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I am sad to announce that Susan Leverence (aka Huggy)
passed away. A service will be held. Details are as follows:
Date: Saturday 15th March 2008
Time: 10:15 am
Place: St Julie Church
7399 W 159th St
Tinley Park, IL
She will be fondly remembered and dearly missed by all who knew her.
Chicago Playboy Club, 1969-1978
Susan Elizabeth formerly Huggy
As a Playboy Bunny (in the Chicago Club), Susan Elizabeth (nee Huggy) was part of the Playboy Empire "inner circle". She lived, in Hugh Hefner's famous Chicago Playboy Mansion. Susan was also a Jet bunny. Her wonderful novel "Girls of the Dream Club" is a semi-fictional account of those amazing, colorful experiences. If you had the experience of living in the mansion you will have a great time guessing who is who in the book, and believe me only the names have changed!
Susan studied journalism and psychology and currently she is applying the finishing touches to her short story, "Visions" - an exciting, seductive tale that involves a Tsunami, the Mexican Riviera, and a multimedia, celebrity-filled weekend.
To purchase Susan's "Girls of the Dream Club", "Visions" or her book of poetry please visit her publisher's online store at:
Here are extracts from Susan's writing
from the poetry
The Love of Children -Vs- The Loss of A Child
This much I’ll give you,
And there are moments,
And there can be times
Those are the reasons I survive
1 of 12 poems in this collection
There are many of us that knew
Susan and counted her a very dear friend. We
Always in our hearts!
SUSAN ELIZABETH BOOK EXCERPTS
Girls of the Dream
Tonight, he decided, she would be privy to a full dose of Max Pierce, a major performance of his techniques, a thrill ride on the roller coaster of his pride and joy, a journey of the best and most forgettable kind. Sex extraordinaire with he as the master of ceremonies. When he put his mind (what there was of it) and his body, that came, (let us pardon the pun) in large proportions and with great gusto to it’s maximum, it was, bar none, the best, longest-lasting and most exciting ride ever -- or so the legend lived on and prospered in his personal psyche.
Now, Claudia had her own totally different idea in mind for the evening. Glancing hungrily at Max’s finely featured face and well-built body tucked ever so neatly into his Georgio Armani tuxedo, her thoughts drifted down the corridors of her own fantasies. She could ease her pain by making Max pay for Nik's transgressions. She would provoke him, entice him, torture him beyond his own, as bizarre as they might previously have been, dreams.
Eyes burned deeply into the others as each recognized familiar traits in their opponent. Max made the first move, leaning across Claudia’s chair, closing in on her personal space and whispering a trivial secret in her ear, allowing him to blow a light, male-scented breath across her cheek. He felt he had scored a point and smiled.
Claudia smiled directly into his smoldering eyes, letting him know she was no stranger to this game. She had honed the art of seduction until it was a razor sharp weapon at her control. A smooth, sweet, soft laughter slid gently from her sensual lips, one that was meant only for his ears. She placed her hand lightly, intimately on his thigh, the warm sensual pads of her long fingers stroking him, moving upward slowly, ever so slowly, taking her own time as she sought for the area that already stirred, already tried to reach out to her, already pulsing in its need to be touched.
Max’s body responded unwillingly to her caress. Embarrassed by its uncontrollable and noticeable bulge, he found himself pulling back slightly, damning his penis for betraying him and making him loose ground too early in the game. He began to wonder if he was in too deep, if he had found in Claudia not a conquest but a conqueror.
Ahhh, Claudia thought, enjoying herself to the max with Max. It was great to be young and beautiful and successful and powerful! Tonight would be a fun night. A wonderfully fun night.
In all her years of channeling the dead, Maggie had never lost control like this. She was without power over the stronger spirit of the young girl who had taken over her body. Maggie fought for control, but her mouth could not stop the voice as it called out across the studio audience to her parents.
“Daddy, please. I miss you so much. Come find me and take me home. Please, daddy. Help me. I’m cold and I hurt. He hurt me so bad.”
“Stop it. Stop it!” the father shouted. “How can you do this? Why are you doing this?”
“You’re supposed to help us find Christa!” the mother cried out, her red face wet with tears.
The stage was eerily silent, the audience stunned. Allen was frozen in shock. Susie smelled trouble. The audience waited for Maggie to say something…to change the story…to make it right. But Maggie had lost the power to do that. She was helpless in the grip of the spirit that controlled her. She tried to stop it from going farther, but she could not. Her heart ached for the parents. She wanted the girl to be quiet, to tell her and only her what happened, but her voice went on:
“He hurt me, daddy. He killed me. Killed me dead. I’m in the ground all alone and cold. Find me, daddy. Bring me home!”
Christa’s mother fainted. The father cradled her in his arms.
“Please,” he sobbed. “I beg of you. Stop talking in Christa’s voice. Stop looking like her!”
Maggie fought to control the voice with her final reserve of mental and spiritual strength. ‘Don’t you see how you are hurting them, darlin’? I’m sure yea don’t want that.’
Blood flowed from her lips as she bit them, trying to stop her mouth from opening, the mouth that had become Christas’. Her muscles tightened as she summoned the last remnants of her will, but the girl’s will was stronger:
“Daddy, please help me. Come and get me. Get him too! Find me daddy. Make him hurt daddy. Make him hurt like he made me hurt! Get him daddy. Get him good! Get him now! He’s right over there!”
Maggie’s arm twitched as it slowly rose, a finger outstretched, pointing to a man in the back row.