, 2016 @ 8:21 pm

      This is the party place for sure, Gail.

  8. Michele Hayes
    April 12, 2016 @ 1:07 pm

    I love stay-at-home parties, I can come dressed as I want.

  9. ELF
    April 12, 2016 @ 3:11 pm

    Good to see you, Kathleen and everyone! I see I am not the only person who didn’t manage to make the trek to Vegas. Hope everyone has a great week!

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 13, 2016 @ 8:27 pm

      What a plus, Michele Hayes, we can wear whatever we want! ELF, I was hoping I’d see you here, You love the printed word, have so many talents I have friends, just as all of you do, who did make the trek to Romantic Times in Vegas. As you know they love taking pictures with the models on book covers. To tell you the truth, wouldn’t it be fun to meet the hero and heroine models on our covers. They do play a big role in the industry. How many of you do NOT judge a book by its cover?!

  10. trsparties
    April 12, 2016 @ 5:22 pm

    Thank you guys so much! And I agree about Jordan, Kathleen. He’s awesome!

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 13, 2016 @ 8:30 pm

      Jordan is a wonderful communicator. I do love all of you here at The Romance Studio. Someone VERY TALENTED made an ultra ad for Deadly Alliance. I’m grateful for the time the graphic artist took with this– it means so much to me.

  11. bn100
    April 12, 2016 @ 11:39 pm

    looks fun

    • Kathleen Rowland
      April 14, 2016 @ 2:03 pm

      Hope you’re having fun, bn100!

  12. Kathleen Rowland
    April 14, 2016 @ 2:17 pm

    Having a Tantalizing Thursday? Don’t you love those descriptions for days of the week. Did you have a Taco Tuesday? On a more serious note, I write romantic suspense which makes sense for me because if I watch TV, it’s Homeland, Bosch, 11.22.63, Blacklist. My themes tend to be dark rather than light. Deadly Alliance deals with the issue of terrorism, and I wrote it during the Paris attacks. You may remember the news at that time about a drug running cell which funded terrorists. My heart bled for all victims before and after. A dear friend of one of my sons jumped from the Twin Towers in 9/11. This topic is close to my heart.
    Is bringing something new to the table with research or breaking news better than following trends relevant to your genre? Within the genre of romantic suspense is action/adventure. Here is what a solid romantic suspense needs: DANGER. Allow me to expand. Suspense incorporates a sense of tension throughout the book with heart-pounding action, adrenaline-inducing chase, edge of your seat thrills, life-threatening situations, and dangerous criminals. These are common elements. ROMANCE. There’s a central love story. Our lovers have to traverse nail-biting adventures before they become acquainted with each other and fall in love. As an author I weave both romance and mystery. May I leave you with a word of caution? No backstory! The biggest error is over-writing and manufacturing emotions. Characters must react in the present, be honest and real. They react to their situation and to each other. Their issues are background. Life is messy. The thrill ride is dangerous, authentic, eye-widening, and passionate.

  13. Kathleen Rowland
    April 15, 2016 @ 1:00 pm

    Here’s an excerpt from Deadly Alliance–
    Finn Donahue’s break at Burlie’s Jazz Club was about to end. Familiar lyrics from the sultry tune floated through his mind long after the saxophonist stopped playing. Hold on like leaves and fall to what is left. Like the song, Autumn Leaves, he spiraled downward, failed to identify the chicken shit stealing his company’s cash. For three damn years, ten percent of the monthly deposits were sucked into a mysterious thief’s cash cow.
    The crowd wandered out. Time for him to return to gloom and doom. He pressed a hand over his throbbing forehead with enough force to leave marks. Had the thief hired a colleague? The colleague was not a car-stealing, knee-smashing, fire-setting knucklehead. His mouth went dry at the fuck’s covert method and zest for cheating him. He’d question his snake of a partner, Les Kelly, if he weren’t already dead.
    Across the room, a female patron gathered her belongings. As her ankle boots tapped toward him, a pair of shapely legs came into view.
    His head snapped up. Amy Kintyre, the late Les’s girlfriend, in the running for his bookkeeping job, spotted him.
    “Finn.” She swerved his way. “What a coincidence!” This chick lacked a pick-me-up line.
    “Hello, Amy.” He didn’t offer her a seat.
    She tilted her head to one side, studying the expression on his face. “Are we still on for nine?” She spoke with an annoying squeak.
    “We are.” He watched her lips form a tight smile as she fumbled with her little purse. Turning away, she headed for the pink-windowed door to the ladies’ room.
    His stomach did a quick, discomforting twist at the thought of working with Les’s former girlfriend. As time went on, karma between the partners slipped. Les held back. Enigmatic people had motive to protect inconsistencies. He assumed Amy hid a few. He sighed and gazed blankly around the club.
    Pendant lights offered a fuzzy softness except for the bar. Behind it, opaque glass shelves were lit with violet light. The warm personality of the owner gave the establishment a comfortable feel. Burlie was closing up. With more oil to burn at his office, he stood to cross the mosaic tile dance floor.
    The front door opened. “Sorry, we’re closed.” Holding a broom, Burlie swept behind the bar.
    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.
    Fifteen minutes later, with the injured cops heading to Bear Valley Hospital and three unfriendlies loaded into the sheriff’s prisoner-transport vehicle, Burlie signed a complaint and then gushed over Finn and Amy. “You’re good people.” After saying it several times, he asked Finn to serve as his third-party witness and then turned to Amy. “My Lord, Amy. You came to my side. Thank you.”
    When Burlie handed her a gift card, she accepted it with a smile. “I saw a lot. If you need a second witness, I can run through all of it.”
    “If you’re willing, yes.” His voice was tight.
    She offered him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Burlie. The idea of mobsters coming in and offering protection? This makes me mad.”
    Sheriff Byron McGill stood in the center of their ring. “The Irish mob has their fingers in rentals, not to mention the Harp Hotel. Burlie, I’m glad you’ll stand up.”
    Finn said, “This is new, Byron. I heard them talking. Spanish and Arabs are partnering up.”
    McGill said, “This odd blend exploded in Chicago.”
    “They exist for mutual, financial benefit. Together, they’re pushing the Irish.” Finn placed a hand on Burlie’s shoulder.
    The older man sighed, dragged his palms down his face. “I was damn scared.”
    “An Irish mobster visited the Arrowbear Café earlier. The owner didn’t want to report it.” Amy sucked in a hard breath and turned to go.
    Adrenaline spiraled through Finn’s system, leaving him jittery and pumped to high-alert; this was gangland in his backyard, not Iraq. He turned to the sheriff. “What’s your strategy, McGill?”
    “We’ll pull out the stops.” McGill raised a brow. “Keep me posted, will you? We’ll arrest these motherfuckers when they come within yards of your business.”
    “Yeah, yeah.” Burlie was not convinced. “If you harass them, they lash out on us.”
    “Take the initiative. We’ll combat this together.” Sheriff McGill headed out.
    Finn handed Burlie a twenty.
    The owner put up his hands, refusing his money. “Finn Donahue. Investment guy. I never pegged you for a force of nature.”
    He patted Burlie’s shoulder. “The situation required it.”
    “If heaven is the way I saw it tonight,” Burlie said, “count me in. Again, thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” Finn went outside and caught up with Amy on the other side of the street.
    Her gaze dipped to where his fingers wrapped around her elbow then bounced up. “Our species is flawed.”
    “Sometimes. Can I drive you home?”
    “No, I’m taking that taxi.” She blinked her eyes several times before a hearty attitude clicked into place.
    He whistled for the cab.
    “That cab isn’t going to drive itself. I’ve got the keys.” She held them high and jingled them.
    As she hurried away, he tracked her khaki jacket as she scurried along rows of cars to the taxi. After her car door shut, he headed toward his office where a long night awaited him.

TRS Parties is Stephen Fry proof thanks to caching by WP Super Cache