Mary Campisi, author
Mary Campisi, author

NOT YOUR EVERYDAY HOUSEWIFE

Not Your Everyday Housewife by Mary CampisiNOT YOUR EVERYDAY HOUSEWIFE

Previously published by Wings e-Press Books 2009
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A wise and humorous tale of living large after 40 as women finally make peace with themselves- wrinkles, blubber, neuroses, exes, and all.

Three women embark on a month long ‘discovery’ journey and uncover quite a few tidbits along the way…one bottle of Clairol Midnight will not cover a full head of red hair, and never talk to men wearing polyester pants hiked up with a tan belt. But most of what they unearth is about themselves—who they are, what they really want, what they really DON'T want. The center of controversy is a Maid-for-You mixer which symbolizes a boring, routine suburban life with NO second chances—then along comes insight in the form of Tula Rae, a sixty-something Salsa dancing, Dalai Lama quoting, four time widow in spandex and a gray braid who gives them a different perspective on life, love, do-overs and the real reason a man buys his woman a Maid-for-You mixer, (which she says is all about S-E-X.)


Excerpt

“Name’s Tula Rae, girls.” The wiry creature with the gray braid trailing half way down her back hefted Shea’s luggage from the trunk with one hand. “Born in Mayesville, South Carolina, lived here since 1955 when I came with my first husband, Eddie Mame.” She grabbed one of Cyn’s bags and trekked up the front steps, talking over her shoulder in a deep Southern accent, “We was one of the first mixed couples to settle in Ogunquit.” She grinned at the women behind her, revealing the huge gap between her front teeth. “Tula Rae’s always giving them something to talk about, most times something to think about, too.”

Shea hoisted her suitcase up another stone step, trailing after the spitfire who referred to herself in third person. The woman was all legs and arms, no chest, with a little potbelly sticking out of her spandex shorts. Years of weathering and New England winds had wrinkled her skin to a crisp, raisin brown.

“There’s four bedrooms upstairs,” she said, pointing to a stairway in front of them. “This here’s the parlor, where you can entertain guests. That room to the left is the living room. It’s got a television but we got no cable and no remote. I like to say that straight up because too many people depend on a remote control like it’s part of their body. One couple refused to stay here on account of that.”

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that,” Cyn assured her.

“I sure as to God, hope not. This town’s got more to see than years to see it in. How long will ya’ll be staying?”

“Four weeks,” Derry said, “give or take a day or two.”

“Fine by me.” Tula Rae nodded her head and continued, “Kitchen’s in through there, three meals a day. Anything else you want, you got to buy it yourself, and do your own dishes.”

“Do we get a key to the house?” Shea checked the door on the way in—awful flimsy, no deadbolt.

“A key? Tula Rae ain’t locked her door since she and Eddie moved here in 1955.”

Reviews

"Desperate Housewives meets Thelma and Louise Plus One in NOT YOUR EVERYDAY HOUSEWIFE. The question is, will the characters end in a pouf of quirky chaos like the ladies of Wisteria Lane or end up driving off an emotional cliff like the famous movie heroines?"

Kris Jones, Reviewer- Romance Junkies


Not Your Everyday Housewife is not your ordinary romance.

Suzie Housley, Midwest Book Review