Tagged Again

You know how when you put attention onto something, it happens? Like if you think about a person, suddenly they call you? Well, a few days ago I was (happily) thinking how I hadn't been tagged in forever. But then last week Susan Shay tagged me.

Sigh.

But that's okay—I can play along.

Sigh.

Anyway, the challenge: summarize yourself in six words. There were all kinds of rules too, but I say Pshaw! to rules, especially the one about tagging five other unsuspecting people. Instead, if you want to join in the fun, you can list your six words in a comment.

Surprisingly, this was hard. But it was also a good exercise because I realized there were words I wanted to use to describe myself that I couldn't use without making some changes.

It also made me wonder how the heroine in the book I'm currently working on would describe herself. Interesting thought, isn't it? I may try it. I bet the words she'd use at the beginning of the book will be different than the way she'd describe herself at the end.

Perry. Kate Perry.

Have you ever wondered what you'd do if a man knocked on your door and handed you a briefcase filled with a million dollars? I've been pondering this question for the past couple days, and my first thought was I'd invest it.

Well, actually, my first thought was who is this man, and why is he giving me so much money? Then I thought where did this money come from, and will someone want it back? But after that, my thoughts turned toward investing it. Or maybe opening a Swiss bank account.

I've wanted a Swiss bank account since I was a little girl. I can see myself—dressed just so in a little Chanel suit, white gloves, and a big hat—sashaying into an unmarked building where a discreet man greets me with a glass of Cristal and ushers me into a lavish room where I wait in comfort while they attend to my business. I also have a knife strapped to my thigh—one custom-made for my grip. Why? Shrug. I wanted one. Besides, a gun seemed too bulky.

Maybe I watched too many Bond movies growing up.

Bah Humbug

I cuddled up to Nate, who lounged on the couch watching the Pro Bowl on TV. "Love, what would you like for Valentine's Day?"

He brushed my hair back from my face and felt my forehead. "Are you still feeling sick?"

"No." I frowned. "Why?"

"We don't do Valentine's Day. Ever. Remember?"

"Yeah, but I thought we could switch things up this year." I held his disbelieving gaze for five seconds before I broke down. "Okay, fine. I'm a romance writer. I'm supposed to advocate hearts and candy and shit. How does it look that every year I ignore it? I can't be known as a love scrooge."

Nate grinned. "That is pretty terrible, love."

"Are you going to get me something?"

"Do you want something?" he asked in his reverse-psychology way.

"Not chocolate. Unless it's truffles from Diego and he got it from his mom who brought them from Belgium. And no flowers." I wrinkled my nose. "Flowers die. You wouldn't want to represent everlasting love with something that's going to shrivel and go black."

"Got it. No flowers or chocolate."

"Unless it's the truffles Diego's mom brings from Belgium," I corrected.

"Right."

I think he rolled his eyes, but I chose to ignore that. "And no diamonds."

"But diamonds are forever."

I would have been more impressed by his statement if a De Beers commercial wasn't playing on TV right at that moment. "They may be forever, but I'd look so much better in a Ferrari."

Pushy, But Cute

I was sick all last week. The kind of sick where I couldn't move my fever-ridden carcass off the couch for five days. The kind of sick where, when I answered my phone, the person on the other end immediately exclaimed, "You sound terrible."

The thing about being sick that long: you get used to people being at your beck and call. For instance, the second you need Gatorade, someone runs out to fetch some for you. Need a movie put into the DVD player? Whimper a little and someone will run to accommodate. It can go to your head a little. Next thing you know, you're starting to dispense commands over your blog.

No, I'm not going to ask you to buy Gatorade. But I am going to remind you to vote. It's your privilege. Do it.

I'm also going to ask you to check out two new books from friends of mine. Killing Fear by Allison Brennan and Master of the Highlands by Veronica Wolff. Two very different stories by two very talented ladies.

And don't forget to vote. (I know—I'm unrepentantly pushy.)