This is a new book, The Hungry Ghost of Rue Orleans. It’s set in the fair city of New Orleans and features some of the delicious cuisine of that city as well as some of the jazz traditions.
Fred lived alone at 28 Rue Orleans. Once the house had been a jazzy, snazzy, sweet and spicy spot but now the floor squeaked, the roof leaked, and dust coated the chairs. But Fred liked his rickety house, all night he moaned and clicked his fingers and tended his tiny cactus. If he got hungry he gobbled some air, the perfect life for a ghost.
One day Pierre and his daughter Marie barged through Fred’s broken door, our new restaurant! They shouted. My house! Fred cried. But no one heard. Pierre banged nails, washed stairs, Marie swept away cobwebs, they polished windows, and painted walls. No! Fred wailed. But no one heard.
In came tables, chairs, and a giant stove. No more, Fred stomped his wispy foot, but no one heard. Trucks arrived with celery, peppers, and paprika spice, crawfish, onions, red beans and rice. Then such a noise, chop, whisk, sssss, whisk, chop.
And I’m going to end the reading right there and ask you all how do you think that story might end? Will Fred be forced to leave his home, will he decide to haunt the restaurant or will they be able to live together? Who knows.
