About
the Book
Title:
Flamingos, Dust and Occasional Leopards
Author:
Sarah Knipping
Genre:
Women’s Fiction
After a painful
breakup Iris finds herself standing outside her mother’s doorway,
her feet six inches deep in the Kenyan dust. A bra-less hippy version
of her mum embraces her and so begins Iris’s
adventure in Kenya…
Can Iris fix her broken relationship with her mum?
Can she mend her wounded heart?
Will an adventure in Kenya prove to be just what Iris needs, or will it prove to be all too much?
adventure in Kenya…
Can Iris fix her broken relationship with her mum?
Can she mend her wounded heart?
Will an adventure in Kenya prove to be just what Iris needs, or will it prove to be all too much?
Author
Bio
Sarah Knipping is a Wellington based author with a passion for reading, travel, and coffee. Having wandered her way across 37 countries, Sarah is now New Zealand based and focused on her writing
(when she’s not busy in her wonderful day job, teaching).
Links
http://sarahknipping.com/
https://www.facebook.com/SarahKnippingWriter/
https://twitter.com/SarahKnipping
https://instagram.com/sarah_knipping/
Sarah Knipping is a Wellington based author with a passion for reading, travel, and coffee. Having wandered her way across 37 countries, Sarah is now New Zealand based and focused on her writing
(when she’s not busy in her wonderful day job, teaching).
Links
http://sarahknipping.com/
https://www.facebook.com/SarahKnippingWriter/
https://twitter.com/SarahKnipping
https://instagram.com/sarah_knipping/
Buy on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Flamingos-Dust-Occasional-Leopards-Iris-ebook/dp/B016GJWB3C/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1447315657&sr=8-1&keywords=flamingos+dust
Books Excerpts
Books Excerpts
Excerpt
One:
"‘How did you sleep?’ Sylvia was wrapped in a loose dressing gown. She
settled herself into the couch opposite Iris and tucked her legs up
under her bum, her feet disappearing into the folds of her robe.
Iris laughed. ‘Honestly, not all that well. How the hell do you sleep
through the racket those dogs make? They were barking all night long!’
Sylvia grinned. ‘I call it the neighbourhood chorus! It only takes one
of them to get going and suddenly everyone’s dog is barking and
howling into the night.’
‘At one point I thought I heard a bloody cow join in,’ Iris rubbed her
eyes. They were hot and sore from fatigue and dust.
‘I know, it’s terrible. But eventually you don’t even hear it anymore.’
Iris shrugged. ‘I’m not so sure that’s possible. It was so loud I
thought they were all inside my bedroom at one stage.’
Sylvia laughed again. ‘Come on. Get that coffee in you and get in that
shower! I want to show you around town.’
Iris let herself be guided to the bathroom as towels, shampoos, and
lotions were loaded into her arms. It felt nice to be mothered a
little bit. This was exactly what she needed. A little TLC and someone
telling her what to do for a while. Being reminded to shower and eat,
being reminded to smile and laugh.
She had to stifle a gasp as her mother opened the door into the
bathroom. In her tired stupor the night prior, Iris had collapsed into
bed without even seeing the rest of the house. The bathroom, as it
turned out, was even smaller than her bedroom. It was a closet. A
squat toilet was built into the floor and a shower head hung over the
top.
‘I shower on the toilet?’ she asked.
‘Yes, well, over the toilet anyhow,’ Sylvia said, seemingly unaware of
Iris’s surprise. ‘I usually find it easier to keep my towel outside
the door, else it gets soaked! I’ll leave you to it. Come into the
lounge when you’re finished and I’ll have breakfast ready for us.’
Iris grabbed her mother’s wrist as she turned to leave. ‘Thanks, Mum,’
she said quietly.
Sylvia paused. ‘For what?’
‘For being my mum and letting me come and recover here for a while.’
Iris felt herself being wrapped tightly in her mother’s arms, her
faced squashed into the nape of her neck, and that eternally familiar
smell of her mother’s scent filling her nostrils.
‘Baby girl, even if I am a million miles away, I’m still your mum, and
my most important job will always be looking after you.’ "
Excerpt two:
‘Our ride is here!’ Sylvia beamed, waving manically at the two men
driving towards them. ‘Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?’
Iris shook her head at her mother. Her mother knew full well that she
had never touched a motorcycle, let alone ridden one.
‘Oh, it’s so fun, you’ll love it!’ Sylvia swung a leg over the back of
one of the bikes and wrapped her arms around driver’s waist. She waved
her arms around, signalling that Iris should do the same.
Iris took a breath. ‘Oh, why the hell not?’ she muttered to herself.
She was here to experience new things, after all. She climbed onto the
back of the bike, letting the driver guide her feet onto two little
foot pegs below her.
‘What’s your name?’ she shouted.
‘David,’ he called back in a thick Kenyan accent.
‘Hi David, I’m Iris,’ she said, smiling politely even though he
couldn’t see her face.
‘Hold onto me or the back,’ he shouted, it came out muffled through
his helmet. She reached for his waist and then changed her mind as a
strong whiff came off his puffer jacket and assaulted her nostrils.
Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the metallic bar behind her.
Iris let out a small scream as David hit the throttle. The little bike
teetered and bumped along the road, dust flying all up the sides and
into her eyes. She was sure she was going to get bounced off this
thing. They got to the end of the road and the driver turned quickly
at a ninety degree angle onto the next road, which was astoundingly
even more bumpy than the last.
‘Oh Jesus,’ Iris cried, her knuckles white as she clung onto the bike
for dear life.
As they made their way further and further down the streets towards
town, they began to teem more and more with life. Goats, sheep, and
cows ambled their way along the roads. Women walking with babies
strapped to their backs. Men carrying carts filled with goods.
Motorbikes. Tuktuks. Bicycles. Cars. Buses. Trucks. Iris couldn’t
believe the amount of traffic that was packed onto each road.
They finally merged onto a tarmacked road and Iris saw the houses
disappear behind her and the buildings of the town rise in front of
her. She let out a breath as the ride got smoother on the paved
surface.
Excerpt Three:
‘Good morning, class,’ she said as the last one squeezed into his
desk. Mary wasn’t there yet, and Iris figured it would be safe to
assume that she would be teaching alone again today.
‘Good morning, Teacher Iris,’ came the chorus.
She turned her back to them seriously and scribbled the date in chalk
on the board. She clapped her hands together in her serious new
teacher way and said, ‘today things are going to be a little
different. But,’ she held up one finger. She knew the one thing she
was going to need to do was keep control. The last thing she needed
was Leonard storming in because of a room of over-excited toddlers.
‘You all need to listen. If there is anyone who chooses not to follow
instructions, they will not get to use the new things. Do you all
understand?’
‘Yes, teacher,’ they all nodded.
She smiled. ‘Good. Now let’s see how we get on shall we?’
The first things she handed out were fresh pencils with erasers. The
day before she had noticed Boniface using a pencil that was literally
two centimetres long. She had no idea how he had managed to write with
it, and legibly at that.
There was a burst of excitement as they got passed around.
‘Shh,’ she reminded them. Seriously, the last person she wanted to see
this morning was Teacher Leonard and his cane.
She watched as the pencils got to the end of the line. She was one short.
‘Teacher, I don’t have one,’ came the little voice of Michael in the
back. Her heart melted at his sad little face.
‘Don’t worry, I got one for everyone. It must still be here in the
bag,’ she reassured him. She rummaged through the plastic bags in
search of another pencil. She had counted twice at the store. Was it
possible she had dropped one?
The noise in the classroom was starting to escalate. Iris knew it was
time for one of her claps to bring everyone back in line, but she was
so desperate to find Michael’s pencil she didn’t stop to take the
time. Little tears were starting to spring out of the sides of his
eyes and she could see his bottom lip start to tremble. She couldn’t
bear to see him cry. That wasn’t her intention! She wanted to make
them all happy, not sad.
"‘How did you sleep?’ Sylvia was wrapped in a loose dressing gown. She
settled herself into the couch opposite Iris and tucked her legs up
under her bum, her feet disappearing into the folds of her robe.
Iris laughed. ‘Honestly, not all that well. How the hell do you sleep
through the racket those dogs make? They were barking all night long!’
Sylvia grinned. ‘I call it the neighbourhood chorus! It only takes one
of them to get going and suddenly everyone’s dog is barking and
howling into the night.’
‘At one point I thought I heard a bloody cow join in,’ Iris rubbed her
eyes. They were hot and sore from fatigue and dust.
‘I know, it’s terrible. But eventually you don’t even hear it anymore.’
Iris shrugged. ‘I’m not so sure that’s possible. It was so loud I
thought they were all inside my bedroom at one stage.’
Sylvia laughed again. ‘Come on. Get that coffee in you and get in that
shower! I want to show you around town.’
Iris let herself be guided to the bathroom as towels, shampoos, and
lotions were loaded into her arms. It felt nice to be mothered a
little bit. This was exactly what she needed. A little TLC and someone
telling her what to do for a while. Being reminded to shower and eat,
being reminded to smile and laugh.
She had to stifle a gasp as her mother opened the door into the
bathroom. In her tired stupor the night prior, Iris had collapsed into
bed without even seeing the rest of the house. The bathroom, as it
turned out, was even smaller than her bedroom. It was a closet. A
squat toilet was built into the floor and a shower head hung over the
top.
‘I shower on the toilet?’ she asked.
‘Yes, well, over the toilet anyhow,’ Sylvia said, seemingly unaware of
Iris’s surprise. ‘I usually find it easier to keep my towel outside
the door, else it gets soaked! I’ll leave you to it. Come into the
lounge when you’re finished and I’ll have breakfast ready for us.’
Iris grabbed her mother’s wrist as she turned to leave. ‘Thanks, Mum,’
she said quietly.
Sylvia paused. ‘For what?’
‘For being my mum and letting me come and recover here for a while.’
Iris felt herself being wrapped tightly in her mother’s arms, her
faced squashed into the nape of her neck, and that eternally familiar
smell of her mother’s scent filling her nostrils.
‘Baby girl, even if I am a million miles away, I’m still your mum, and
my most important job will always be looking after you.’ "
Excerpt two:
‘Our ride is here!’ Sylvia beamed, waving manically at the two men
driving towards them. ‘Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?’
Iris shook her head at her mother. Her mother knew full well that she
had never touched a motorcycle, let alone ridden one.
‘Oh, it’s so fun, you’ll love it!’ Sylvia swung a leg over the back of
one of the bikes and wrapped her arms around driver’s waist. She waved
her arms around, signalling that Iris should do the same.
Iris took a breath. ‘Oh, why the hell not?’ she muttered to herself.
She was here to experience new things, after all. She climbed onto the
back of the bike, letting the driver guide her feet onto two little
foot pegs below her.
‘What’s your name?’ she shouted.
‘David,’ he called back in a thick Kenyan accent.
‘Hi David, I’m Iris,’ she said, smiling politely even though he
couldn’t see her face.
‘Hold onto me or the back,’ he shouted, it came out muffled through
his helmet. She reached for his waist and then changed her mind as a
strong whiff came off his puffer jacket and assaulted her nostrils.
Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the metallic bar behind her.
Iris let out a small scream as David hit the throttle. The little bike
teetered and bumped along the road, dust flying all up the sides and
into her eyes. She was sure she was going to get bounced off this
thing. They got to the end of the road and the driver turned quickly
at a ninety degree angle onto the next road, which was astoundingly
even more bumpy than the last.
‘Oh Jesus,’ Iris cried, her knuckles white as she clung onto the bike
for dear life.
As they made their way further and further down the streets towards
town, they began to teem more and more with life. Goats, sheep, and
cows ambled their way along the roads. Women walking with babies
strapped to their backs. Men carrying carts filled with goods.
Motorbikes. Tuktuks. Bicycles. Cars. Buses. Trucks. Iris couldn’t
believe the amount of traffic that was packed onto each road.
They finally merged onto a tarmacked road and Iris saw the houses
disappear behind her and the buildings of the town rise in front of
her. She let out a breath as the ride got smoother on the paved
surface.
Excerpt Three:
‘Good morning, class,’ she said as the last one squeezed into his
desk. Mary wasn’t there yet, and Iris figured it would be safe to
assume that she would be teaching alone again today.
‘Good morning, Teacher Iris,’ came the chorus.
She turned her back to them seriously and scribbled the date in chalk
on the board. She clapped her hands together in her serious new
teacher way and said, ‘today things are going to be a little
different. But,’ she held up one finger. She knew the one thing she
was going to need to do was keep control. The last thing she needed
was Leonard storming in because of a room of over-excited toddlers.
‘You all need to listen. If there is anyone who chooses not to follow
instructions, they will not get to use the new things. Do you all
understand?’
‘Yes, teacher,’ they all nodded.
She smiled. ‘Good. Now let’s see how we get on shall we?’
The first things she handed out were fresh pencils with erasers. The
day before she had noticed Boniface using a pencil that was literally
two centimetres long. She had no idea how he had managed to write with
it, and legibly at that.
There was a burst of excitement as they got passed around.
‘Shh,’ she reminded them. Seriously, the last person she wanted to see
this morning was Teacher Leonard and his cane.
She watched as the pencils got to the end of the line. She was one short.
‘Teacher, I don’t have one,’ came the little voice of Michael in the
back. Her heart melted at his sad little face.
‘Don’t worry, I got one for everyone. It must still be here in the
bag,’ she reassured him. She rummaged through the plastic bags in
search of another pencil. She had counted twice at the store. Was it
possible she had dropped one?
The noise in the classroom was starting to escalate. Iris knew it was
time for one of her claps to bring everyone back in line, but she was
so desperate to find Michael’s pencil she didn’t stop to take the
time. Little tears were starting to spring out of the sides of his
eyes and she could see his bottom lip start to tremble. She couldn’t
bear to see him cry. That wasn’t her intention! She wanted to make
them all happy, not sad.
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