I’m over at The Whine Sisters today blogging about the fact that a new car is in my future (or, really, my husband’s future, as I’ll get stuck with the minivan). We’ll probably end up with something like a Honda Fit.
What I really want is the car Damien Stark, the hero from my upcoming novel, Release Me, drives:
I don’t know much about cars, but I can tell this one is sweet. It’s cherry red and polished to a mirror shine. The windows are tinted as dark as a limo. It’s so low to the ground that I’m afraid my ass will get bruised if we hit a pothole. It’s sleek and beautiful and definitely the kind of toy I’d expect a billionaire to own.
“What?” he says, seeing my smile.
“You’re predictable, that’s all.”
His brows lift. “Am I?”
“What is this, some kind of fancy Ferrari? I mean, what billionaire doesn’t own a Ferrari?”
“Ah, it’s much worse than that,” he says. “This is a Bugatti Veyron. It costs about twice as much as a Ferrari. Nine hundred eighty-seven horsepower, a W16 engine, top speed of two hundred fifty-three, and she’ll go from zero to sixty in under three seconds.”
I force myself to look unimpressed. “In other words, you don’t own a Ferrari?”
“I own three.” Before I can react, he grins and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Watch your head getting in. She’s low to the ground.”
Have I mentioned I just love Damien? Not to mention his cars.
Alas, the Bugatti is only in my imagination. I have a feeling it’s going to be a Honda in the driveway.
What’s the car of your dreams?
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