In a crisis torn, South American country, only little Ann's faith, her determination, and one young woman could help keep her dreams of escape alive.

A true story...
Find a synopsis and other details about Sunday’s Child at my confidence blog (linked). Read excerpts here: List of Books on Amazon

Rum Burns Your Tongue - Excerpt 8

There’s a lady who has a little stand outside the optician’s shop. She sells tamarind sours, plantain chips and black pudding. As I went past, the black pudding and the tamarind sour looked especially nice from the distance. My mouth sprouted water, just thinking of them together on a nice piece of grease-proof paper.
The shop I was sent to was quite near our house so I had to be quick. On the way back, rum in hand, I went to this lady and spent my dollar on a small cut of black pudding – not forgetting, a touch of tamarind sour on the very top. Since I was in such a hurry, all I had time to do was to gobble it up quickly and make sure it was all gone before I got home. Mammy couldn’t know I had the money, you see. It wasn’t until the black pudding had gone down that I realised there was something putridly wrong with it.

When I got home, as I was taking my slippers off at the door as usual, Mammy told me to get out of her house and wash my slippers downstairs.
“You mash dog dung!” She shouted, taking the rum from my hands. “How come you can’t smell that horrible smell?”
I went down and washed my slippers, but I knew that the smelly culprit was a long way from my feet.
After a while I came back up and kept my mouth tightly closed. I figured that if I could manage to keep it shut until we had the lovely curried chicken, that the hot spicy curry sauce would cover up the bad ‘dog dung’ smell coming from within my now contaminated mouth and stomach. As soon as I entered the house again, Mammy sent me straight back out.
“Ah could still smell that dung. Wot them people give them dogs to eat these days, eh? Wash yuh feet dis time,” she said, getting ready to tuck into her curry, as she poured her rum out into a small glass.

“Come Mr tally man,
Tally me banana.
Daylight come and me waan go home.”

Harry Bellafonte sang on the radio as I walked downstairs for the second time. If only I could get my toothbrush. Theresa came down to tell me that my food was getting cold and I mouthed to her that I had eaten rotten black pudding. She came in to smell my breath but as I opened my mouth, she reeled back violently. We both giggled uncontrollably, we had to both rest our hands on our knees to stop ourselves from falling down with laughter. Theresa said she was coming back, and ran upstairs. Seconds later, she came back with a bar of Zex washing soap and some toothpaste hidden in the palm of her hand.
“What’s the soap for?” I asked.
“Ah had to tell Mammy I was bringing the soap for you to wash your feet with,” she answered.
At last I was able to go up and eat my nice curry. My mouth was watering despite the taste of Colgate on my tongue. Mammy gave us all a sip of her rum, it burned my tongue a bit but it wasn’t too bad.
Everyone finished eating before me and as I sat finishing my dinner, listening to Tom Jones on the radio, I was thinking that maybe we would get a story tonight, after all . . .

“Anne!” Mammy shouted loudly, so loudly that her voice broke in the middle of my name. I knew I was in trouble even before I saw her face. I left my food and stood up in a panic. She had called my name, I must be in evil trouble this time.


Monique said...

That rotten black pudding just about gave me a taste in the mouth too. I'm sure that you can still taste it too.

Good beginning. I hope soon there is more to come. You're always a good read Anne.

dabrah said...

Another excerpt, another cliffhanger. What was Mammie's problem this time? I guess I'll just have to wait for the book. Anne, this is so good.

Unknown said...

Anne, you are such a wonderful writer. I devour your words, and feel the knot in my stomach when you are yelled at. I could hug Theresa. I know you've changed her name, but I hope you still have contact. She'd be crazy about your beautiful children.

Icy BC said...


You're a wonderful writter. I hope to hold your book one day in my hand, and said I know the writer!

I'll be so proud and honnored..

Anne Lyken-Garner said...

HI Monique, Thanks for the compliment. Hopefully, I wouldn't have put the whole book up in excerpts before I find a publisher. :-(

I've already got 7 or 8 excerpts up here and am already thinking about what the next one should be.

Dabs, thanks once again, you've been so faithful and constant in reading my work, so it pains me to say it but yes, you'll have to wait I'm afraid.

Judy, I will reveal something here that I was keeping for my next book, (just between you and me).

I didn't change Theresa's name because sadly, she has died. She died of TB at the ripe old age of 46, two years ago. It really hit me for six. I was hoping to take the kids back so that she could meet them. You are so right, she would've loved them. She's only met my oldest and it was a joy to watch her in her arms. Theresa had always done every thing for every one else, she was my God-sent, real life angel. Her death wasn't fair at all.

Of course at this point in the book, because it is written in real time, I couldn't have 'known' about her death.

Icy, me too, I really do.


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