FLAMINGO CAFE
by
Jackie Kang
Women's Fiction
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Publication Date: October 16, 2024
Page count: 365 pages
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Publication Date: October 16, 2024
Page count: 365 pages
SCROLL DOWN FOR GIVEAWAY!
SYNOPSIS:
A storm is brewing off the coast of Florida, but chaos has already made landfall for four women of Palm Beach society.
Abigail, a self-appointed Cuban princess and queen of the WAGs, suddenly finds herself penniless and on the streets. Claudia, a Greek entrepreneur and CEO of a prestigious international clothing line, is entering her golden years only to realize secrets can weigh you down. Cassy, a barista and owner of the Flamingo Cafe, is doing her best to recover from a tragic past. Meanwhile her best friend, Bri, also harbors a secret: a romantic tet-a-tet with Cassy's brother Nick.
Each woman has played her part in a society obsessed with appearances and secrecy for years. So, when Hurricane Odette blows through town, exposing those secrets, it's no surprise their lives collide like a clap of thunder. Only one thing is certain: if they don't work together, Mother Nature will teach them the hardest lessons of their lives.
CLICK TO PURCHASE!
| Amazon | Apple Books | BAM! | Barnes & Noble |
| Bookshop.org | Google Play | Kobo | Walmart |
ENJOY AN EXCERPT:
“Gosh darn it! This is exactly why I don't play dress up.” I rummage around, tented inside the caftan, with no apparent way out. Silently, I curse the buttons I must have forgotten to undo before slipping the silky fabric over my head.
“Auntie?” I call out, hoping she is still within earshot. “Hello?”
I stop pulling at the delicate fabric for a second, eager for a response. But when I'm met with nothing but silence, I go back to twisting the vintage garment around my head. In my panic, a light layer of perspiration has appeared on my skin, causing the caftan to stick to me, only working to increase my desperation. I keep working to untangle myself from the jumble, all the while being cautious about ripping a seam or tearing the precious material.
The more I work to untangle myself, the more twisted I become, to the point that I've now managed to add my arms to the mess of fabric above my head.
I'm about to call out for help again when footsteps sound on the bathroom floor, and a wave of relief washes through me. “Auntie? I'm having a little difficulty. Can you come and help me?”
The footsteps grow closer, and I start blindly walking toward them, my arms still suspended above my head in a mass of silk fabric.
It's not until I am at the entrance to the dressing room that I realize the sound of the shoe on the bathroom tile isn't the click-clack of Aunt Claudia's kitten heel but rather a firm and robust stride.
I shake myself out of my momentary stupor and back away from the entrance, frantically increasing my efforts to untangle myself from the caftan while at the same time bumping into the chaise lounge with my bare leg.
I'm on the verge of letting out a string of very un-lady-like cuss words when the footsteps stop, and I know whoever is here has crossed the barrier from the marble floor to the lush carpet of the walk-in closet.
I hold my breath and stand completely still, realizing I'm half-naked from the waist down except for my white briefs. I pray that the island housing Claudia's jewels blocks the lower half of my body from view.
“Um? Nick? Uncle B?” My voice betrays me by cracking on the second syllable. I clear my throat.
There's a low chuckle, and I know right away whoever is in the dressing room is not Nick or Uncle B. Panic shoots through me, and for the briefest of moments, I'm transported back to the break-in at the café.
The air in my lungs is stuck, so I clear my throat again, finally choking out, “um, just a minute.”
I give one last-ditch effort to struggle into, or out of, the mass of fabric suffocating me, causing a mad sweat to spread across my lower back. Despite the temperature and humidity-controlled closet, I'm dying.
Even though I can't see him, and he has yet to say a word, I know he's made his way across the space separating us. I stand perfectly still until his breath is directly behind me. I try not to flinch when I feel his fingers, gentle at first and then more urgent, searching for the buttons.
“Now, hold on a second.” He finally finds the buttons and unlatches them. Then, mercifully, he opens a hole, so the caftan floats down over my head, encircling my body in a soft billow of air.
“Auntie?” I call out, hoping she is still within earshot. “Hello?”
I stop pulling at the delicate fabric for a second, eager for a response. But when I'm met with nothing but silence, I go back to twisting the vintage garment around my head. In my panic, a light layer of perspiration has appeared on my skin, causing the caftan to stick to me, only working to increase my desperation. I keep working to untangle myself from the jumble, all the while being cautious about ripping a seam or tearing the precious material.
The more I work to untangle myself, the more twisted I become, to the point that I've now managed to add my arms to the mess of fabric above my head.
I'm about to call out for help again when footsteps sound on the bathroom floor, and a wave of relief washes through me. “Auntie? I'm having a little difficulty. Can you come and help me?”
The footsteps grow closer, and I start blindly walking toward them, my arms still suspended above my head in a mass of silk fabric.
It's not until I am at the entrance to the dressing room that I realize the sound of the shoe on the bathroom tile isn't the click-clack of Aunt Claudia's kitten heel but rather a firm and robust stride.
I shake myself out of my momentary stupor and back away from the entrance, frantically increasing my efforts to untangle myself from the caftan while at the same time bumping into the chaise lounge with my bare leg.
I'm on the verge of letting out a string of very un-lady-like cuss words when the footsteps stop, and I know whoever is here has crossed the barrier from the marble floor to the lush carpet of the walk-in closet.
I hold my breath and stand completely still, realizing I'm half-naked from the waist down except for my white briefs. I pray that the island housing Claudia's jewels blocks the lower half of my body from view.
“Um? Nick? Uncle B?” My voice betrays me by cracking on the second syllable. I clear my throat.
There's a low chuckle, and I know right away whoever is in the dressing room is not Nick or Uncle B. Panic shoots through me, and for the briefest of moments, I'm transported back to the break-in at the café.
The air in my lungs is stuck, so I clear my throat again, finally choking out, “um, just a minute.”
I give one last-ditch effort to struggle into, or out of, the mass of fabric suffocating me, causing a mad sweat to spread across my lower back. Despite the temperature and humidity-controlled closet, I'm dying.
Even though I can't see him, and he has yet to say a word, I know he's made his way across the space separating us. I stand perfectly still until his breath is directly behind me. I try not to flinch when I feel his fingers, gentle at first and then more urgent, searching for the buttons.
“Now, hold on a second.” He finally finds the buttons and unlatches them. Then, mercifully, he opens a hole, so the caftan floats down over my head, encircling my body in a soft billow of air.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
When not spending her time creating make-believe people and places, Jackie Kang lives in Kirkland, WA with her very real family of 1 husband, 2 dogs, and 3 children. In her past life, Jackie has held jobs as a personal trainer, a spa manager, a dental assistant, and an office manager, but her true love is writing and sharing a well-crafted story. Jackie is a member of the Women's Fiction Writers Association.
GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY!
The author will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.
Thank you for featuring this book and excerpt today.
ReplyDeleteThank you for hosting Flamingo Cafe! I'm so happy to be here and answer any questions you may have!
ReplyDeleteI really like the cover and the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThis should be a fantastic novel. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete