Amazon
It’s ’86, the era of Pop Rocks, Jelly shoes, and big hair bands. Rachael O'Brien's freshman plan seems simple: Attend a southern college away from her hometown of Canton, Ohio, earn a degree, party, and meet cute guys—hopefully acing the latter two.
But being threatened by a jealous She-Devil, avoiding the advances of a thirty-something redneck, and discovering an art fraud scheme mess with her “to do” list. On top of her troubles at school, Rachael finds herself forging a new relationship with her emotionally shaken father after Mom abandons the family to pursue a psychic calling.
Bad decision-making, law-bending behavior, and surprise romances make freshman year challenging in Paisley Ray’s DEEP FRIED AND PICKLED quick-witted, south-of-the-Mason-Dixon romp.
Excerpt:
Behind my back, Katie Lee asked, “What are you doing in my closet?”
Like a hound flushing out a quail, I dug deep to contain my nervous energy. I held my stance and pointed. “Is that Nash’s?”
She didn’t even look at me when she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It wasn’t my business, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was
furious that she hid something for him in our room. For all I knew, he
was a serial killer and body parts were fermenting in our closet. Before
she could
slam the door, I pulled on the suitcase, tumbling the plastic zip bags
that rested on top into a heap.
She grabbed the side handle and snapped at me, “What are you doing?”
“I’m opening it.”
She hung on. “It’s not yours to open.”
In a tug of war, I yanked then let go. Katie Lee toppled to the floor and clunked her head on a desk leg.
Macy appeared in the doorway. Not sure how much she’d
seen, I didn’t care. My roommate wasn’t bleeding, and even if she were, I
wouldn’t have noticed. I was obsessed with the case that lay
equidistant between
us.
Dropping to my knees, I applied pressure to the lock until it clicked.
Katie Lee sat on the floor and shot me a look of pissed-off defeat.
Macy didn’t interfere or pick sides, but closed in behind my back.
Turning the heavy case to face me, I slid the zipper around the track and opened the flap.
Macy pitched a shrill whistle.
Bridget joined the gawking audience and yelled, “Holy shit.”
Seeing all the twenties neatly stacked and bound by rubber bands, I told Katie Lee, “This is a problem.”
No comments:
Post a Comment