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On Sale: Now
Paperback
419 Pages
ISBN: 0-06-056465-2
The night before her wedding, in the middle of an oh-so-smart rehearsal dinner, interior decorator Keeley Murdock chances upon her fiancé and her maid of honor "doing the deed." Keeley pitches the hissy fit of the century, storms out and earns herself instant notoriety in her tiny hometown of Madison, GA.
Over the next few days, Keeley has to deal not only with the embarrassment of a broken engagement but also with the financial pressure her ex's powerful family puts on her business. Rescue comes in the form of a new face in town, a wealthy red-headed stranger with an impossible agenda. As the new owner of the local run-down bra plant that he plans to revive along with the tiny town, Will Mahoney hires Keeley to completely redecorate the dilapidated antebellum mansion he plans to restore in record time. As Keeley dives into her new, nearly impossible project, she inadvertently unearths long-buried demons from her past and learns that for a small town, Madison holds many dark secrets.
HISSY FIT brims with descriptions of antiques and designer goods that are so lush they could be called decorator porn. Many of the scrumptious descriptions of stylish household goods and historic furniture are based on Mary Kay Andrews' research and expertise as an antiques "picker." Mary Kay's buying trips to flea markets and furniture marts all over the South inspired her descriptions of the beautiful mahogany dining tables, crystal wall sconces, and the Empire daybeds that Keeley swoons over in HISSY FIT.
Ultimately, Keeley finds that true love can come even to those who throw humdinger hissy fits. HISSY FIT is a delicious social satire that will be sure to satisfy fans of fine fiction.
Taking care of last-minute details and attending an endless round of soirees leading up to her wedding has taken its toll on Keeley Rae Murdock. She has wanted "to scream for several weeks now," and the night before the nuptials she does just that…and more. When she walks in on her fiancé, A.J. Jernigan, in a compromising position with her maid of honor in the country club boardroom during the rehearsal dinner, Keeley pitches a hissy fit --- complete with flying trophies, tableware, and red thong underwear. Keeley's hissy fit does more than extend her single status; it sets in motion a series of events that have her both delving into the past and looking toward the future.
Madison, Georgia, is a small town, and soon everyone is abuzz about the wedding-that-wasn't. A few days after Keeley lets loose, as her Aunt Gloria says, "the grits hit the fan." A.J.'s spiteful banking family uses their influence to intimidate clients of Glorious Interiors, the high-end interior design company Keeley co-owns with Gloria, into seeking advice and furnishings elsewhere.
Into the picture drives Will Mahoney in a vintage yellow Cadillac. Red-haired, charismatic Will is the new owner --- "lock, stock, and patented twin crossover underwires" --- of Loving Cup Intimates, a bra plant in Madison that has seen better days. He's also purchased a run-down antebellum mansion, and he has a business proposition for Keeley: completely remodel the house in six months.
Will has an ulterior motive. He's become infatuated with a woman he saw on television during a telethon fundraiser. He has yet to meet Stephanie Scofield in person, but he's convinced the blonde Atlanta lawyer is his soul mate. To entice her to leave her posh city life for rural Madison, he wants to create a dream house she won't be able to resist. For Stephanie, though, it's the size of Will's wallet that piques her interest.
Not only does Keeley refuse Will's offer, she insults him by calling him "bra boy." But with clients still dropping like flies, she begins to reconsider his proposition. After some meddling by her father --- and once she actually sees the house and realizes its potential --- Keeley agrees to take the job. "Me and old houses. I'm hopeless. I'm a total house voyeur," she says. "You know how some people attract stray dogs and cats? I'm that way about houses. Every old wreck I see, I want to fix up and move into."
As Keeley dives into the makeover of Mulberry Hill, her friend Austin begins a search for information about her mother, Jeanine Murdock, who disappeared without a trace 25 years earlier. The entire town, including Keeley and her father, believes she ran off with a local salesman. Not a word has been heard from her in all these years, something that has haunted Keeley since she was seven.
In its opening pages, HISSY FIT appears to be a romantic comedy. It is romantic and it is comedic, but Mary Kay Andrews doesn't leave it there. A touch of mystery, a small-town Southern setting, matters of the heart, and luscious details about furniture and fabrics add up to an engaging, multi-layered tale. Throw in a spectacular hissy fit, an antiques-filled road trip to Savannah and New Orleans, and a man who can give you advice on what bra to wear, and you have a read that's more intoxicating than a mint julep.
Although Keeley and Will's relationship takes a backseat to the other threads in the storyline (clinch count: two), plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and intriguing questions will keep you turning the pages. What really happened to Jeanine Murdock? Does A.J. get his just desserts? Does Keeley get the good guy? And more important, does she get the house?
--- Reviewed by Shannon McKenna
Bookreporter.com Co-Founder Carol Fitzgerald recently spoke with Mary Kay Andrews, whose newest book is HISSY FIT. In this interview Mary Kay talks about her love of interior design and some of the pieces she has collected over the years from tag sales and auctions. She admits that, although she is a sweet, Southern belle in everyday life, she has been known to throw a hissy fit of her own when extremely agitated. Mary Kay also describes the sequel to SAVANNAH BLUES, which will focus on the character of BeBe Loudermilk and is scheduled to be released late next summer.
BRC: When you started writing HISSY FIT did you see the scorned bride-to-be first or did the story actually take shape another way?
MKA: I actually had the title HISSY FIT before I had a plot to go along with it. The story of the bride-done-wrong seemed to follow pretty naturally. And I'd known a man who bought a house and decorated it for a woman, hoping she would move into it, so the pieces seemed to fall together pretty naturally.
BRC: Reading about Keeley decorating Will Mahoney's house, we sense that you were loving this part of the writing. We could feel you salivating over each find and seeing the house coming together. When you wrote, did you sketch the rooms or do any kinds of drawings to use as reference?
MKA: I'm a nester by instinct, and a voracious reader and clipper of design magazines like Verandah, House Beautiful and Country Home. I did some quick (bad) sketches, and actually shopped at the Atlanta Decorative Arts Center with an interior designer friend for some of the pieces Keeley buys in HISSY FIT.
BRC: The fact that Will has come to town to revitalize the local bra plant is a great subplot. Why bras? Is this any sort of a social commentary on the fact that so many manufacturing jobs are now moving overseas?
MKA: At first I was going to have Will buy a struggling textile factory, and then, one night, it came to me: bras! Once I started doing the research, I discovered, to my dismay, that almost no bra manufacturing still takes place in the U.S. So I needed to write about those job losses in a meaningful way. Living in North Carolina now, I see almost daily stories about the losses of jobs in textiles and apparel manufacturing, which once accounted for a huge number of jobs here and in the rest of the South.
BRC: Your knowledge of period furniture as well as decorating detail is one thing that makes your books such great reads. Do you have any formal training in decorating or interior design?
MKA: I had to laugh at the notion of my having any formal training. I'm just like a lot of my friends, women who get joy out of making their surroundings beautiful. I love the hunt, and I love seeing beautiful, liveable homes. My husband says I'm a house voyeur.
BRC: If you were not writing, would you want to become an interior designer, or is it more fun to write the houses of your dreams without the clients to interfere with them?
MKA: As a teenager, I was attracted to interior design, but then, writing carried me away. Still, I'd love to be able to buy at "To the Trade" prices and places, just like the real pros can.
BRC: Reading your books, we know there are going to be great laughs. We would love to know, do you laugh as you write these books as much as we do when we read them?
MKA: I don't laugh as much as I chortle. Or maybe snigger. I'll admit to sniggering.
BRC: We know you love to shop at tag sales, hit the auctions and collect, which now, of course, all fall under the heading --- research. What's your favorite recent "find"?
MKA: My favorite recent find would have to be a beautiful mahogany 1850s secretary I bought last weekend at the Metrolina Antique Show in Charlotte. I've been looking for a piece like it for months, and was elated to find it at a reasonable price. Of course, I had to bargain the price down!
BRC: Is there one day that is truly memorable for you for junking and collecting? If so, can you tell us about it?
MKA: I love to junk when I'm out on a book tour. Years ago, I was in San Diego, on a Sunday, with no signings. I jumped in the rental car, drove to Long Beach and went to the outdoor flea market there. I bought little things I could pack in my suitcase, but it was a great day. And last Friday, my friend Mary and I had a fantastic time at Metrolina. It was my first time, and I made some major scores --- like a chandelier for a hundred bucks, and an oil painting for $49.
BRC: Do you watch any decorating shows like "Trading Spaces" or "Merge" or antiques shows like "Antiques Roadshow"? Any faves?
MKA: I'm an HGTV junkie. Love Kitty Bartholomew's show and "Curb Appeal."
BRC: I gave some thought to your name when I was in Dallas recently and there were 11,000 Mary Kay reps in town at the same time. I know your pen name came from your children's names, but we could not help but notice that you share the same name as the ladies with pink Cadillacs. Care to comment on this? Anything subliminal going on with your name?
MKA: Stupid me, I didn't even consider the Mary Kay implications when I chose my pseudonym. I don't think there's any subliminal meaning there, but who knows?
BRC: We have to ask. Can you, ahem, pitch a hissy fit of Olympic proportions if necessary, or do you always keep your emotions in check?
MKA: In real life, I'm an easy-going, polite, Southern belle. But yes, if you get me sufficiently riled up, I WILL pitch a hissy, especially if my family is involved.
BRC: Many authors tell us that they scribble notes for future books and hold onto them in folders or notebooks. What's your style for this?
MKA: System? You're supposed to have a system for this stuff? I make notes in journals, then lose them. If I have a system, it's telling my agent about my brilliant ideas. If he likes them, then I pursue them.
BRC: You are working on a sequel to SAVANNAH BLUES. What can you tell readers about this book, and when can they expect to see it?
MKA: I have finished the sequel to SAVANNAH BLUES, called BREEZE INN. This time the story belongs to Weezie's best friend, BeBe Loudermilk, and most of it takes place out at Tybee Island with, of course, suitable junking and design expeditions. Look for it in Spring 2006.
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Chapter One
If it had not been for my fiance's alcoholic cousin Mookie I feel quite sure that my daddy would still be a member in good standing at the Oconee Hills Country Club. But Mookie can't drink hard liquor. She can drink beer and wine all day and all night and not bat an eyelash, but give her a mai-tai or, God forbid, a margarita, and you are asking for trouble.
It was my rehearsal dinner, which the Jernigans were hosting, and I was the bride-to-be, so I don't believe I should have been the one responsible for keeping a grown woman and mother of two away from the margarita machine, even if she was one of the bridesmaids.
Nonetheless, I was the one standing there when Mookie went spinning out of control across the dance floor, and I was the one who got sprayed with a good six ounces of strawberry margarita. And across the front of my blue raw silk Tahari dress too.
"For God's sake," snapped GiGi, my mother-in-law-to-be. She of course had neatly sidestepped Mookie, leaving her own pale pink beaded gown spotless. "I told you not to have her in the wedding. You know how she gets."
"Keeley," Mookie yelped, lunging at me with her half-empty glass. "I am sooooo sorry. Let me help you get cleaned up."
She proceeded to dump the rest of her drink down my back.
"It's fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "Just a little spot."
Mookie's mother, who is used to this kind of behavior, snatched her up by the arm and started dragging her toward the door so she wouldn't cause any more of a scene, and all the women closed ranks around me, dabbing and fussing until I wanted to scream.
Actually, I'd been wanting to scream for several weeks now.
Enough! Enough parties. Enough presents. Enough luncheons and teas, enough sappy wedding showers, enough family and friends oohing and aahing over the perfect couple.
A.J. had had enough too. "Can't we just go somewhere and screw our brains out for a couple weeks, then come back and be normal?" he'd asked the night before the rehearsal dinner.
It had been a busy week. I'd already endured the "Sip 'n See Tea," where everybody in the county came by my daddy's house to paw over my wedding loot, and the bridesmaids' luncheon where GiGi let it be known that she thought it was awful my mama hadn't been invited to the wedding. As if I even knew where Mama had been living for the past twenty-some years.
And that was just the solo stuff. That very night A.J. and I had suffered through the "His 'n Her Barbecue Shower" given by one of his former fraternity brothers.
At the time he asked this question, A.J. was modeling the Hot Stuff! barbecue apron and padded oven mitt, which had been a shower gift from his Aunt Norma. To be perfectly honest, A.J. was naked under the apron. And he wasn't wearing the mitt where his Aunt Norma had intended.
I had A.J. backed into the corner with the barbecue tongs, and then one thing led to another, and pretty soon we were rolling around on the floor of his apartment, and my chef's hat came off along with the rest of my clothes, and the next thing you know, A.J. was having one of his attacks.
"Hee-upp! Hee-upp." His whole body arched backward. I pushed him away, not startled really. A.J. gets like that sometimes when he's, uh, in the throes.
"Breathe, baby, breathe," I instructed, slithering out from under him.
"No," he managed, between hiccups. "Don't stop, Keeley." He tried to pull me back down. "Come on. I'll be all right."
"Hee-upp! Hee-upp! Hee-upp." His body jerked violently with each hiccup. I was afraid he'd hurt himself. Hell, I was afraid he'd hurt me. Not to mention that I don't find fits of uncontrollable hiccups much of a turn-on. Not even when the hiccupper is the love of my life.
I scrambled to my feet, ran to the sink, and filled a cup with water. "Come on, A.J.," I said, helping him to his feet. "It's better if you stand up. Come on, sugar, drink some water for Keeley."
"I (hee) don't (up) want any damn hee-uppp! water," A.J. stuttered. But he took a sip anyway.
"Another one," I urged, rubbing his bare back. He caught my free hand and slid it down his belly. The man never stops trying.
"No, now," I said, giggling and moving away. He pulled me back toward him. I held out the cup. "Not until you drink all this water."
He frowned but started sipping.
"Go slower," I said. "You know it's the only thing that works."
"I know what works," he said, getting that look in his eye again. "Come back over here and rub on me again."
But I'd picked up my clothes and was already hurrying into the bedroom to get dressed.
"Hey!" he called after me. "That wasn't the deal."
I pushed the button on the doorknob. "I know," I called through the locked door. "I tricked you."
By the time he found the key to the bedroom door I was just zipping my skirt.
"Aw, Keeley," he said, his lip thrust out in that adorable pout of his. "I wanted us to do it one more time tonight."
I tried to kiss the pout away, but he wasn't having it.
"A.J.," I said, pushing his hands away from the button he was unfastening.
"Now, really. The wedding's just a few days away. I have an early morning meeting and a ton of stuff to do. I can't be staying over here fooling around with you all night."
"Come on, baby," he whispered, sliding the zipper on my skirt down while pushing my skirt up toward my waist. "Once we're married, it won't be as much fun as this. We'll be all legal and stuff."
Excerpted from HISSY FIT. Copyright © 2004 by Mary Kay Andrews. Harpercollins Publishers. All rights reserved.
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