What Happens in Texas!
On Sale Tomorrow!
It's got a new cover and a new title but the characters are the same.
A little excerpt from the beginning of the book...
If Prissy Parnell hadn’t married Buster Jones and left
for Cadillac, Texas ,
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 Jalapeno Society monthly
meeting that night, so Prissy ought to have to shell out the almost two hundred
dollars for that ticket. Pasadena, California
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. Hells 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 jalapeno 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 jalapenos 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 momma and grandma, grew the hottest jalapenos in the state.
“It appears that Martha has decided to grace us with her presence once again when it is time to vote for someone to take our dear Prissy’s place in the Blue-Ribbon Jalapeno Society. We really should amend our charter to state that a member has to attend more meetings than one every two years. It looks like 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 Sponge Bob Square Pants and had stove pipe jet black hair right out of the bottle. Few people had the balls or the nerve to cross her and those that 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 Jalapeno Society, Loretta Massey and Violet almost went to war over the name of the brand new club. Loretta insisted that it be called a society and Violet wanted to be called a club. Belonging to Club just sounded so much fancier than saying that one belonged to Society. Loretta won when the vote came in but Violet called it 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 Club.
Marty hated it when people called her Martha. It sounded like an old woman’s name. What was her mother thinking anyway when she looked down at two little identical twin baby daughters and named them after her mother and aunt: Martha and Catherine? Thank God, she’d at least shortened their names to Marty and Cathy.
Marty shrugged and Violet snorted. Granted it was a lady-like snort but it still went right along with her round face and a three layered neck. Hell, if they wanted to write forty amendments to the charter, Marty would still do only the bare necessities to keep her in voting standing. She hadn’t even wanted to be in the damned club and had only done it because if she didn’t, then Cathy couldn’t.