Excellent.

Advertising? Hmmm. After the club deal:

Workin' It

There's a gaggle of lovelies, cheekbones carefully accentuated, lips outlined, eyes hungry.

Their bags are oversized; mostly, there are little telltale initials locked together, Gucci, Louis Vuitton. A few of the girls carry the black fabric bag with the coveted Prada triangle on it. Higher status, maybe.

They're out on the dance floor, swaying together, labeled with the lords of couture, drunk and yearning for someone to take them home, sweep them away, screw them blind, change their world.

Juicy and ripe, hard-edged and focused. Versace, Prada, Chanel: For Sale.

Everyone knows exactly what they're selling. And that includes them.

Oh, excellent, Deb. I can see that so clearly.

It was seriously trippy, Sail. Before the place filled to the rafters, ita cruised the place for me, and came back with the estimate that there was something like 20 women to every male in the place. A little later, about 80% of the women were out on the dance floor, and there wasn't a single male out there with them; they were watching from the side, like lions.

This is going to be a seriously interesting book to write. In the meanwhile, though? Back to beloved JP and Bree.

edit: and I'll probably use a chunk of that drabble in Yo Mama Don't Dance.

I will never understand the mindset of the club scene. If you really like the music, that's one thing, but to put yourself out there for the meat market . . . Which is probably why I didn't date until college.

I never clubbed in my life - the dressing room at Fillmore is a totally different reality - so I don't really understand the why, either. Not judging it, and it's fascinating to me. But I need to get some handle on it, if I'm going to do these books any justice.

Of course, I've never dated, either, so it's probably just as well I don't try to write that.

Agent told me she had an immediate visual for Patrick Ormand, the Kinkaid detective, in her head, and tracked it down.

Change the hairline, and she's got a good eye.

Oh, that's not my Patrick.

I haven't actually cast him in my mind, but that's not how I think he looks.

See? This is why books are better than movies--you get to make up the characters' appearances yourself!

Bev, what does your Patrick look like? I like Kate's take on him, but I see him as very lean. Kate says this guy is, basically, but he looks a bit chunkier because he's squatting.

I love hearing how readers see a character. I mean, I know precisely what JP looks like in my head - he's a real-life meld of Nice Piano and Nice Piano's Best Buddy John C - and Bree is pretty clear, as well. But the immediate take on Patrick is that he looks guarded, somehow.

Bev, what does your Patrick look like?

Not Bev, but my Patrick looks kind of like John Constantine - comic, obviously. Not Keanu. Specifically, Constantine as we meet him in Sandman's Preludes & Nocturnes. Can't find a good scan of it, though.

I had an immediate flash of recognition to Kate's Patrick -- he's a little better looking in my head, and he doesn't have such a prominent widow's peak, but I was like, Oh, yeah, there he is.