Guest Interview–Kathy L. Wheeler

Welcome to an author friend I met through an online author community.

How about you introduce yourself by providing the basics?

I write contemporary and historical romance. I’ve been writing since 2007, and wished I’d started back in the 70s!

Where were you raised?

I was raised in Texas, the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, and Boulder/Longmont, Colorado.

Family members?

I have 2 sisters, 2 brothers, 1 daughter (who just had a baby), 1 husband, and 1 cat.

Did you attend college?

I graduated from the University of Central Oklahoma with a BA in Management Information Systems and a vocal minor in music.

What’s your favorite sport to watch?

NBA Thunder Basketball. And it’s been a rough year. **sigh**

Did you always want to be a singer? YES; Computer programmer? I thought I did. Writer? I never knew how much I would love it.

Are you a pet person?

I love animals. But it’s very hard when something happens to them. I love my cat. She’s quite adorable, demanding, sweet, and demanding! Right! She’s very demanding.

Do you have any hobbies?

I love to karaoke, hang out with my Martini Club 4 friends, writer friends. I just joined the YMCA, so I haven’t met anyone there yet. Of course, basketball, NFL, travel.

List your favorite movie of all time.

An Affair to Remember with Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant.

Where did you go for your most recent vacation?

Well, in February I went to Seattle to see my dad. I went from OKC through Denver and my brother ended up on the same plane! In January, I went to San Francisco to see my daughter and her new little boy. He’s adorable, though it took me two days to get up the nerve to hold him.

Is there a place you’d always wanted to visit?

I’m dying to go to Ireland. I’ve already been to London, Paris, Köln, Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona, Avignon, Vancouver, Victoria, Grand Cayman, Hawaii…(now I’m just bragging)

Reckless (2)_resized

BLURB for Reckless, part of the Martini Club 4 series

Lady Margaret turned Lady Bootlegger…

Singer Margaret (Meggie) Montley needs money…fast. Her friend is in a dire situation with nowhere to turn. While Meggie is on the brink of stardom, it’s not soon enough to save her friend.

Harry Dempsey is out to avenge the deaths of his father and brother at the hands of a ruthless gangster. But trouble spirals out of control when Meggie Montley shows up the night he meets his nemesis to settle the score. Saving the impetuous woman from a crime lord might be easier than saving her from her own reckless behavior.






“He’ll be here. He’ll be here,” Butch snapped.

“What the hell is his name?”

Butch barked out a laugh. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Harry? I’ve never seen you this out of sorts. Ah, need a boff, do ya? I saw you talking to Alyce. I’m pretty sure—”

Meggie cringed. Did Harry have a thing for “The Kitchen”?

“That’s enough,” Harry growled. “His name.”

“Sid. Flash is sending him over. Keep an eye out for him, I’ll be in the office if you need me.” Butch slipped inside.

This was it. Now or never. Meggie pulled her cap down over her brow and stepped from her hidden place among the bushes.

“Sid? ’Bout damn time,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

With a steady pace, Meggie edged her way to Harry, knees threatening to give way. Harry’s mood kept her quiet and watchful. With the grace of mountain lion, he leaped up in the bed of the truck. Her first real attack of fear slammed her when she gaged the height at which she’d need to somehow maneuver and appear masculine. She stole a glance at Harry who watched her, with curled lips. She threw out a gloved hand. The curled lip shifted to a disgusted smirk, but with a grunt he hauled her up. Just like the Harry she believed him to be.

He banged on the ceiling and the truck jerked into motion, tossing her to the straw covered floor.

Lightweight. Harry turned his gaze out to the street. The boy couldn’t have been more than sixteen, though that mustache was pretty full for one so young and slight. “You been doing this long, Sid?” His shirt was too damned white.

The kid just grunted, leaned back and pulled his cap further over his face.

Harry decided to do the same. No sense wasting unnecessary words. These weren’t the assignments where a man made lifelong friends. Pelham was an hour’s drive. They’d catch the boat out to the Long Island Sound. Hell, he’d be lucky to make it home by six.

The depth of night meant less traffic and faster time. The usual sixty minute trek took forty-five. The truck lurched to a stop and Harry jumped out. The kid attempted the same, barely avoiding a conk on his head but for Harry’s grab on his arm. The maneuver sent his cap flailing. Jesus, the kid needed food, he had no muscle.

Harry narrowed his eyes on the brown, lackluster hair tied back with a black strap. Sid jerked his arm from Harry’s hold and swooped his cap from the ground.

A whiff of something vaguely familiar—soft and floral, flowers of the hothouse variety, tingled his nostrils. A not-so-good feeling started deep in Harry’s gut. The kid jammed his cap on his head, stepping back. Roses.

“Meggie,” he whispered harshly.

The kid whipped his head around, facing him, mustache slightly off center. Angled like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

“What the fu—” He stopped himself from letting his vulgar language touch such delicate ears.

“Boat’s ready for you, cap’n.”

Harry jerked ramrod straight. “Give us a minute, Marco.”

“Sure thing, cap’n, but time’s a wastin’, they won’t give you too long. You know the score.”

“Yeah, yeah. I said a minute,” he growled. He turned back to his companion, fury surging through his veins. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He kept his voice to a whisper. The danger temperature just hit the hundred mark.

Her brilliant eyes flashed. “I need blunt. And this seemed the quickest way to obtain it.” Her clipped British accent was low but definitely the same distinct voice that haunted his dreams night after night.

“The butt of a cigar? What the hell are you talking about?” The effort to keep his voice low was building the pressure in his skull.

“Money. Cash. Currency,” she said just as hotly.

“For what!”

“For—” she stopped, mouth gaping. It snapped shut. “Never you mind—cap’n—I-I have my reasons.”

“I’ll give you the god damned money. How much?” He glanced over his shoulder.

A figure stood on the bow of the boat. “What’s the hold up, cap’n? Time’s a’wastin’.”

She followed his gaze. “One thousand dollars.”

“One thous—are you out of your fuc—” Harry pulled himself up. “What the hell for?”

“Keep your voice down.” She raised herself up. She looked magnificent, despite the crooked mustache. Only where the hell were her curves?

“What for?”

Her gaze dropped to her feet. “I can’t say.”

“God almighty. Do you know what kind of people these are? What kind of danger you’re putting yourself in? Me in?”

That jerked her head up.

“These men don’t give a shit whether you are the biggest star on the Silver Screen or the lowest life in the subway.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Tears glinted on her lashes.

“Oh, for God’s sake. You’ll damn sure give us away if you blubber like a girl.” He squinted out in the dark. “I can’t very well leave you here. You’ll have to come with me.” He rested his gaze back on her. “Keep that hat low on your head and don’t say a fucking word. If they kill me, you can bet when they find your body there won’t be anything recognizable.” He felt like an ass letting the curse words fly. But if something happened to her—it didn’t bear thinking about. Then, to see her lips tremble. Hell. “I don’t suppose you know how to use a gun.”

“I-I used one on stage once,” she whispered.

Compressing his lips, he tugged the Luger from his trousers at his lower back, hidden beneath his jacket. “Damn thing’s loaded.” He grabbed her hand, its utter femininity reaching through her glove. How had he missed that when he’d hauled her into the truck? He was an idiot.

Shoving away fear that centered deep within his belly, he positioned the gun in her hand, showing her the proper hold. “If you have to shoot, try to aim it in someone else’s direction. Stay behind me.”

He let out a held breath at her shaky nod.

“Let’s go. And straighten the mustache.”

Kathey Wheeler

Kathy L Wheeler has a BA degree from the University of Central Oklahoma in Management Information Systems that includes over forty credit hours of vocal music.  As a computer programmer the past fifteen years, she utilizes karaoke for her vocal music talents. Other passions include travel, fantasy football, NBA and musical theatre. She is a long time member of several RWA Chapters, including OKRWA, DARA, and The Beau Monde. As an avid reader of romance and patron of the theatre, her main sources of inspiration come mostly from an over-active imagination. She currently resides in Edmond, Oklahoma with her musically talented, attorney husband, Al, and their bossy cat, Carly.

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