When I first heard that Buddy Ebsen had written a romance novel, my first thought was, "How can Jed Clampett know anything about romance?" After several conversations with "Uncle Jed", I soon found out that this man, with over 75 years of show biz experience, probably knows more about romance than men a fraction of his age. His romantic side, combined with those years of being in the spotlight, make his new book, "Kelley's Quest" well worth reading.
This story, set behind the scenes in Hollywood, is based on his observations of a young woman working in a traditionaly male occupation at a Hollywood studio. As is the case so many times, women in a man's world are looked upon as objects, and when one of the stars of the film she's working on decides she is fair game, she reacts the only way she knows how. She decks him with a punch that would have made Evander Holyfield proud. Predictibly, she loses her job, and thus begins Kelly's Quest to find her knight in shining armor.
One of the great lessons of this story is found in the fact that Kelly Ryan has values which she is never willing to compromise. Even when society tries to sway her from them, those values hold true, until eventually she is faced with her destiny, in the unlikely form of a Montana rancher. The events that lead her to him and their growing love for each other make for an excellent story, with enough action and romance to satisfy even the most particular romance fan.
I think as you read the excerpt below, you'll discover that Buddy Ebsen has added one more title to his impressive list of accomplishments, that of author.
Chapter One
Kelly watched them doing it on the bed. There were brief flashes of nakedness from beneath the cover, and panting, moaning sounds from the girl's parted lips. Occasionally they rolled over, spilling the sheet and revealing a full view of bare buttock. Then he was on top, more active. The girl's breath now heightened into accelerated gasps, crescendoed into a wild little cry of ecstasy. There was a pause followed by diminishing convulsions, a relaxed creeping smile and stillness.
"Cut and print."
Two "all clear" rings from sound.
The director, pudgy, bald pated, stubble bearded, wiped his fogged glasses as he and his camera operator straightened up from their kneeling position, bedside. Their proximity to the subject had compressed the focus range of the hand-held camera to its close-up limits.
"That's lunch! One hour for the cast, half hour for the crew!"
The A.D.'s announcement galvanized the set. Work lights popped on. Scene lights popped off as sound level on stage jumped with the general resumption of conversation and happy migration toward the door.
Kelly stood for a moment. She had watched the scene with the rest of the crew -- he new ones, glassy eyed, drooling, the old hands yawning.
Copulation, she noted, even simulated, still packs substantial viewer appeal.
Kelly posed herself a question. Would she ever take her clothes off in public like that, and simulate this ultimately personal and properly private act of physical intimacy -- for money?
Not on your cotton-picking life she told herself as the subliminal flash from her catechism hit her subconscious readout screen.
"As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion."
"Where the **** is my bathrobe?" Superstar hunk, Brooks Rutherford's voice challenged the set.
Three assistants jumped. "Wardrobe! Where the hell is wardrobe?"
"Mister Rutherford's bathrobe! On the double!"
"Your car is waiting, Mister Rutherford."
"Your lunch is ready in your motor home, Mister Rutherford."
By the time Mister Rutherford's bathrobe arrived, his simulated sex partner had already slipped into hers and quietly departed.
While Rutherford donned his robe, Kelly noticed him consciously favoring the new script girl with a flash of his considerable physical endowments, enjoying her blush. There was no doubt that he "owned" the set, was aware of it, and let you know he was aware of it.
They were almost to the door when it happened.
Had Kelly followed the crowd, gone directly to lunch without volunteering to help her brother move some lamps, it would never have happened.
Bending over to unplug a cable just as this top-level trio sauntered by, Kelly's well-formed jeans-filling derriere became their focal point.
As they passed, the super star, with a smirk and a wink to his companions, dragged his hand lightly, caressingly, across Kelly's tempting bottom. They snickered.
Having played touch football with her brothers and their friends as far back as she could remember, when tackled by some fresh new kid and touch went to feel, it triggered instant response from Kelly, long remembered by previous recipients. Automatic, swinging from the floor, Kelly Ryan's leather gloved fist caught Rutherford full on the mouth, knocking him off balance and backward into the arms of his producer.
The book is available only at Buddy Ebsen's site. To get there, click on the book cover above. I hope you will read this book. It is an enjoyable book that poses some moral questions that remains a good read that is entertaining.
