It was winter, and I longed for the warmth of sunshine on my face, the grainy squish of sand under my bare toes, and the tang of sea salt in my nostrils. Then one afternoon I opened my email from freebooksy.com, with the usual tickle of anticipation for the day’s complimentary ebooks . . . and saw Ode to a Fish Sandwich, the first volume in a series called Quirky Tales from the Caribbean. What could sound more delightful in a season of cold and darkness?
Okay, let me insert a dose of honesty here. Though the calendar was indeed set to winter, I live in Central Florida, where days of what other folks consider true cold can be counted on less than ten fingers—and there’s a reason it’s called the Sunshine State. I won’t even mention the fact that I live an hour from the closest beach.
But I not only rather like fish sandwiches, the idea of one being good enough to inspire an ode, much less a novel, caught my fancy. Add in “quirky” (I have a lifelong fascination with the unusual and weird) and “Caribbean,” a place I have yet to visit even though I’m deeply in love with the idea of it, and I was hooked like the original titular fish before I’d read a complete chapter.
It’s impossible not to pity a man who is jilted by his lady at the altar, but I found myself cheering Dr. Walcott Emerson Jones on his unexpected decision to pull a Carrie Bradshaw and go on his honeymoon alone. To a couples resort, no less! But how would our fish-belly-white, studiously sun-avoiding dermatologist hero actually make out in such a setting—not to mention climate? And how did a sandwich fit into his adventure?
Once again, I’m not going to give away too much of the plot, but here’s part of what I wrote to New York Times bestselling author Rebecca M. Hale:
I was tickled at how the good doctor’s occasionally hilarious sunscreen obsession inspired Winnie’s remark that he “probably glows in the dark”; impressed by how your gift for painting a word picture took us straight into Delilah’s Beachside Diner, the painstakingly manicured resort, the prickly sugar cane. I felt the heat with the locals and the sweating doctor. Smelled that grill-seared fish—and wanted a bite! (“A hearty chunk of protein, dusted with savory salt, tinged with the sweetness of the sea.” Yum.) I loved the way you set up a hint of danger in the Introduction, kept your chapters bite-sized with just enough hints of warning to keep us moving at a rapid clip while wanting more. Human foibles and longings were believable and relatable (well, most of them!). And that oh-so-satisfying-she-got-what-she-deserved-yet-still-mysterious ending. Thank you for giving me such a satisfying read and taste for more Quirky Tales from the Caribbean. I’m looking forward to checking out Volumes 2 and 3.
Are you in the mood for an entertaining, laugh-out-loud, keep-you-guessing-till-the-end beach read this summer? Do yourself a favor. Pick up a copy of Ode to a Fish Sandwich and pack it with your “White Wally”-approved sunscreen and picnic basket. Then settle in for a good time . . . preferably with a fish sandwich of your own.
Though I can’t guarantee it’ll be as good as Winnie’s.
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