Enjoy this new teaser for Michael Ampersant's new book (from Chapter 30, "The Knight of Malta"):
A silhouette rises from the front row of the smaller bleacher, tiptoes high-heeled past the jury pen, tosses her hair, and scales the steps to the dais. Up there she raises one leisurely arm and points at random individuals in the audience, gleeful smirks of recognition on her face. And now she has recognized the lazy-yet-renowned A-squirrel in our midst and blows kisses and the mayor makes me stand up again. Barbette Bienpensant—not your typical John Lee fan you’d say—casts a deferential regard.
(Yes, apologies, the teaser gifs ain't really pole dancing, bear with us)
The audience, needless to say, has been asked to give a warm hand to the incomparable Jane—didn’t we mention this before?—there’s something of Magic Mike about the whole scene (movie: Channing Tatum: male strippers) and Alex, a few tallboys down the road, will suggest we’d do a Channing Tatum stage-wise during the next interlude.
Greta takes Jane’s hand. “Sister,” Greta opens the conversation. Jane giggles and replies with a kiss.
“We sisters met at the Lupo di Mare, the auberge of Italianate style nestled squarely near the central traffic circle of this charming seaside town—Jane—wasn’t it.”
“Yeahh,” Jane breezes.
“You were in need of something stiff and strong that evening.”
Jane giggles, then confronts the mike: “Every evening.”
“And so, you dialed the magic number, the cell phone connection of this young gentleman here who is with us tonight”—Greta points at me again—“having acceded to his rightful place on the jury of this important event.”
“His name is John,” Jane breathes as if she didn’t listen to Greta’s introduction.
“John is the innovative founder and CEO of Georgia Beaches’ foremost A-level service, Jane, isn’t he?”
“Could you explain what the A-level does?”
“Oohh, A-level is like wonderful, exciting, awesome. Yeahh?”
“You had a chance to taste his levels already?”
“But John wasn’t available on Sunday night.”
“Yeahh—I mean nooh.”
“But John lived up to his inspiring standards and found somebody else on his list.”
“Also named John.”
“Could you describe the proud moment of our first encounter with the new John—or, as his pet name goes—with Ben.”
In the meantime, the blue stage backdrop has transmogrified into a body shot of John/Ben Fletcher—a picture that looks like one of the snaps taken by Alex on Sunday night and then photo-shopped surreptitiously; Greta points at it.
“Would you mind sharing with us what happened next?”
“Yeahh, I mean, noooh.” She giggles and touches Greta’s mike. “He liked my Audi A8, you knoow?”
“He was a darling, Yeahh.”
“Could you explain to the audience…?
“That’s impossible, Yeahh.”
(The audience kicking in, taking up on Jane’s ‘Yeahh,’ ‘Yeahh.’)
“Ben took us by surprise, didn’t he?”
“I liked his wild thing. Yeahh. Inspiring.”
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