Just when we (that would be me and my husband) are trying to cut DOWN on watching TV, a show catches our attention and the next thing we're doing is watching all the episodes to get caught up for the new season. So which show has done this to us now? The Client List.
I'm not a Jennifer Love Hewitt fan, but I do like Colin Egglesfield (he also has a minor part on Rizzoli & Isles – and I find it very hard to believe this guy is 40!!). Still, the show looked interesting, and it is. We finished the first 10 episodes (Lifetime ran a marathon prior to the new season) and will continue watching, since it's the commercials for the second season that caught our attention.
What's it about? Well, in a way, prostitution. The Client List is about a list of clients (all men, of course, mostly good-looking) who get sexual extras at a massage parlor.
This is the part that really bugs me. Most of these men are EYE CANDY (not that that bugs me, nosireebob – some of them are certainly drool-worthy). The fact these guys don't just pick someone up in a bar seems a little unrealistic. Now if they were all fat and hairy, I could understand paying for some extra messaging. But I digress.
Anyway, the masseuse doesn't HAVE to work on these clients, but the tips are too hard to pass up, especially for the main character (Hewitt) whose husband has left her and she needs money to keep her house. And while that story line is okay, it's the budding romance between her and her ex's brother (Egglesfield), that has drawn me in. Because that guy is just…yummy!
Of course, the writer in me sees all this oncoming conflict, too. Good stuff.
Last night I attended a free class at my local library on Photoshop. They are having a series of these classes and I thought it might be something worthwhile, since there is a chance I could still self-publish. Well, if it did anything, it showed me I don't have the patience to work that kind of software. I'd rather be writing. Money toward a cover artist would be money well spent, because it won't take away from my writing.
I never was much of an artist anyway.