Kathleen, an author I met on my journey, has a blog tour running right now.
Let's check out the details, shall we?
About the Book:
One Night in Havana, City Nights Series from Tirgearr Publishing, Book 34:
One Night in Havana, City Nights Series from Tirgearr Publishing, Book 34:
A
desperate competition and sizzling attraction leads to dangerous desire.
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?
Purchase Links:
Universal Amazon link: https://bookgoodies.com/a/B07879VFYN
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-in-havana-kathleen-rowland/1127627870?ean=2940154649640
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/au/en/ebook/one-night-in-havana
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/767367
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-in-havana/id1324711235?mt=11
Publisher: http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Rowland_Kathleen/one-night-in-havana.htm
Nice cover! Congratulations on your new release!
Here is an excerpt from One Night in Havana.
--
Chapter One
“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. Octopodes 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.Octopodes 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.
His lips twitched. “You’re staying on one of the cruise ships,
am I right?” He rolled up the sleeves of his linen jacket to reveal a dusting
of manly hair.
”Yes." Her cabin served as her hotel room while attending
the January meetings with perfect high-seventies temperatures. His eyes locked
with hers. She willed herself to move and yet she remained seated, clutching
heat between her legs, a wetness so intense that her breath stalled in her
chest while her heart hammered faster. Soon she’d return to freezing New York
City.
“So, Bonita, give.” He
slid onto the bar stool next to her. “What brings you down from a lofty ship to
grace us lowly Cubans with your presence?”
Bonita. Pretty lady was not an endearment
coming from the mouth curved in a taunting smile, but not a slight either. Not
with his deep, melodic voice speaking words as if he knew secrets about her.
What secrets did he know? Would he pry into her personal life? She doubted this
bad-boy college professor acknowledged boundaries.
“Just drinks and dinner.” She scrambled for composure. “Aren’t
we attending a world-class conference? I find the local population to be
friendly and kind. That’s not slumming.”
The bartender set down a saoco.
“Hope you like it, senorita.”
“Gracias,” she said. “Very nice, served in a coconut.”
“Ah, the saoco,” Carlos said. “Rum, lime juice, sugar, and ice.
The saoco,” he repeated, disbelief heavy in his words. “Um. Wow. Once used as a
tonic for prisoners of the revolution.”
“Medicinal?” She couldn’t help it. She chuckled and sounded as
if a rusty spoon had scraped her throat raw, but it was genuine. The warm glow
in its wake was welcome and needed.
He leaned an elbow on the bar, his beer bottle with the
green-and-red Cristal label dangling between his fingers. “Be careful with that
one.” He dipped his head toward the front door as if he needed to go somewhere
soon.
That fast, the glow snuffed out. She cleared her throat and
gripped the fuzzy surface of the coconut container.
He placed a five-peso coin with a brass plug on the counter and
whirled it. The spinning motion mirrored a dizzying attraction going on in low
parts of her belly.
She cleared her wayward mind and nodded toward some artwork on the
opposite wall. “I plan to buy a painting tonight.”
“Don’t buy anything unless the seller gives you a certificate.
You’ll need one to take art from Cuba. Artists deal in euros in case you don’t
have pesos.”
She’d come prepared but said, “Thanks for the info.”
His coal-black eyes widened as he gazed from her head down to
the tiny straps around her ankles as if she wore high heels and nothing else.
“You give off a Barbie doll image,” he replied and stood up.
“Huh?”
“Where’s Ken, anyway? Kenneth Morton. He came with you to the
talks in Antarctica. Five years ago.” He grinned, and the mortification in her
belly gave way to a longing which she had no business feeling toward her
competitor.
“Ken and I broke up.” She hesitated for a moment. “You have a
gift for remembering names. Like a salesman.”
“A person’s name is, to that person, the most important and
sweetest sound. Back then I introduced myself to Ken in the men’s room.”
“I remember now. Didn’t you give a talk on a specialized pigment
in the octopus?”
“Ahh, si.” He splayed his fingers over his chest. “A pigment in
their blood is—”
“—called hemocyanin.
Turns their blood blue and helps them survive subfreezing temperatures. Were
you awarded something?”
“The antifreeze protein grant? No. It went to a deep-diving
photographer. He wasn’t chicken about getting lost or trapped under the ice.”
She slid from her stool and strutted around, jutting her chin in
and out like a chicken. “Bock, bock, bock,
bock, bock, begowwwwk.”
He chuckled. “Cute chicken dance. Very cute
in that skimpy black dress.”
Her cheeks heated, and she clutched her
necklace. He’d seen plenty of women in body-fitting attire. In Cuba, women wore dresses to
meetings. If she'd harnessed sexier mojo, she’d have livened up presentations.
Her presentations with an abundance of dull data went south. She slid back against her stool and clutched her
purse to her stomach as if the small satin bag could calm the nerves playing kickball
deep down. She belonged in her tidy New York office filled with
computers, modems, and research manuals. Not in this softly lit café where
passion oozed from a man’s pores, and artists displayed their canvases. Here
was where Havana’s trendsetters congregated, and Ernest Hemingway wrote about
desire.
“Good luck with your purchases, Veronica
Keane.”
Okay, so they weren’t going to pretend they were going head to
head for the grant.
As if he had more to say, he grinned at her, his perfect white
teeth flashing. “Do you find us different, like apples and oranges?”
“What am I, an apple or an orange?”
“Hmm. You’re an apple.” He was doing that sexy voice thing which
made her brain shut down. Heady...
It started with an unexpected spark, an instant attraction, the
jolting jab of oh-I’m-feeling-something. Something like a flashfire in her
belly, but now they were talking. “Am I the apple of desire? Want to take a
bite out of me?” She pulled in a breath. Had she really said that?
“Bonita, do I ever.”
“Tomorrow is the final ceremony.” Would she watch him walk to
the podium to accept the grant?
Wow! Love the tension. ;) Definitely a steamy tale here!
Readers, you'll have to check out this book!
☆.•°☆ GIVEAWAY ☆°•.☆
Kathleen will be awarding 3 lucky winners a $10 Amazon gift Certificate. Winners will be chosen randomly with Rafflecopter during the tour. Remember, you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.
Rafflecopter Link
Woo hoo! Thanks, Kathleen!
Let's also give kudos to Kathleen's sponsor:
Grab a copy of this new release! And don't forget to participate in the awesome giveaway!
Thank you, Kathleen, for letting us know all about your erotic romance with a touch of mystery! It sounds great! :)
About the Author:
Book
Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers
fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with an erotic love story sure to melt their
hearts. Her latest release is One Night
in Havana, #34 in the City Nights series.
Kathleen
also has a steamy romantic suspense series with Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy Alliance. Keep an icy drink handy
while reading these sizzling stories.
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.
Book
Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers
fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with an erotic love story sure to melt their
hearts. Her latest release is One Night
in Havana, #34 in the City Nights series.Author Links:
Website: http://www.kathleenrowland.com/
Blogs:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/romanticsuspense.kathleenrowland/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/rowlandkathleen
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Kathleen-Rowland/e/B007RYMF7S/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/786656.Kathleen_Rowland
Publisher: http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Rowland_Kathleen/index.htm
Kathleen's Books:
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