Kevin lives with his long-term partner in their humble apartment (affectionately named Sabrina), in Australia’s own ‘Emerald City,’ Sydney.
From an early age Kevin had a passion for writing, jotting down stories and plays until it came time to confront puberty. After dealing with pimple creams and facial hair, Kevin didn’t pick up a pen again until he was in his thirties. His handwritten manuscript was being committed to paper when his social circumstances changed, giving him no time to write. Concerned, his partner, Warren, snuck the notebook out to a friend who in turn came back and demanded Kevin finish his novel.
It wasn’t long before Kevin’s active imagination was let loose again.
His longest running passion is a weekly radio program he produces with Warren for local Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander station, Koori Radio. Since 2004 they have been discovering music, both new and old, and interviewing local artists and community leaders. Every Friday night, is heard across Sydney and via the world wide web.
Kevin will be giving away a $30 Amazon gift card to one randomly chosen commenter.
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.
“Guy, there are lovers out to get me,” I said.
“What? You think Warwick and Pedro are out to get you? Pedro, maybe, but not Warwick.”
My angelic friend strolled with me to the theater about an hour before opening night.
“No, hear me out. It came out in my tarot reading with Monique. That falling stage light was no accident.”
“Apparently there are ‘lovers’ who were responsible.”
Guy gave me a puzzled look.
“Are you sure you understood what Monique showed you?”
“Pretty damn sure. She was fairly direct. There are lovers who were responsible for the falling light.”
My heavenly chum stopped in his tracks. I almost bumped into him.
“Allan, the only lovers cast in this play are Pedro and Warwick. The light fell while Pedro was on stage. He wouldn’t put himself in harm’s way if he was responsible.”
“Perhaps he knew exactly where to stand when it fell?”
“But if it was loosened, how would he know exactly when it would fall? He may have been walking directly under it when it came crashing to the ground. In fact, anyone of us could have been under it. You can’t orchestrate something like that.”
He had a point. As the eccentric locals weaved around us, Guy stood stroking his chin.
“It’s official. I’m neurotic.”
“A little around the edges, maybe, but you’re not a raving lunatic yet, Allan.”