When
womanizer, and possible schizophrenic, John Hazel, is suddenly offered a
serious job promotion by the CEO of his company, David Wall, under the
condition that John help him kill his wife, John finds himself between a rock
and a hard place when Mr. Wall's wife, Victoria Wall, asks John to do the same
for her.
John,
an office temp, photographer and university teaching assistant of philosophy,
has more than enough on his post-traumatic, hyperactive mind, without something
as absurd as this weighing down on him, not to mention that he is haunted—well,
annoyed more than anything—by either the spirits or imaginary spirits of
Giovanni Boccaccio, Francois Rabelais and a she-devil named Sabrina. Influences
such as these do not help with John's very prurient but fascinating mind, which
his psychologist tries as best as she knows how to get to the bottom of.
His
life-long existential crisis, having two hit men on his back, a bad-to-the-bone
best friend named Alex, and a manic, sex-crazed, power-hungry, confrontational
co-worker named Jackie, who happens to be Mr. Wall's mistress, certainly do not
help matters either. Life does not seem to want to let up on John. Will he make
it through this very bizarre time of tribulation, or will he end up behind bars,
stone-cold dead, or simply cracking under the weight of it all?
Excerpt
A
cross-legged kid, in front of a large TV screen, without a care in the world.
It’s how he spent most of his free time. But, right now, it’s not The Price
is Right, Happy Days, or Thunder Cats that he is watching. At
the moment, it’s a woman’s face that appears. She’s wearing bright red lipstick
that seems even brighter against her powdered white skin. The bright lights
shining off of her make it seem even whiter. What is this? he thinks to
himself. He wanted fun; he wanted craziness, life, laughter, magic—but this?
What has this to offer him? Yet he can’t look away. Normally, if something does
not catch his attention immediately, he changes the channel, meaning his
attention is just what this has.
The
music is soft, but building up. Does she hear it as well? Is she the cause of
it? He can’t take his eyes off her lips. She swallows quickly. Why isn’t she
talking? What was that stuff on her eyelids, and why did her eyelashes create
that distinct black line when closing her eyes? Why werethey closed at all? And
what was with those lips—those luscious, luscious lips?
His
eyes jolt back up to hers because now they are open and staring right at him.
He is helpless. Frozen still. They are like small pools of dark ocean water.
The goose bumps wash over him like a wave from his toes all the way up to his
head. He likes what he sees, but it’s the first time in his life that he knows
not why. She smiles at him, so warmly and inviting. His face is still. His
mouth is open. He is in a light-headed daze.
What is
this? Suddenly there are more. They are standing behind a man in a suit, who is
holding a mike that is attached to a stand. It’s Robert Palmer, who, prior to
this moment, was completely unknown to the boy. The man’s name is irrelevant,
anyway. What matters is how it’s possible that that same woman is able to
appear all those times over, standing beside herself in rows behind him. I
mean, it must be her, right? little John thinks to himself. She’s wearing
the exact same dress, has the same perfect complexion, wears the same red
lipstick and has the same hair tied back in a bun. More importantly, how did
this man, whoever he was, make all this happen, and why was he in front?
The
man’s voice takes over, and the women start swaying. It’s not the same
woman after all. They are different—each in their own way—yet look the same.
Who made them this way? Did they do it to themselves? There are five in a black
dress all of a sudden, walking towards John, or so it seems, before cutting
back to this supreme man with the mike and overpowering voice. Was it he who
made them sway and their hips gyrate in that way? Did his voice have that power
over them? It was as if they couldn’t control themselves. What was the meaning
of all this heaving and grinding on each other to this enthralling rhythm that
was as hypnotizing as the movements it caused in these mesmerizing creatures—these
dancing mannequins?
Some
even danced in the exact same way, with arms, legs and all in sync. Had they
decided to do that on their own, or had someone told them to? Either way, John
wants to be this man who is at the center of their attention and who implicitly
held so much command over them. John does not know why he wants that,
however.
Their
nylons throw him over the edge. He has to squirm around on the floor to adjust
himself because his “thing” is unmistakably hard, and he needs to give it room
to do whatever it is that it needs to do at the moment. It’s pressed too
tightly against his left thigh and it hurts. What is this hardness, anyway? It
had happened before, one time when he was in the bath and thinking of some tall
seductive blonde bombshell in leopard-print leotards, whom he had seen on Who’s
the Boss, throwing herself at Tony Danza.
There
are quick individual headshots of some of the other women. Some are looking
away, and others are giving John the same look as the first one. But why? What
does it mean? What do they want? Does it have something to do with their lips?
Somehow it must. At least that is how it feels. All their incessant writhing
and guitar-like curves are making him even harder, not to mention how perfectly
round and plump their asses are. The close-ups of the lower halves of their
bodies come with wave-like movements that begin at the bottom of their chests.
Why are they moving like that? Just what the hell is going on here, anyway?
What is all this? Whatever it is—it’s simply irresistible. But he
is only six, and does not yet understand.
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Genres
Dark Humor Drama
Heat Level: 3 Boiling
Sensual, yet more explicit love scenes, and the language may be more graphic and direct.
Sensual, yet more explicit love scenes, and the language may be more graphic and direct.
About the Author
After high
school, Rayme Michaels studied Theater Arts Performance and Radio Broadcasting
in college, and then, in his undergrad, majored in Philosophy with a minor in
Psychology. He then went on to get a Master’s Degree in Comparative Philosophy
while working as a teaching assistant. Screw the Devil’s Daiquiri is his
first full-length novel, but it is his third book, his other two being novellas
released in 2012. His first book was a quirky relationship/sex comedy entitled Incorrigibility.
His second one is a dark, gory, romantic vampire thriller called Red
Love.
He became
a bookworm at the age of eight and has been influenced by, and continues to
enjoy, a wide variety of writers that range from the solemn to the satirical,
the serious to the jovial, both in fiction and non-fiction, contemporary and
old. This invariably comes out in his writing, since his literary interests are
very broad.
As an
existential thinker, he is fascinated by the human mind and the human
predicament, yet, as a Rabelaisian human being, laughter and joy are the
reasons he gets up in the morning. Well…that and sex, of course. Oh, and his
first name is pronounced with two syllables, by the way. The “e” is not silent.
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