This week’s spotlight is on author pal Shaunna Rodriguez. Shaunna recently found me on facebook and it has been so much fun getting to know her. I’m massively impressed with her work ethic and I’m sure she is hiding a few clones behind the scenes to be that productive.
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| Shuanna Rodriguez and her husband Eric |
Seriously, who writes their first book at age six? Shaunna. Who writes her first novel and ten and then is a published author at twenty-five? Shaunna! Who is a best-selling author at 30? Yeah, you guessed it. And the kicker … she has 11 books published and almost a 100 waiting to be published. Say what? My head is nearly exploding at the thought. I've spent nine years writing my ONE book!
Giveaways
To help launch her latest book, Perfectly Flawed, Shaunna has kindly offered to do an exciting giveaway.
She is offering 2 signed paperbacks of Perfectly Flawed, and 2 ebooks -- 1 Dark Water and 1 Keep Her Safe. AND bundled with one of the signed paperbacks, a $10 Amazon card for the best answer on my blog or my facebook post and the swag bag, pen and journal.
There are 2 ways to enter:
1. Share and comment on this blog. Tell me the biggest way you are perfectly flawed. Extra credit if you make me laugh.
2. Or comment on my facebook post of this blog (here) with the biggest way you are Perfectly Flawed and tag 3 or more people.
More about Shaunna
Just to prove how amazing Shaunna is here are a few of the books she is working on now (See what I mean? Clones, it’s gotta be…or maybe elves?):
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| One Night Only (Romantic Comedy) |
Wings (Christian Comedy)
ICE (Romantic Drama
On Thin Ice (Romantic Drama)
Mine (Thriller)
Shaunna also has eleven books already out including:
Vampires
She is slowly releasing her 25 book vampire series. The first book, "Forbidden" and “Forbidden Escape” is available now on amazon. http://ow.ly/3xJBII
Crime Mystery
Shaunna’s Links:
You can find Shaunna on twitter @unveiledbooks and @Read_N_Pajamas
You can call or text 408-607-1147 for any paperback orders to her anytime and she'll even autograph it for you!
Perfectly Flawed Sample
So let’s give you a taste of your potential prize. Here is a teaser:
You know that feeling of sheer euphoria you get from being organized? Yeah, me neither. But I can imagine it'd be as amazing as the feeling one gets that has been blessed with looks, personality, and money. This is a combo I have not been privy to in all my twenty-seven years. In fact, If you were going to order me off the menu in a fast food restaurant you'd see a lot of additional upgrade charges on your receipt.
Oh dear, as you'll soon discover I'm a bit overzealous and a tiny bit disorganized as you see here. I've already gotten ahead of myself in my natural disorganized fashion and have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Grace Galloway. Clearly my mother had high hopes for me when she named me. Unfortunately, my name does not do me justice at all as I lack grace among other things. I'm what you'd call "Perfectly Flawed."
Some things you should know about me. I've managed to get by on my looks alone as the good Lord had mercy on me when he gave me an amazing body to make up for my lack of common sense, judgment and equilibrium. By this I have Reese Witherspoon's Legally Blonde sense of style, body type, features and cluelessness meets Assassins Julianne Moore's auburn hair, cat-like, curious, green eyes, tenacity and zeal for trouble.
First of all, I cannot walk and chew bubble gum at the same time. Forget me trying to do that while talking on the phone and trying to find my car in a large parking lot, and don't even think about asking me to unlock it at this point because I likely still haven't found it and by this time have lost the keys I just had in my hand.
I tend to lose my phone even though I'm right in the middle of a conversation on it and simultaneously I will have lost my car keys even though I'm holding them in my hands right then. It's not uncommon for me to tell whoever I'm talking to that I have to go because I've lost my phone. I tend to end it on an upbeat note reassuring them that I'll call them right back as soon as I find it only to discover when I'm preparing to hang up it's been pressed against my ear the whole time.
Secondly, I have an atrocious record with relationships both for friendships and dating as this goes without saying that it's connected to my lack of common sense and bad judgement. On more than one occasion my mother has accused me of having a magnet attached to me that attracts psychos, deadbeats and con artists and don't even get me started on the men I've dated. I'm drawn to danger and stupidity. I clearly love liars, thieves, men who forget they are married and those who lose their wallets like I lose my cell phone; because somehow I always end up paying in the end in more ways than one.
A year ago I met Cameron Spencer, a tall, dark and handsome liar whose day job was working as a hedge fund manager as well as a stock broker on Wall Street who I'd later discover enjoyed repelling down walls and studying art which ironically enough, worked well together for him considering he was actually a notorious Cat Burglar and Art Thief that was wanted in Italy, France & Spain and now the US.
Of course, the FBI could have informed me of this before he convinced me to invest ten thousand dollars of my own money which I got from selling my car for this get rich scheme. Not only did he convince me to invest ten thousand dollars of my money but fifteen thousand of my mother's. Nonetheless, he stole both our money and now I'm on a payment plan with her, likely for the rest of my life and will never see another Christmas gift ever.
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If you've ever seen the movie You've Got Mail with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks; you may begin to feel a similar connection in what I’m about to tell you, or at least I did.
With everything I've been through, especially where men are concerned, it was definitely a first for me when one particular man in question told me himself that he wasn't who he was pretending to be. This as opposed to me hearing it from the FBI, an angry wife or other bomb shell, bubble breaker and all around dream smasher.
Six months ago I started dating again because clearly I hadn't learned my lesson from the disastrous, whimsical, one week affair that ended abruptly, with the notorious cat burglar and art thief, Cameron Spencer.
My new beau and next mistake was different. He was nothing like my lying, tall, dark and handsome day trader and hedge fund manager with his tailored Christian Lacroix suits, Ralph Lauren underwear and Prada shoes. No, no Quinton Tolliver, AKA Conan, was John Travotla's Swordfish meets Sylvester Stallone's Rambo. He doesn't even own a suit. Instead, he owns The Hog, which if you haven't already guessed is a Biker Bar.
He's also the leader or captain rather of the Dibble biker gang. I’m toying with the notion that whilst he was at the clothing print shop which I’d assume is the closest he’s ever come to tailored suits, he must have been on the phone at the exact moment the monogramer asked "What’s the name you want on these snazzy vests?" That, by the way, are decorated with so many patches it’d make a girl scout jealous. And that's when I think Conan must have said dabble. As in let’s dabble in some money laundering and drug running say about six tonight. Is that good for you? But instead the monogramer heard Dibble and proceeded to create 50 Dibble Gang vests to which Conan clearly reasoned was somehow more memorable and macho then Renegades or Viper Venom, but I’m just guessing.
Oh and I didn’t tell you the best part. As a happy coincidence, his biker gang "family" frequents the bar so we're ALWAYS together and as a one month anniversary present, Conan and the entire Dibble Gang, gave me my very own vest. Of course, it's nothing like the one of a kind, soft, blue leather Marc Jacobs bag Cameron gave me a week after we were together. After the FBI got involved Marc wanted his bag back. I tried to be understanding that it was a one of a kind and prototype which Cameron had stolen at an event he had attended in Paris, a month before we met, but it still hurt to let go of something so beautiful and rare.
But now I have my very own leather gang vest. After all leather is leather right whether it's Marc Jacobs blue or Skippy's Jiffy Print black? I think I'll watch Gilmore Girls later and Bedazzle it. Maybe some rhinestones are just what this thing needs and perhaps the dry cleaners just to tamp the combination of beer, cigarettes, ode of biker man and gun powder. I think I noticed a glob of chili on the nape of it which really concerns me above all the other things I mentioned that are in it or on it.
Three months ago I was puttering around the one bedroom loft that Conan and I share located conveniently right above his bar, where I also moonlight as a waitress. Don't judge me okay.
After I lost all my money to Cameron who has since fled the country, I had no choice. Plus my mom has me on a payment plan and she's hell bent on me paying her "every last cent back." It's probably a good thing because me and the Dibble boys would be coming for him if he hadn't already left town. With them on their Roaring Harleys they spend every waking second they aren't falling over drunk polishing, and me on my cute pink moped. I have a helmet that matches too!
So here I was agonizing over whether to send my mom a hundred dollars or buy these amazing boots with a zipper on the side, when I got an email alert. Normally I'd have ignored it but curiosity and intrigue got the better of me. So I opened it having no idea when I did, that I would be opening Pandora’s Box. Immediately I was caught in a whirlwind, spontaneous, purely platonic relationship with a man named Ryan Lewis. He seemed normal enough and that's when everything began to change. After that I'd soon come face to face with Ryan Lewis and learn that he wasn't who he said he was after all.
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