Chapter One The Club

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Maggie Alexandra McLean,    54 years old

Entrepreneur, Businesswoman, Philanthropist, Mother

Grew up in rural Dorset and London.

Mother died when she was 7, brought up by her maternal grandparents

Publicly educated.

Made her money in Catering, Cleaning, Restaurants, Private Chef Agency, Home Staging.

Statuesque, Rubinesque

Confident, kind, generous, down to earth, witty, intelligent, intellectual.

Adventurous spirit, loves to travel, swears on occasion. Many occasions.

Does not suffer fools gladly.

Loves to dance, fluent in Tango, Flamenco and Zumba.

One son,  A.J. 26.     Adopted when Maggie was 28.


Laurent Nicolas Bourgeois     30 years old

Guadaloupean mother, Barbadian father

Half of the insanely talented Hip Hop Royalty duo "Les Twins"

Older by 2 minutes    Twin Larry

6' 4" tall, caramel skin, lean, wirey muscular toned. Chiselled jawline and cheekbones.

Hair either in long twists or a Fro.  Tattooed sleeve on opposite arm to Larry, leather and beaded bracelets, large watch, silver rings, but always a delicate cross.

He is the emotive one when dancing, his freestyles can make you cry, his signature move is the "death drop", and he has a love affair with the floor.

Driven, perfectionist, professional, the business head of the Twins.  Funny, passionate, very expressive, especially toward his brother.

Rumours are rife about whether they are incestuous, as they are forever showing their affection toward each other physically, especially Laurent to Larry.

Has admitted at one time to being bisexual.



Chapter One

The Club

Maggie McLean was sitting at the end of the bar in the most exclusive gentleman's' club in London.  

She was surveying her Queendom.

She was leaning against the wall, talking to the bartender, a very sweet and delicious young man by the name of Marcus. She had a thing for younger men, but at her age, she was no longer bothered by that, or ashamed of her feelings.  Life was too short.

Maggie was 54, but looked ten years younger.  She had accepted, not so gracefully sometimes, the signs of age on her face and her body, and had given in to giving mother nature a helping hand here and there.  She was tall, far from slim, and far from attractive, she considered, but those who knew her, and the men that were attracted to her, would definitely tell you otherwise. She had a wild mane of pearlescent silver grey hair, which fell to the middle of her back. Her hair was her best feature, she thought.

Tonight she was dressed fairly formally, in a tailored Armani suit, with a low slit front jacket, revealing her decolletage.  She had also just come from a hospital benefit event, of which she was a co-chair.

The small room was dark and reasonably quiet, there was a group of four youngish men in a booth just inside the door, having a good laugh, enjoying their Patron, but were not bothering the few other guests sat in booths around the edge of the room.

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