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Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.
Today, we're joining ranks with Sourcebooks for a stop along their current promotion featuring the work of author Carolyn Brown! If you've sampled her works before, you know you're in for a treat...if not, trust me...you are! Ready or not, let's get this bookish show on the road with today's title in the spotlight...
The Sisters Cafe
by
Carolyn Brown
Sourcebooks
About the book...
Cathy Andrew’s biological clock has passed the ticking stage and is dangerously close to “blown plumb up.” Cathy wants it all: the husband, the baby, and a little house right there in Cadillac, Texas. She’s taken step one and gotten engaged to a reliable man, but she’s beginning to question their relationship. Does he really love her, or is she just arm candy for his political career? Why is her future mother-in-law getting increasingly hostile? Worse, why does he stand up for his mother when she says those awful things, instead of protecting her?
Cathy is full of self-doubt. Both of her options—going through with the wedding or breaking off her engagement—are beginning to look like a nightmare either way. She knows her friends will back her up, but she’s the one who has to make a decision that’s going to tear her apart.
(Previously published as The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeno Society Jubilee and What Happens in Texas.)
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~~~ EXCERPT ~~~
If Prissy Parnell hadn’t married Buster Jones and left Cadillac, Texas, for Pasadena, California, Marty wouldn’t have gotten the speeding ticket. It was all Prissy’s damn fault that Marty was in such a hurry to get to the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society monthly meeting that night, so Prissy ought to have to shell out the almost two hundred dollars for that ticket.
They were already passing around the crystal bowl to take up the voting ballots when Marty slung open the door to Violet Prescott’s sunroom and yelled, “Don’t count ’em without my vote.”
Twenty faces turned to look at her and not a one of them, not even her twin sister, Cathy, was smiling. Hell’s bells, who had done pissed on their cucumber sandwiches before she got there, anyway? A person didn’t drop dead from lack of punctuality, did they?
One wall of the sunroom was glass and looked out over lush green lawns and flower gardens. The other three were covered with shadow boxes housing the blue ribbons that the members had won at the Texas State Fair for their jalapeño pepper entries. More than forty shadow boxes all reminding the members of their history and their responsibility for the upcoming year. Bless Cathy’s heart for doing her part. She had a little garden of jalapeños on the east side of the lawn and nurtured them like children. The newest shadow box held ribbons that she’d earned for the club with her pepper jelly and picante. It was the soil, or maybe she told them bedtime stories, but she, like her mamma and grandma, grew the hottest jalapeños in the state.
“It appears that Martha has decided to grace us with her pres-ence once again when it is time to vote for someone to take our dear Prissy’s place in the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society. We really should amend our charter to state that a member has to attend more than one meeting every two years. You could appreciate the fact that we did amend it once to include you in the membership with your sister, who, by the way, has a spotless attendance record,” Violet said.
Violet, the queen of the club, as most of the members called it, was up near eighty years old, built like SpongeBob SquarePants, and had stovepipe jet- black hair right out of the bottle. Few people had the balls or the nerve to cross her, and those who did were put on her shit list right under Martha, aka Marty, Andrews’ name, which was always on the top.
Back in the beginning of the club days, before Marty was even born, the mayor’s wife held the top position on the shit list. When they’d formed the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society, Loretta Massey and Violet almost went to war over the name of the new club. Loretta insisted that it be called a society, and Violet wanted it to be called a club. Belonging to a club just sounded so much fancier than saying that one belonged to a society. Loretta won when the vote came in, but Violet called it a club anyway and that’s what stuck. Rumor had it that Violet was instrumental in getting the mayor ousted just so they’d have to leave Grayson County and Loretta would have to quit the club.
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Excerpted from The Sisters Café by Carolyn Brown. © 2019 by Carolyn Brown. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.
About the author...
Carolyn Brown is a New York Times, USA Today, Publisher’s Weekly, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author and a RITA finalist with more than ninety published books. Her genres include romance, history, cowboys and country music, and contemporary mass-market paperbacks. She and her husband live in the small town of Davis, Oklahoma, where everyone knows everyone else, knows what they are doing and when . . . and reads the local newspaper every Wednesday to see who got caught. They have three grown children and enough grandchildren to keep them young.
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Special thanks to Kirsten at Sourcebooks for the chance to bring this promotion to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, or the publisher, feel free to click through the links provided above. This is available now, so stop by your local bookstore or click on over to your favorite online retailer to order your copy today!
Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!
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