by K. A. Ware
We rode in silence as I sped through town, Addie clearly giving me the silent treatment over being forced to ride in a van with giant tits painted on the sides. I’d thought about painting over the atrocity, but it’d grown on me, and I got a kick out of making Addie ride in it.
“I thought we were going out for a drink?” Addie questioned as I merged onto the highway.
“We are. But I want a Hurricane.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Sav, I’m exhausted. I don’t have the energy to play your games right now. What are we doing?”
“We, my dear sister, are going to Mardi Gras.”
“We’re WHAT?” Addie screamed.
I threw my head back and cackled, my laughter ringing out into the evening air. Whether she liked it or not, my sister was on this adventure with me, and what a ride it would be.
Voodoo and Vodka
Project Stickectomy
Savannah
10 miles outside of New Orleans, LA
Addie glared at me through the windshield as she made her way back to the van. If looks could kill, I would’ve been dead and cold before we’d made it out of Terrebonne Parish.
She let out a little growl as she climbed in and slammed the old door with more force than necessary. “I can’t believe you made me change, and in a Waffle House!”
“I told you to change in the back, but you threw a fit. Not my fault the only place off the highway was a Waffle House. What was it you said? You were afraid you’d catch scabies? What did you find in there?”
“Between the fifty year old carpet and the pig, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten a staph infection riding around in this abomination. I don’t understand why you insisted I change in the first place,” Addie huffed, ignoring my question.
“Because I’m sick of the convent-chic look, it screams uptight man-hater and that won’t do. Besides, it’s well past time for your stickectomy.”
She flicked her sharp eyes to me. “My what?”
I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “Stickectomy, the removal of that giant stick you’ve got shoved up your ass.”
“Classy, Sav,” Addie mocked as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway.
“You’ve been out from under Shit Stain’s thumb for almost two months and all you’ve done with your new found freedom is work and fight with Zep.”
“It’s not my fault that he’s insufferable,” she mumbled, turning to look out the window.
She wanted to say something else. I could feel it in my bones, but she didn’t want to give me any ammunition.
I smirked to myself. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Either way, this trip is going to be Zep free, and maybe you’ll even get your groove back.”
My sister had been artfully dodging my probing questions about her past with the bearded Adonis since we’d returned from Shreveport. She’d put up a valiant effort, I’d give her that, but I had a plan. If she wasn’t going to willingly spill the beans, I was going to use the only truth serum I knew was fool proof…
Vodka.
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Acknowledgments
Front Porches & Funerals started with a few cardboard containers of wine, a bag of Cheetos and a random statement of,“You know what would be funny…?” The rest, they say, is history.
The real MVPs of this game are our amazing beta readers: Angie, Cattigan, Misty, Crystal, and Michelle. Thank you for keeping it real and not judging us for being completely grammar-challenged at times.
A huge shout-out to Facebook for putting up with our constant back and forth posting of, “this is SO us,” memes on each other’s pages, and for Apple for stalking our texts and finally creating a duck emoji. Now, at least when autocorrect changes our curse words to “duck,” we have a graphic to go along with it. #duckflu.
Thanks to Robin for stepping in and editing our split personality comma selves. KA is a comma-phobe, and Cora is a comma-kaze. It’s that whole yin and yang thing we have going on.
Lastly, thank you to all our amazing readers and phenomenal bloggers for embracing this crazy idea of ours and allowing Addie and Savvy into your lives and hearts. Buckle up and settle in…the ride has only begun.
Cora’s Acknowledgements
There aren’t enough ways to thank someone who knows you better than you know yourself. KA…you’re more than my person…you’re my best friend, my sister, and my “give it to me straight” critique partner. That’s hard to find in one person. Aren’t you lucky I stalked your ass in the beginning and forced you to be my friend? Just say yes.
My street team, Cora’s Dark Angels are the most amazing group of ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Thanks for putting a smile on my face and for proudly rocking the FB orange jumpsuit just to promote my work. MUCH love.
Crystal, there isn’t enough space to thank you for all you do, and KA threatened me with bodily harm if I took up too much space. Just know I could never do this without you. EVER.
Thanks to Angie B. And Heather D., who answered my pathetic "I can't name this damn Plantation" self-pity contest with the perfect answer. Therefore, they get creds and mad love. Sugarbirch is the new "Tara."
All my family, friends, and anyone else I forgot to mention…you know it’s because I have the attention span of a squirrel crossing the highway. Support in this industry is key, and you all make it possible.
Lastly, thanks to my Southern mom and my own personal “Babs” for raising me on North Carolina front porches and teaching me that even though you may leave home, home never leaves you. Rest in peace, Ma-maw.
K.A.’s Acknowledgements
Getting to write a book with an author you admire is an exciting experience, when that author just so happens to be your best friend? Absolutely incredible. Cora, your work ethic is beyond words, I swear woman, I don’t think you even sleep. You push me every day to reach higher, push harder, and dream bigger, thank you.
To our Queen Pimpers, you ladies are amazing. Words cannot describe how appreciative we are for your support and passion for this book.
Robo, you my girl. Thank you for always lending an ear and letting me babble about my characters. Love you long time my hetero life mate.
J, thank you for never giving me shit about my phone going off at all hours of the day and night or when I pull out my laptop in the car. Thanks for believing in me, Babe. It means the world to me.
About the authors
K.A Ware is an indie author living in Portland, Oregon. Her days consist of working at her real-life job in the financial field and taking care of her young daughter. Writing is not her only passion, K.A. also serves on the Board of Directors for a local non-profit and spends way too much time reading. She believes in the power of words, alpha females, and that special escape you get when you hunker down into a good book.
When she’s not busy mothering, working, writing, or reading she enjoys spending time with family and friends and embracing the weirdness that is Portland. K.A. loves music, so if you find yourself at a metal show in Portland —take a look around— she’s the crazy redhead head banging at the front.
Cora Kenborn writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels with strong heroines, loveable bad boys, lots of danger, and snarky banter. She loves delving into the mind of a dark villain as well as giggling while writing light-hearted rom-com.
Cora gets a kick out of talking about herself in the third person and is a true Southern girl from Eastern North Carolina, who grew up on sweet tea, front porches, and the simple life. She says “y’all,” “fixin’ to,” and should you deserve it, will “bless your heart.” She’s the proud mother of three hyperactive and occasionally adorable children, and the wife of a husband who tolerates her chaotic writer’s cave.
Although reading is her passion, she can usually be found watching true crime shows and crafting inspiration for twisted new tales. Cora admits to being a horrible cook, an even worse baker, and
believes she’s more dangerous with a hot glue gun than any weapon on earth. Oh, and she and autocorrect are mortal enemies.
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@authorkaware @corakenborn
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K.A. WARE
The DeLuca Family Series:
Omertà
Vendetta
Notorious
The Dirty Bitches Series:
Hot Mess
CORA KENBORN
Lords of Lyre Series:
Fame and Obsession
Carrera Cartel Series:
Blurred Red Lines