Welcome to Grand Prairie, Louisiana--land of confounding accents, hard-drinking senior citizens, and charming sinners--brought to hilarious life in a bracing, heartfelt debut novel simmering with Cajun spice. . .

Father Steve Sibille has come home to the bayou to take charge of St. Pete's church. Among his challenges are teenybopper altar girls, insomnia-curing confessions, and alarmingly alluring congregant Vicky Carrier. Then there's Miss Rita, an irrepressible centenarian with a taste for whiskey, cracklins, and sticking her nose in other people's business.

When an outsider threatens to poach Father Steve's flock, Miss Rita suggests he fight back by staging an event that will keep St. Pete's parishioners loyal forever. As The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival draws near, help comes from the strangest places. And while the road to the festival may be paved with good intentions--not to mention bake sales, an elephant, and the most bizarre cook-out ever--where it will lead is anyone's guess. . .

Fifty-year old Katherine Lafleur is woken from sleep one wintry morning in Brooklyn, New York, by a phone call telling her that her younger sister Karen-Anne has died after being trampled by a run-away rhinoceros. So after years of avoiding her home state of Louisiana, Katherine finds herself journeying back to a place where she's only known as Katie-Lee and she's constantly at odds with her older sister Kendra-Sue.
The physical distance may only be 1,500 miles, but the emotional and psychic distances is light years away from her life in New York, where she communicates more with text and social media than through actual conversation. In Louisiana, however, she finds a hurricane of family members. Sisters and brother, their kids and kids' kids. Not to mention the distant relations that threaten to turn the funeral services into a circus of epic hilarity rather than a somber affair. Tensions slowly build throughout the comedy, but only when Katie-Lee spots her high school sweetheart lurking around the outskirts of the graveyard do we finally learn what drove her away from home all those years ago--and just how tight the Lafleur family bond really is.

In the halls of Congress, on the streets, in the media, the war on fast food is on. Tofu may be topical, but bacon is eternal.   Bacon and Egg Man, Ken Wheaton’s second novel, is a sly send-up of a politically correct food establishment, where the Northeast has split off from the rest of the United States. The new Federation is ruled by the electoral descendants of King Mike, a man who made it his mission to form a country based on good, clean living.   But you can’t keep good food down. And Wes Montgomery, a journalist at the last print paper in the Federation, is a mild-mannered bacon-and-egg dealer on the side. Until he gets pinched and finds himself thrust into Chief Detective Blunt’s wild-eyed plot to bring down the biggest illegal food supplier in the land. To make matters worse, Wes is partnered with Detective Hillary Halstead, the cop who, while undercover, became his girlfriend.  Their journey takes them from submarine lairs to sushi speakeasies, from Montauk to Manhattan, where they have to negotiate with media magnate the Gawker before a climactic rendezvous with the secretive man who supplies the Northeast with its high-cholesterol contraband, the most eternal of all breakfast foods: bacon and eggs.