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It's so early on a Saturday morning, the birds aren't even up yet, much less the sun. But already cars, SUVs and pickups are lining a few select streets, their sleepy passengers sipping coffee and clutching the circled classifieds. They are the "junkers" or "pickers" waiting for the houses having estate sales to open their doors.
Atlanta writer Kathy Trocheck normally would be among them, on the lookout for kitchenware from the '40s or maybe a kid's watering can or a sand pail. But on a recent Saturday, she's setting up a seller's booth at one of Atlanta's largest antiques markets. Out come the silver candlesticks that she drapes with Spanish moss sent by a friend from the Georgia coast. Out come the silver trays _ one for the slices of homemade pound cake, another for the cheese straws.
And, finally, out come her wares. Not something old but something brand-new: ``Savannah Blues'' (HarperCollins, $24.95 404 pages), which its colorful cover declares "a novel of divorce, revenge and great antiques" and which a pre-publication review in Publishers Weekly hails as a "delightfully breezy, richly atmospheric debut" by Mary Kay Andrews.
Wait a minute. Who is this Mary Kay Andrews? And why is Trocheck going to such lengths to hawk Andrews' ``Savannah Blues'' when she could be searching for …