CatsLady, Jeanette, And Terry,
You three have won a set of note cards, please email me your addresses at, firstname.lastname@example.org.
Thanks for posting!
Crime Scene Christie
Contest…Contest: Do you know the name of the plumber?
Wait, after last week’s blog about the unnamed husband’s plumbing disaster, you might think there’s been more calamity going on here at the Craig house. But nope. Well, I take that back. There is always some kind of fiasco going on here.
Just this morning, my son forgot to tell me that he’d let his pet rats loose in his bathroom... “to stretch their legs,” he says. Like rats really need to have their legs stretched. Anyway, I opened the bathroom door to check out unnamed hubby’s caulking handiwork, and the Craig cat clan accidentally slipped into the bathroom.
A bit later, Son finds bathroom door open and all four cats hanging around the john with no sign of the pet rats. The Craig household goes on emergency-mode looking for the pet rodents. (Even the cats seem to get into it. Although, I’m worried they might know exactly where the rats are.) Anyway, it’s sort of like an Easter egg hunt but with live eggs…eggs with beady eyes, and a long bald tails. Okay, you might guess that I’ve never been a rat fan, so I’m not actually crying, or even participating too much in the hunt.
Ten minutes later, I’m with an upset son who is one rat shy of a pair. Then, upset son notices that one of our felines is looking contentedly lazy, licking her whiskers like she’d just devoured a full meal . . . sort of a feline-after-thanksgiving look.
Immediately, Son starts looking at me like I’m a rat killer. I start feeling like crap, not because I opened the door,(hey, he should have told me) but because, down deep, I’m secretly happy at the rat’s demise. Anyway, guilt-ridden, I went into full find-rat mode. I discover the missing rodent trying to become one with the toilet plunger in the bathroom. Smart rat, I mean, who would eat anything that had that kind of a relationship with a toilet plunger? Definitely, not one of my felines who are accustomed to their Fancy Feast served in their crystal bowls, mind you.
So, back to the plumber question and the contest. I’m not talking about just any plumber. I want the name of the plumber in my book, Divorced, Desperate and Delicious. Remember Lacy’s friend Kathy who stated the plumber was looking at her as if… “He wanted to clean out her pipes?” Yup, that plumber.
Now, here’s the reason for the question. You see, I’ve gotten numerous emails, wanting to know if I was going to write Jason and Sue’s story and if I was going to write Kathy’s and . . . “the plumber’s” story. My readers remember Jason’s name, they even remember the dog’s name…(Of course, Fabio is sort of memorable) but the plumber is shafted.
As it works out, I’m about to start working on his and Kathy’s story, and every time I picture Nameless Plumber in my mind, he’s standing there, arms crossed over his very nice looking chest, (imagine nice biceps muscles, a flat abdomen slightly rippled with muscles) but . . . he's looking at me like . . . much like my son did when he called me a rat killer. Then, because I always attempt to talk to my characters, I asked him what his problem was. Nameless Plumber says, “My problem? I’ll tell you my problem! You made me, and not only did you give me a crappy job of being a plumber, but you must have done a terrible job of creating me, because no one even remembers my name.“
Anyway, I’m trying to make it up to the poor, nice-looking fellow by running a contest. (I also promised him that I’d make sure he had some really hot sex in the book.) I’m giving away a pack of special note cards—not just any note cards, but cards with photographs taken by yours truly that showcase some of the Craig household pets—to the first person who can tell me the plumber’s name. Then I’ll do another drawing on Wednesday of anyone who posts a comment, and give a second set of cards away. So, go ahead, make the plumber’s and my day, and find me that plumbers name and post some comments.
Crime Scene Christie . . . who while doesn’t like rodents, is not a rat killer.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Posted by Christie Craig at 9:09 AM