Kathleen wrote her first book in the first grade. It was a shameless derivative story about Dick and Jane, and was at least seven pages long. Her mother loved it. Her first grade teacher, Sister Anna Mary, loved it. But it would be almost three decades before Kathleen attempted another novel.

In the meantime, though, she never stopped writing. She wrote some awful poetry in high school, working through the typical hormonal overreaction to having her heart broken by "the wrong boy."

After college, she took a newspaper job, and she eventually worked her way up to the position of television critic before throwing it all over to follow her heart, and her husband, a fellow journalist, to make a home in Miami.

When her first child was born, and her life began to consist of cleaning up after small creatures who didn’t understand indoor plumbing, she decided she had to go back to writing. But she couldn’t bear to leave her amazing little girl, so she turned once again to novels. And because she was a born sentimentalist, and a great believer in romance, she decided to try to write for Harlequin.

Today, Kathleen still lives in Florida, still is married to the same extraordinary man, and has two children she adores. Her daughter is a university senior, a musical, magical beauty who has become her best friend. Her son is a witty, wonderful member of the tennis team and a handsome devil whose smile breaks hearts at school, warms hearts at home.

Kathleen is a true Cancer, valuing home and friends above everything. She still counts as her most important people her sister, her best friend from childhood, her special buddy from high school, and the friends she has made through the years, among other writers.

She has a cockatiel named Lizzie, who terrorizes the other small birds in her office/aviary. She loves flowers, colored cut glass, Mozart ,and Elvis. She is addicted to The X-Files, Dorothy Dunnett novels, and sugarfree Popsicles.

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