Kennedy Shaw hails from a small Central Texas town much like the fictional Wright City, Texas setting in her books. Being the youngest of six children, books soon became her friend. She attended Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas, and then relocated to Arlington and worked in the mortgage industry. After being downsized, she returned to college to finish her degree and to concentrate on writing. She also writes under the pen name Celya Bowers and has had ten romance novels published to date. She's a member of Romance Writers of American, Kiss of Death, Thrillwriters, and the Sizzling Sisterhood Critique group. For more information on her books please visit
www.kennedyshaw.com 
1) How many manuscripts did you write before you sold one?I sold my fifth novel.
2) Which book was your hardest to write and why?The Foursome under my pen name of Celya Bowers. It dealt with Alzheimers and I had to do a lot of research for it. It was scary realizing how fast the disease can affect you if you don't have any idea that you have it. It has the same symptoms as dementia, and several other diseases, so if you don't know your body, you could be past the point of any medical help by the time it's diagnosed.
3) What do you think is the most difficult thing about being an author?Being taken seriously by literary types. Once I tell people I write romance they just assumed that it's a piece of cake and and a trained monkey can do it. I do a lot of research on all my books, and I love what I do, but it's not for everyone.
4) What authors have most inspired your work?Brenda Jackson, Francis Ray, Beverly Jenkins, Nora Roberts, Janet Evanovich
5) What are you working on now?Currently, I'm working on a romantic suspense, set in Wright City, there is a few unexplained deaths and all evidence points to the handsome doctor in town.
Excerpt:
TOUR OF DUTY
PROLOGUE
The Pentagon
Washington, DC
Senator Seth McCaffrey sat at his appointed seat in the Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting. The defense committee was questioning his suggestion about the drug for the soldiers listed in the recently approved military defense bill. He had a good plan, and there was a snag or two in it, but in the end it was for America.
“Mac, have you lost your mind? This drug hasn’t been approved by the military. You can’t start administering it to soldiers without telling them.”
Seth looked at Howard Burns. Coward. “Look, Howard, it can work and it will work. All you have to do is okay the testing. You don’t have to tell anyone that it’s going on. That’s my department. You just keep the president out of our business.”
Howard turned his cold eyes on Seth. “You can’t kill innocent soldiers,” he hissed. “I’m not going to be a party to this. The serum has serious side effects.”
“It has probable side effects,” Seth corrected. That’s why we need to test it. Send a regiment to the war zone and if someone gets sick, kill ‘em.”
“What?”
Seth whispered. “Look, it’s real simple. Pick a unit. Send them to Iraq for a year. We can monitor them and no one will be the wiser. If any of the men exhibit any symptoms, they’ll have a tragic accident. Spoils of war, you know the routine.”
“What about your end? What about your mistress? She’s knows your whole plan. You got sloppy leaving top secret documents at her place and now we’re all paying for that. What are you going to do about her?”
“Kill her.”
“Another tragic accident?”
“Of course,” Seth said confidently. “But this time I’m going to be the one pulling the trigger. It’s going to be my pleasure to end that reporter’s life.”
TOUR OF DUTY
CHAPTER ONE
Six months later
Somewhere on the East Coast
“Carter, will you just shut up and listen?” Mikerra Stone bellowed into her prepaid cell phone.
“Okay, I’m listening,” he said finally. “What’s going on with you? You’re totally off the grid. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for over a week. I heard about your gig at the magazine. I’m sorry.”
“Getting fired is the least of my worries now. I’m in trouble and I need your help. Can you help me or not?”
“If you lose some that attitude in your voice, I’d do anything you ask. Where are you?”
Mikerra tried her best not to lose it on the phone in the parking lot of a gas station, who knows where. She had no idea where she was or how she got there. “I don’t know.” She wiped non-existent tears from her face. “Seth is trying to kill me.”
Carter sighed. “I told you to break it off with him years ago. Not only is he married, but he’s married to one of the richest women in the nation. He can’t afford to divorce her.”
“Carter, I didn’t call for a lecture. I called for help. Are you with me or not?” Mikerra knew the consequences of dating a married white senator from Connecticut, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that monumental mistake.
“I told you about that attitude, Mikerra. Look around you, tell me what you see.”
She glanced around the desolate area. It was dark on the two lane highway. The only light illuminating the road was the full moon and the lights from the motel across the street. “I see the lights from a motel called The Bainesberry Inn. It looks like a rat trap.”
“Right now that’s going to be your best friend. More than likely there not going to be asking for a credit card. I think I know where you are. How did you get to Maryland?
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“I see where you are.”
“How can you track me if I’m using a prepaid cell?” Could Seth track her as easily?
“I have my ways. You’re still using a tower to use the cell, so yes I can find you. The average man isn’t as smart as me,” he said. “I’m about four hours away. I need for you to follow my directions and don’t ask questions okay?”
Like she had an option. “Okay.”
“Good. You have cash?”
“Yes.”
“Check into the motel under Mikerra Stone and sit tight. I’ll call back in one hour. Don’t answer it unless it’s my cell. Got it. I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He ended the call.
Mikerra looked at the small phone and pondered how her life spiraled out of control.
***
“Okay, start from the beginning.” Carter sat on the bed, facing Mikerra. “Why is Seth after you this time? I know in the past when you tried to end it, he’s threatened you, so what’s got you running?”
“My car,” she whispered.
“Your Benz?”
“Yeah. I decided to sell it, since Seth had bought it for me anyway. I wanted to get rid of everything he’d ever bought me. So I sold the car to this guy.”
“So?”
“Three days ago his mother called me asking about the title.”
Carter looked at her with intense brown eyes. “Mikerra, I’m an attorney, this sounds perfectly normal.”
“She explained to me that two days before her son was killed in an explosion in the car that he bought from me. The police told her the bomb was professional level. That’s when I went into hiding. My gut feeling tells me this was Seth or someone acting on his behalf.”
“That’s some strong accusations, Mikerra. Why would he care if you sold the car? It was in your name.” Carter opened his laptop and turned it on.
“I know what I’m talking about, Carter. He knows I know about the bill that was just passed. Project Perfect 192.”
“The bill to increase military enrollment?”
“On the surface, but a deeper part of the bill is the part about research and development. No one reads last page of a three hundred page document. There’s one clause about research, but it’s not good research.”
Carter’s fingers flew across the silver keys on his laptop. “If it’s in the bill, it’s public knowledge.”
“But that’s not the right bill. Seth slipped in duplicate pages taking out the part about the real research. And I’m the only one who knows. I have a copy of the original document.”
“Damn.”
“Tell me about it,” Mikerra said. “Since that call I’ve been afraid to go back to my condo.”
“What about your work?”
“Who do you think got me fired?” She stood and started to pace the room. “Seth made a call and the next week I was unemployed. And to make this even sicker, I was in the room when Seth called my boss and threatened him with a scandal if he didn’t fire me. They gave me a nice severance package, but my name is mud in New York.”
“Your name is mud in the tri-state area. I mean Karen Mills’ name is mud.” He turned the laptop screen so she could look at her own picture. “You have a BOLO on your head.”
“Why is there a ‘be on the look out’ on me?”
Carter turned the laptop back in his direction. “Says in connection with a suspected terrorist.”
Mikerra sat on the bed. She was not going to let this man take her down like this. As if she didn’t matter. If it took her dying breath, Senator Seth McCaffrey was going to pay for what he was doing to her and the men and women of the United States Military.
Her only saving grace was Carter. “Okay, what’s my next move?”
He glanced at her over his laptop. “All roads point to home. I think this is a perfect time for Karen Mills to disappear and Mikerra Stone to re-emerge.”
“Carter, all my possessions are at my condo. What am I supposed to do? Nothing has Mikerra Stone on it. What am I supposed to do for credit?”
He smiled. A plan was already forming in that devious mind of his. No wonder he was senior counsel in the Justice Department. “You let me take care of that. You just take the most scenic route to your hometown. Give me two weeks and I’ll wipe Karen Mills totally off the grid. Now, aren’t you glad you listened to me when I said Mikerra sounded too country?”
“Yes, and I still hate you for that. But at least now I have something to fall back on. Seth never knew my legal name.”
“Well that’s a point in our favor. I’ll plant as many road blocks as I can, but he’ll eventually find you. Even I’m not that good. Maybe by then we’ll come up with a plan to get rid of Seth for once and for all.”
Okay, so she had a little cushion. She wished she knew how long she had before Seth tracked her down. “What about my money?”
“I’ll take care of it. Trust me,” Carter said. “I hide people all the time.”
***
Three months later
Wright City, Texas
Safe.
Mikerra Stone finally felt safe.
And at the tender age of thirty-nine, safe was definitely good for the former journalist. The last few months of her life had been one wild ride, ending with a two-week journey across the US. Carter had been a godsend. He managed to sell her condo, moved her money, without leaving much of a paper trail. Talk about miracles. She owed her life to Carter.
Her front door opened and her brother walked in her newly purchased house like owned the joint. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey yourself,” Mikerra shot back. “You’re late.”
“So. I’m here. What the problem?”
This was her baby brother. Quentin Stone made no apologies for being late. He simply flashed that million-watt smile and all was forgotten. She decided against chastising him about not being on time. It wouldn’t do any good anyway. “Forget it. Let’s go to the furniture store.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
Quinn stared at her. “I know I haven’t said this since you moved back to Wright City, but it’s so good to have you back home.”
“It’s good to be back.” And it was true. The familiar knot in her stomach had begun to loosen. “I never thought I would come back here to live, I guess it was meant to be.”
***
“Did I miss a conversation?” Drake Harrington shoveled the eggs onto his plate, adding bacon and toast to the ensemble.
His mother sat down opposite him, placing a few more strips of bacon on his plate. “No, I just decided to do something special for your father since he’s going to be retiring in a few months. So I decided to get him that chair he’s been eyeing at the furniture store.”
He devoured his breakfast. This was his price to pay for three home cooked meals everyday for the last few weeks. “Look Mom, I don’t mind taking you. I just would like a heads up.”
“Don’t you use that military lingo on me, Drake Alexander Harrington. This is a heads up, as you call it. I think it would be nice for you to help pick out this gift for your father.”
Drake met his mother’s gaze. “Mom, you know you don’t have to cook like this for me everyday.”
Shirley Harrington smiled at her son. “I promised myself when you came home from that place I would show you how much I love you. I still don’t know why you picked the most dangerous occupation in the army. You just had to go jump out of planes, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you just be a paper pusher like your father?”
Drake didn’t want to get into a debate of being an airborne ranger. He loved his job. It gave him a rush. Or at least it used to. “I’m thinking about retiring next year when my hitch is up.”
Shirley gasped. “Baby, really?”
“Yeah, I can retire, my twenty years was up last year. Who knows? Maybe I’ll decide to settle down.” Drake knew that was highly unlikely. The last thing he was looking for was a woman.
“That would be nice,” Shirley said. “But won’t that mean you’ll have to go back to Iraq before they’ll let you out?”
“You know with the military anything is possible.”
“Well, I know I’ve been preaching these last few years about you getting out. But if that’s the case, I’d rather you stay in until this excuse of a war is over.”
He knew how hard that was for his mother to admit that. But he also knew the army was what he needed right now in his life. He patted his mother’s hand. “Don’t worry, Mom.”
“I’ll always worry. I’m your mother. It’s what I do.”
***
An hour later, Drake accompanied his mother to Wright City Furniture Store in downtown Wright City. Shirley led her son to the leather section of the store. It was an oversized red leather chair. It would look great in his father’s office, he thought. “Mom, are you sure about this? This chair is over two grand.”
His mother caressed the chair. “What’s your point?” She looked at him. “Are you trying to tell me the man that gave you life isn’t worth two grand?”
He knew she was teasing. Or at least he hoped she was. “No mom, I’ve just never seen you spend that kind of cash without consulting Dad first. He’s going to blow a gasket.”
“Not unless you tell him.”
“How are you going to explain this to him?”
“I don’t have to explain anything to anyone. Besides, I have my own money.”
Drake raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, Mom. I think it’s a cool chair.”
Shirley smiled at him. “Much better.” She signaled for the salesman. “Why don’t you look around and see if you something else for your father.”
Drake glanced around the large showroom. “I’ll do a walkabout while you wrap things up.”
His mother waved him away as she walked to meet the aging salesman.
Drake slowly ambled his way across the showroom floor to look for his father a present. He stopped cold halfway to the recliner section of the store. The woman lying on the plaid couch with her eyes closed captivated him. The rapid beat of his heart told him it was her. He’d only been dreaming of her for the last two years.
He quietly stepped over to where she was reclining to get a positive ID. Even if he hadn’t recognized her from high school, his heart told him he was correct. It was her. “Surely you’re not Mikerra ‘I’ve got bigger fish to fry than you’ Stone?”
He smiled as her eyes sprang open and she jumped off the sofa, dropping her leather purse in the process. It was her. She had filled out in all the right places. She was as tall and regal as ever, but now she had a healthy look to her. She wasn’t skinny by no means and he liked that. She was what people would describe as thick, with curves galore. Just the way she should be.
She was dressed in blue jean shorts and a snug fitting white blouse that hinted at her full cleavage. Her smooth brown legs seemed to go on forever.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” She stared at him blankly.
Oh that hurt. She didn’t remember him. He sure remembered her. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t remember me.” He extended his hand to her. “I’m Drake Harrington. I was your first.”
***
Mikerra fought to find her voice. He was the last person she’d thought she’d see. True, he was her first, and she’d thought of him often over the years. Drake Harrington was standing directly in front of her. All six-feet-three inches of him. His rich chocolate skin seemed to intensify with each second the silence stretched between them. He was dressed in shorts, and a T-shirt that hugged those bulging biceps and that wall of a chest too well. What was he doing in town?
“Drake, it’s has been a while.” Was that the best she could do? After all, she made her living with words or at least she had until six months ago. A simple explanation should have been a snap.
He crossed his large arms across the big broad expanse of a chest and smiled down at her. He was enjoying this! “I’d think a prize winning journalist could do a lot better than that.”
Mikerra hated being on the receiving end of his sarcasm, but after all she probably deserved that and a whole lot more. “True. Last I heard, you were jumping out of planes.”
“Still am. I just got back from Iraq. I’m home on leave for another week.”
Mikerra took a deep breath. The situation was going from bad to worse. They were in the same place at the same time. What were the odds? “Why don’t we just start over?”
“Over from what? From the last time you told me that you didn’t have time for someone entering the military or when you broke my heart?”
So, I looked out my window today and saw snow. And just like that, my dreams of having a snow-less winter floated away. It was a nice dream--a Toronto winter without snow? Yeah right! But I could still hope....not anymore.
And it was so cheap, easy and temporary, it's got me thinking that I might start having some fun with this. As a dark-haired brunette, I can't see myself going blonde, but I might totally give red a shot. Being pre-menopausal the fiery redhead thing kinda fits right now. Or I might lighten it in the summer. The possibilities are endless! Heck, who knows, one day I might end up looking like this!
found her with her first book, Just the Sexiest Man Alive, which was absolutely fabulous. This second book, however, is one of my all-time favorites and probably my favorite book from this year. When two lawyers-- with an old enmity and an even older attraction-- vie for the same partnership, the result is disastrous and fall-on-the-ground funny. I can't tell you how much I loved this book.
