September the 14th sees the launch of my new book "A Kipper at Midnight" and a new character Matthew Kipper. Hipper is a louche TV chef, PR and amateur detective, who in the first book attends a country house weekend, Where Lady Cynthia Bryce-Howard is mounting her yearly festival of privileged debauchery. Matthew Kipper is not me, and not is not necessarily a hero. He has many objections attitudes, most of which stem from an unfounded belief in his own abilities and his philosophy that he is superior to everyone around him. As with most comic charachters of this type, the rug is pulled from under him at almost every conceivable moment, and he is revealed for what he is....a pompous ass.
Here is an excerpt from one of the climactic chapters, featuring the "perversion ball." which is the highlight of the good Lady's weekend. There is adult humour here, but it is relatively mild.
"Cometh the hour, cometh the man, and yet Matthew felt a sudden urge to blend into the background, to the extent that his suit of armour would allow him to.
The great house was lit up with lanterns and candles in a way that gave it a fairy tale glow and the long drive was lined with flaming torches.
Despite its outré nature, the ball was something of an event for the entire village. One wing of the house was made relatively safe for those of a nervous disposition with a clearly marked “zero debauchery” zone so that the best local cooks could work their magic and this is where a forty-foot buffet was arranged. Tasteful robes were provided at the door in order to cover the more extreme costumes, with their various flaps, windows and protuberances.
It was not unknown for international politicians to fly in for the evening, parking their private jets at the nearest airport and continuing their journey by bulletproof helicopter. A couple of the more dependable footmen were stationed next to a helipad on the lawn although guests were cautioned to bring with them any security they would need and guns were heavily discouraged. Nevertheless, this hadn’t stopped the odd head of state from descending on the reveries over the years, and one particular senior statesman has even mentioned the possibility of setting up a similar event in their own country. Thus, a special suite of bedrooms had to be cleared, swept for bugs and a waterbed provided with rubber sheets. It was even suggested that this dignitary might stay on the next day for a round of golf if they could recover the ability to walk unaided after the evening’s strenuous pursuits.
As Matthew circulated Molly Motkin was even now hovering close to the buffet, her modesty beautifully protected by a dark silk rope. This was one event where cameras and tape recorders were not allowed and she twiddled her long exquisite fingers with boredom. Nevertheless, she hoped that a debonair playboy of some sort or successful business woman would break off from their activities and come in search of a well-chilled Martini. Then she would pounce.
One year Nate Chance had brought several Hollywood “A list” actors along for the ride, but this had provoked such a large bout of counselling, aversion therapy and PR tweaking back in the US that it had never been repeated. In truth, Lady Cynthia’s annual event had for a time seemed like Davos with extra lube."
Extract from "A Kipper at Midnight" (C) 2020 Ian Powell & Magic Mask Pictures Limited
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