Excerpt & Giveaway: Drama Queens with Love Scenes by Kevin Klehr
Drama Queens with Love Scenes by Kevin Klehr Buy Links For more Info on Kevin Klehr check out his website
Close friends Allan and Warwick are dead. They’re not crazy about the idea so to help them deal with this dilemma are Samantha, a blond bombshell from the 1950s, and Guy, an insecure angel.
They are soon drawn into the world of theatre – Afterlife style, with all the bitchiness, back-stabbing and ego usually associated with the mortal world.
Allan also has a secret. He has a romantic crush on his friend, Warwick, but shortly after confiding in his new angel pal, his love interest falls for the cock-sure playwright, Pedro.
Not only does Allan have to win the heart of his companion, he also has to grapple with the faded memory of how he actually died.
The music had become upbeat since we entered. Nellie gently swung her
hips while one hand snapped in rhythm to the beatnik-like tune. The
drummer and the guitarist played it hip in dark sunglasses, as if posing
for a fashion shoot. The spiky haired bass player soulfully strummed
his instrument like it was an extension of himself. I wanted to be his
groupie ready to take on his deep throbbing melody.
Around us, groovy patrons found their swing. With arms waving and bodies gyrating, they crowded the floor.
“Is this jazz feel too cool for you, Guy?” I asked.
propped his chin on both hands, staring at us through blurry eyes and
gesturing more gracelessly as the orange liqueur took hold.
“In this state,” he mumbled without moving his jaw, “I could even listen to Barry Manilow.”
He downed his drink as if it was water waiting for a marathon runner.
“Come on guys,” I said. “There’s a party in full swing. Why aren’t we dancing?”
shuffled my feet into the crowd, holding hands with my drinking
companions. We oozed into the jumbled rhythmic pulse of the bodies
twisting and spinning around us. There was no Warwick or Pedro here to
make me sad, just a group of friendly strangers sharing the beat.
created his own tempo as his hands clapped out of synch. Even his wings
got into the act, making him look like a seagull caught in a fishing
net. Maudi’s upper half gyrated back and forth, yet still poised like
the cultivated lass she was.
I danced with them but somehow in
my own space, wanting to shed my skin and take the joy of this party
home with me, albeit with just the bass player. The primal pulse of his
talents would inject the same life into me as he was to his instrument.
We’d come alive, sweaty, breathless, ecstatic!
said Maudi. She leaned over to my ear like Mata Hari about to share a
“That bass player is sober. You are drunk.”
“So if you approach him you’ll look like a sleazy rogue.”
“How did you know I was interested in him?”
“Sweetheart, nobody here can miss your unsavory curiosity. You’re slobbering over him like he’s a juicy peach.”
“And how I’d love to nibble on that peach. And that banana as well.”
“Dear, take the matter in your own hand. No one will get hurt.”
“What about friction rash?”
shook her head. As she pulled away, Guy gazed at me, clawing his hand
and purring like a tiger. Was he sending me up or saying he was horny as
well? I considered it. My sex life was on life support, but would I go
to hell for sleeping with an angel?
From that moment on, the rest
of the soirée was a bit of a blur. I recall being chatted up by a sexy
bald headed gent in a white safari suit, or at least I’d like to think
he was chatting me up. Guy danced on one of the tables to a jazz version
of “Shaft.” Hearing Nellie croon “Shaft” was equally bizarre. A dreamy
guy was sung “Happy Birthday” while blowing out candles on a cake. Some
poor elder tripped backward onto the cake. I think a group of girls
helped him scrape the baked delights from his shirt, but they seemed a
little anorexic so perhaps they were just hungry. I believe a man was
dancing in white boxers, or maybe he was a stripper?
“Here, try this.”
my head was filled with delightfully twisted fantasies of me and the
bass player, the birthday boy sidled up and shoved his finger in my
mouth. Rich gooey white chocolate melted down my throat.
“Is that the sample pack?”
“If you play your cards right. Besides, I have a mad desire to show off my birthday suit.”
“Do I get to blow out the candle?”
grabbed the back of my head and pulled my mouth to his moist lips. Our
tongues swam, locking us to each other. An addiction I didn’t want to
break. I could hear the bass urging me to take this man home. Its sensual strum wouldn’t lead me astray. But this man would, with all the right moves.
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