Hello and welcome to another wildly wicked Friday at the Author Roast and Toast. We can’t promise that you’ll win the lottery tonight. We can’t promise that Mr. Perfect will pop out of a magic genie bottle to fulfill your every fantasy. We can’t even promise that if you click your heels together three times, you’ll be back in Kansas. But what we can promise is side-splitting laughter from three zany hostesses, a sexy cabana boy who will wait on you hand and foot with a wink and a smile, and crazy group participation from our roastee of the day along with all participating visitors, both regulars and newbees, who dare to take a walk on the wild side with us.
Today’s celebration is at the beach, and we are tickled pink to welcome back one of our favorite roastees, Bobbye Terry, to roast her upcoming release Buried in Briny Bay
The first of four Briny Bay novellas, a fun, comedic murder mystery with two sassy, mouthy sisters from Briny Bay, North Carolina, a fictional town on Pamlico Sound, to be released for your pleasure March 14th.* Stop Press - Bobbye's Publisher couldn't hold back any longer! BURIED AT BRINY BAY is available NOW!
So come on down, grab your beach bag, favorite bikini and plenty of sun screen because the sun is hotter than Bobbye’s book!
Singing Cajun music as he grills, Oliver looks pretty hot himself in his powder blue Speedo swimming trunks. The insatiable smell of the roasted pig, burgers, hot dogs, cheese fries and clams, sizzling in butter and garlic in
a stone hearth in the
sand, waft over the beach as the hostesses set things up for the weekend bash.
Potato chips, tortilla chips and dip, along with baskets of soft
pretzels sit invitingly on umbrella tables, while trays of chilled pineapple, water melon, cantaloupe, honey dew and succulent strawberries and sweet grapes scream to be sampled on tables surrounding lounge chairs.
Chocolate chips and fudge brownies sit pretty, a chocolate celebration cake with a sugar copy of Bobbye's cover, and a frozen ice cream cake stays cool, along with coolers of beer and soda.
Lyn chokes on the coke she’s slugging back. “Sharon, sweetie, those waves parted a long time ago. In other words, honey, that ship has sailed.”
“Yeah,” Mary chortles, laughing so hard her hooters shake loose and tumble into the ocean blue, leaving her canary yellow bikini top sagging.
In her haste to fetch them and trying to stifle her cackling, Lyn dashes after them in a race that would do a marathon runner proud, that is, until she stumbles over her barges of feet and falls
head first in the ocean just as a tide rolls in, sweeping her and her spanking new purple bikini away.
“Whatcha think, sister,” Mary slaps Sharon on the fannie so hard she takes a nose dive head first into the ocean blue, Mary a splash behind her, her voice carrying in the salt scented air. “We’re gonna go fetch my hooters, all for one and one for all! Swim, sister, swim!”
An hour later, the hostesses three, resembling drowned sea hags, sit on lounge chairs, belting back icy cans of beer. Oliver, man of the hour, pumps his biceps with a grin. Just as things got ugly, he paddled out to sea in an outrigger canoe to rescue the damsels as well as tackle a stubborn dolphin for Mary’s hooter. The other rolled in on a wave.
In the distance, a harbor bell rings, echoing over the squawking of seagulls and birds as a boat drifts to shore. Waving and blowing kisses to the guests, BOBBYE sparkles and shines in the late morning sun. Looking drop dead gorgeous in a striking tangerine bikini, diamond earrings, necklace and ankle bracelet, designer shades and her gauzy white beach cover billowing in the breeze, she steps onto the sand, Oliver kisses her and hands her a cold one, jerking his head to the tipsy hostesses.
“Y’all know what they say ‘bout, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
BURIED IN BRINY BAY
BURIED IN BRINY BAY
Roxie Turner finds herself up to her neck in trouble when her lifelong nemesis, Georgia Collins, is discovered buried in the town’s landfill. To make matters worse, with her characteristic Southern sass, Roxie has been saying she’d kill Georgia for more than twenty years. In fact, she listed the ways to do the woman in, constantly reminding prominent citizens of her intent. It was all a joke, or so she thought. But the joke turns on her as, suddenly, other dead bodies begin to pile up, all murdered with a technique from Roxie’s list.
Enlisting the assistance of handsome hunk, Greg Norris, Roxie’s sister, Trixie Frye, comes to her aid, bent on uncovering the killer and the truth. Can they find out both before Roxie goes to the big house?
Trixie groaned as she flopped on her living room sofa. “I’d never have guessed our town’s detectives could be so downright unpleasant.”
“Make that shitty.” Roxie sat in a side chair and crossed her arms. “I can’t believe our own brother took us in. And you were just about as bad. Thanks for getting us dragged in for two hours.”
“Look.” Trixie waved her finger in the air. “I was dragged in with you. It’s no fun being related to a cold-blooded killer.”
“I am not a killer.” Roxie’s voice quivered on the last word.
“Sorry.” Trixie kicked off her shoes. “I told you the detectives surprised me with how good they are—at the end, they even had me convinced.”
Roxie sagged against the chair back. “Sure I’ve thought of ways to kill Georgia for nigh on twenty years, but I could have done a lot better than dumping her in the landfill. Even throwing her in the Pamlico Sound like I suggested once. That would have been better. There’ve been a lot of bodies they’ve never found out there. It’s just a matter of watching the tide and the moon phase. Then there’s that area, you know the one off the point with all the sharp jutting rocks and the deep drop-off…”
“Roxie, too much information. Remember, Georgia’s dead with a capital ‘D.’” Trixie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Who else would the police think did it? You had cause, that’s for sure, and you’ve even told the mayor how you planned to kill her. Everyone thought you were joshing, but now that someone’s actually murdered her, well, thinking you did it is a natural conclusion.”
“So how do we convince them otherwise, Trix? I don’t look good in yellow or stripes.”
Bobbye Terry. BE MINE, VALENTINE, 1/28/2011, Turquoise Morning Press (TMP)
In March: LAST WISHES, Black Opal Books (BOB); BURIED IN BRINY BAY (TMP)
w/a Terry Campbell:CRAIGS' LEGACY, 2/11/2011 (BOB); Backlist on Kindle
w/a Daryn Cross, IT'S MAGIC, Crescent Moon Press
All Romance EBooks
Barnes and Noble
QUESTION FOR PRIZE
Where oh where was Mary's other hooter?
To win a copy of Terry's book, all you have to do is just leave a comment with your answer to the above question, and your e-mail address.
Contest ends tomorrow and everyone who comments is elligible.
The photo of The Inn on Pamlico Sound is courtesy of TripAdvisor