With final exams looming for my youngest, my household is all about D-Day thesis paper presentations, Langston Hughes, and Spanish oral exams.

So, for today, I am cheating and giving you a bit of a sneak peek into my latest release, Perfectly Plum, a collection of essays about Janet Evanovich’s wildly popular Stephanie Plum series. Lucky me, I got to write about Ranger. Here are the opening few pages for your morning enjoyment…

A Little Less Conversation: A Babe’s View
(Or Why I’m a Whumpa Whumpa Girl…and Stephanie is, too.)

“Babe,” he says.
Until Twelve Sharp, that pretty much summed up Ranger’s entire vocabulary. And even though he got a bit chattier there for a moment, that one word, uttered as only Ranger can utter it and Stephanie still wants to immediately get naked. In fact, he can have that affect with no language at all. Just a look will do. Hell, just standing there, breathing, really.

I don’t even know the guy, and I want to get naked. Not while Stephanie is naked with him, of course. I mean, I admire the hell out of her spunk, her determination, her bravery, not to mention her willingness to risk the ultimate act of sacrifice every time she gets behind the wheel of a car, any car. But I don’t want to get naked with her. I’m assuming the feeling would be mutual. After all, if Stephanie gets cold at night, she has Joe Morelli. And Bob the dog, for that matter. If I were her, I’d choose the dog over me. And not just because that leaves more naked Ranger for me. Okay, mostly that’s exactly what that means. But I’d go to greater lengths than pawning off a smelly dog to secure my naked future with that man.

Ah, that man. That elusive, shrouded in mystery and black cammies Ranger. Just Ranger. One name. Okay, so we know his whole name now. Ricardo Carlos Manoso. But no one is going call this guy Little Ricky anytime soon. He’ll always be just Ranger to us. That’s all we need. And when I say we, I mean the hoards of women who would leave their husbands, (boyfriends, significant others, country of origin, planet earth…) tonight if they thought it would buy them five minutes of naked time with Ranger in his highly secure, seriously decadent penthouse suite. Or the heated seats of his black Mercedes sedan. Or up against the nearest fence post.

What is it about this mostly monosyllabic male that makes our pulse pick up, our heart go pitty-pat…or whumpa whumpa, as the case may be? I’m a whumpa whumpa girl myself. In fact, Stephanie and I share that particular heart condition. Stephanie might be hard up for a car that remains in one piece, not to mention decent insurance rates, but she’s not hard up for a man in her life. Ranger and Joe both want Stephanie. And, because she’s not dead, blind, or stupid—although Joe might occasionally argue about the latter—Stephanie wants both of them right back.

The thing is, she’s had them both. She’s even lived with them both, (the wench,) at one point simultaneously, in her own apartment. And she’s still torn.

In her defense, it would be a tough spot to find yourself in. (Not that I would know personally, but a girl can dream.) In my vivid and highly detailed imagination, I think about what it would be like to have, say, both Matthew McConaughy and Clive Owen pursuing me. Naturally, both would take me to bed and want to keep me there. And, being alpha males, they wouldn’t take kindly to me dragging out my decision by continuing my liaisons with both of them. Like Stephanie, I’d eventually be forced to make The Choice. What to do? Or, more to the point, who to do? It’s a decision I know I’d be struggling with it. Okay, maybe struggle isn’t the word. Ponder deliciously over a prolonged period of time and deep, up close and personal evaluation. But I could pretend to struggle. Especially if Clive was holding me down and taking his sweet time while doing the most incredible things to me with his—um, sorry, I digress.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Stephanie’s Choice. Not tragic, like, say, Sophie’s, but a major dilemma in the World of Plum. Stephanie isn’t the only one struggling with this problem. We readers struggle with her choice, too. (Like we have nothing better to worry about. Like we all wouldn’t like to have that problem.) I mean, I could do without homicidal boxers stalking me, mysterious bookies taking up sudden residence in my apartment, or having to ever apprehend a naked man coated in butter. But having to make The Choice? That I could stand. And I’m far from alone. Stephanie’s Choice has led to the birth of The Debate. A sometimes heated, often animated global discourse held on internet bulletin boards, in myriad chatrooms, analyzed in blogs, via cell phones, through reams of text messages, and probably smoke signals somewhere, the discussion continues unabated.

Joe vs Ranger. Who should Stephanie choose?

***********************************

Hope you enjoyed your sneak peek! Tune in tomorrow for the next SHaQ Attack contest!

Tags: Writing //