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Friday Night Fever

Friday Night Fever
A fiancé who can’t keep his pants on, revenge that’s both inventive and vindictive, and being framed for a crime she didn’t commit. How on earth is Samantha going to survive this lot?

Sam’s life is perfect, until she finds out her boss wants to shag her and her boyfriend’s shagging someone else. It’s not something she’s going to take lying down, even if her revenge sees her having to flee New Zealand for safer shores.

Set in Melbourne, Australia in the late seventies, before email, mobile phones, and social media; when a woman could go full ‘Saturday Night Fever’, even on a Friday, without fear of achieving viral fame the following morning. Friday Night Fever will take you back to a time when women were making the most of their newly-won freedoms by behaving as badly as the boys—sometimes worse—and to hell with the consequences.

Only question is, will Sam beat the odds, come out on top, and get her happily-ever-after, or is she destined to land flat on her back, again?

Friday Night Fever is the first in Andrene Low's seventies-based Excess Baggage Series and is full of bad behaviour, bad language and lots of bad hair. If you like a laugh and enjoyed Grease, Stayin’ Alive or, more recently, That Seventies Show, then you’ll love Andrene’s cutting and irreverent take on this crazy decade.

Originally published as "This Girl's Abroad".

What others are saying:

“What a fun read! The story is unique, and the characters are super likeable. I would have enjoyed hanging out with these ladies in the seventies! The inclusion of dogs and their owners adds to the fun. Sam's romantic storyline is satisfying, and there are plenty of laughs along the way. I'm looking forward to reading more from Andrene Low.”

“Amusing, entertaining read. I would have given it 5 stars if it hadn't ended so suddenly. I was expecting more so was left wondering what happened next. But then I found book 2. Mounted and Hung. I have read this twice now, and salami boy still makes me laugh out loud.”

“I honestly loved this, and never picked the ending! The whole 1970's genre is perfectly captured in these pages, and I found myself lusting after a spa, platforms, and casual attitude to alcohol and sex! Read it and escape to a fantastic world of gold chains, cutesy dog outfits, and lots of very well written sex! Can't wait till the next instalment.”

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“Wow! It’s like Saturday Night Fever in here,” says Sam, as they walk into the disco.

“Duh except, it’s Friday,” says Brenda, without missing a beat.

“Come on, you guys.” Jennie drags the other two in her wake. “I love dancing when the strobe light’s on.”

It’s crowding midnight and Sam’s dancing herself into a trance when she looks up from their pile of handbags and spots your typical Latin Lover. He’s even got a white satin shirt open to the waist.

He catches her eye and raises his eyebrows; Sam smiles in response, meeting up with him in the middle of the flashing Perspex dance floor.

Due to his appalling English, they don’t talk much as they dance. She suspects he hasn’t long been out from the homeland. Because of the Aussie Government’s “come one, come all” immigration policy, there are more Greeks in Melbourne than Athens and the bars are crawling with Greek guys on the pull. The Greek girls are all safely tucked at home or only allowed out with a chaperone.

He’s spunky like most Greek men, but looks like he’s got a cat superglued to his chest. Sam can hardly make out the obligatory two kilos of gold chain hanging around his neck.

He pulls her hard up against him. Any closer and his genitals might as well be hers. She hopes her voice doesn’t start to drop.

“We go back your place!” he says, after a while.

Sam suspects they can’t go back to his place because his mama might still be up. On first arriving in Melbourne, she and Jennie had been shocked to discover that most of these strong, virile Greek men still lived at home with a woman who sported a better moustache than they did.

Before she can give her Nana Mouskouri impression a whirl, they’re in a taxi heading back to the flat, leaving the others to dance the night away. Even allowing for her new, untried method of dating, she’s duty-bound to sleep with him, given he’d gone to the expense of buying her a drink. At least that was how it seemed with most of the Greek guys, although if they were ugly, even they realised it would take a hell of a lot more than one.

It’s a first for Sam, sharing her body with someone whose name she can’t remember, let alone pronounce. Because it’s so impersonal, it’s also liberating. Knowing it won’t lead to wedded bliss takes away a lot of performance anxieties and if her heart’s not involved, can she truly be hurt?

Physically, yes. The gold chains he refuses to remove get caught in her pubes.

By the time Sam’s got the two of them apart, using her nail scissors, he’s sporting a bald patch in the middle of his chest and she’s looking like she’s had a Brazilian rather than a Greek.


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