Friday Night Fever by Andrene Low
Publisher: Squabbling Sparrows Press
Publication Date: August 3, 2017
Genre(s): Chick Lit, Humor, Noir, Satire
Series: Sexy Seventies
Book Number in Series: 1
Other Books in Series: Brush With Fame, Strapped For Cash
Purchase: 24symbols, !ndigo, Angus & Robertson Bookworld, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kindle, Kobo, Scribd
Dial your clocks back to 1977, before email, mobile phones, and social media, when a woman could go full ‘Friday Night Fever’ and behave as badly as the boys, without risking viral fame.
Samantha’s life is perfect, until she finds out her boss wants to sleep with her and her boyfriend’s sleeping with someone else. It’s not something she’s going to take lying down, even if her deliciously wicked revenge has her fleeing New Zealand for Australia. Not that Melbourne proves to be a safe haven either.
Embracing the single life with behaviour her mum wouldn’t approve of, Sam runs into a macho Italian with a penchant for garlic, an appendage named after a popular luncheon meat and a nasty habit of stalking. Thank goodness friends Jennie and Brenda are there to help her teach him what happens to guys who treat women badly. After they’ve finished with him, all that ‘salami’ of his is good for is slapping between a couple of slices of white bread.
And, as if this wasn’t enough, throw in a new career as a designer of clothes for pampered pooches and being framed for a crime she didn’t commit; and Sam’s got her hands full; almost too full to decide if Chris, a local Melbourne guy, might just be her ‘Mr Right’. Trouble is, if she doesn’t decide soon, someone else might just make the decision for her.
Friday Night Fever is a riotous mix of comedy, romance, sex and violence. Think mash up between ‘Sex in the City’ and ‘That 70s Show’ and you’re halfway there.
Sam looks up from pouring soap powder into what she hopes is the correct drawer of her washing machine. Being brought up with top loaders she’s still nervous the laundromat’s front loaders will leak on her. “Hell, this is one posh neighbourhood,” says Jennie.
“What do you mean?”
“Take a look at that.” Sam points at the huge, plate-glass window at the front of the laun-dromat.
“The dog’s blue.”
“It’s the same colour as her hair.”
Jennie’s eyebrows pop up another notch. “Their jackets match, too.”
“The floral looks better on the dog.”
“She’s coming in here,” says Jennie. “You’d think if you could afford a Merc and a blue dog you could spring for a washing machine.”
Beneath the blue hair, the woman is five foot nothing, twig thin and has a general air of command.
Her eyes are a pale blue more commonly seen on Angora goats, while her lips are the colour of packet orange cordial. Sam suspects she’s been wearing the same shade of lipstick for the past sixty years and considers it her signature colour. Unfortunately, with everything else about her being faded with age, it’s as though her lips arrive before she does.
Looking at the immaculate pastel floral Jackie O suit, Sam is conscious of the cut-off jeans, singlet and flip flops that make up her own laundromat ensemble.
They sit bemused as the owner of the Mercedes proceeds to put on a load of washing, all of which seems to belong to the dog while chatting away to the mutt as though it’s a two-way conversation. She then leaves to take her “darling Sapphire for a little walkie”. The dog doesn’t respond, not once.
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About the Author
Andrene’s love of writing was instilled in her by her mother, although if her mum was still alive, she’d be smacking Andrene across the back of the head given the direction her writing has taken. Irreverent, cutting and reflecting her background as a stand-up comic, it’s edgy with humour that’s very dark in places.
Her Sexy Seventies Series explores the wild ride the seventies was for anyone lucky enough to be young and single during this craziest of decades. Imagine a mash up between Sex in the City and That Seventies Show and you’re half way there. She’s currently working on Dietvale, a comic horror set on a fat farm in gorgeous New Zealand, where she lives with Jasmine, a neurotic, geriatric cat who should be bald given how much fur she sheds.
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