CONFESSIONS FROM A COFFEE SHOP
Cori Tisdale was on top of the world. A basketball star at Harvard and a promising author with a lucrative book deal.
A few years later, Cori’s life is falling apart. Her beautiful girlfriend, Kat Finn, has a shopping addiction. To make ends meet, Cori takes a part-time job at a coffee shop.
Just when Cori thinks her life can’t get any worse, an old crush appears out of the blue. Cori’s friendship with Samantha Clarke pushes Cori further into a dangerous abyss when Sam reveals two secrets to Cori and asks her not to tell a soul, including Kat.
Will this be the end of Cori’s and Kat’s relationship?
Excerpt 3 (some strong language)
“You know, Nell, we should start a book club and read erotica. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”
Kat had clearly imbibed too many margs, as well.
I shot her daggers, but she shrugged them off with an evil but loving smile.
“Oh, don’t mind her, Kat. She’s no fun. I know Barbara will join us.” Mom rubbed her hands together. “This will be so much fun.” She looked across the table at me. “Who needs your father? Let him boink that other woman all he wants.”
“No, no, no,” I muttered under my breath.
They ignored me completely.
“Listen!” I snapped my fingers in both of their faces. “No one is starting a book club of any type.”
“What’s wrong with you, Cori? You’re an English teacher.” Kat tsked, playfully.
“It’s not that.” Mom leaned toward my girlfriend conspiratorially. “Cori can’t talk about sex. I think ever since she came out of the bathroom—I mean—closet.”
I couldn’t tell whether my mother was trying to rile me or if she really was that wasted. I suspected the latter. Out of the bathroom? She was too hip to gay culture to commit that kind of mistake.
“Out of the bathroom!” Kat spewed margarita across the table with her words. “That’s a riot.” She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, careful not to smudge her lipstick.
Mom flashed a cunning smile, having got the desired reaction out of Kat. She always wanted to be the hippest one in any group. She lifted her glass to catch the waitress’s attention, and Kat raised her arm to order another as well.
Sure. Why not? I motioned for another, too.
If you can’t beat them, join them.
After eating peacefully for several minutes, Mom launched into me again. “Anyway, you can’t tell me what to do, Cori. Kat and I are starting a porno group, and you can’t stop us.”
My fork clattered onto my plate as the waitress approached, placed the drinks down, and hurried away.
Had Mom seen the waitress coming and timed her comment perfectly for maximum embarrassment?
“Thanks, Mother. You know I went to school near here. Someone might recognize me.”
T. B. Markinson is a 40-year old American writer, living in England, who pledged she would publish before she was 35. Better late than never. When she isn’t writing, she’s traveling around the world, watching sports on the telly, visiting pubs in England, or taking the dog for a walk. Not necessarily in that order. T. B. has published A Woman Lost, Marionette, and Confessions From A Coffee Shop.
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