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There’s no better place for the creation of false images than Hollywood with its put-ons, pretenses and poses. From lowly cub reporter to tinsel-town star, every level of the Sunset Strip society seems to play a game. The PR man creates a scandal for a studio star to get him front-page space. Hollywood gossip columnists pick up on the juiciest grapevine talk — who’s going with whom, who’s leaving whom, who’s staying with whom.
Rarely does anyone see beneath the veneer. Perhaps they’re fearful they’ll find out that the star does live the life their press releases say they live. And maybe it’s because Hollywooders are forced to live by the lies that have made them what they are.
How long can a society based upon lies continue to exist? Tinseltown’s always been that way, and it looks as if it’ll continue that way. But what about its members — the Marilyn Monroes, the Garlands? It looks as if the kingdom will always be, but only the names of its kings and queens change.
It’s within this society that Kit Kingston arrives — to be corrupted, scandalized and exploited.
THE STARLET’S SUCKING LIPS — a novel of corruption, in today’s society and the future’s.
Kit wheeled her Triumph up to the studio gates and stopped at the guard’s shack.
“Mornin’, Miss. Do you have an authorized pass?”
“Of course, of course,” Kit said, impatiently handing him the card that Reynolds had given her the night before. The card that would admit her into World Galaxy Studios, and, Kit felt sure, into a world of stardom.
She couldn’t be bothered by such trivial matters as a pass to get through the main gate. Couldn’t this guard see that she had that certain “something”, that “star quality” that set her apart from all the other pretty faces? Well, she mused, he would see it soon enough. He’d soon be showing her the respect she deserved. She’d show him, she thought, as he returned the pass and gestured her through the gates and into the studio parking lot.
Galaxy Studios. She was really here! She could hardly believe it. Everything had happened so fast at the party the night before her head was still spinning.
The party. One of those dull, Hollywood bashes that you go to because you don’t have any place better to go to that night. She didn’t even know whose house it was at, but her roommate Terri another aspiring actress, had talked her into going.
“You never know who you’ll meet,” Terri had urged.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number HP-6061 in the original publications (a duplicate).