GUESS MY NAME. WIN $1 MILLION.
By Ann Ominous
GUESS MY NAME. WIN $1 MILLION.
By Ann Ominous
A brilliant wake-up call to all writers. Ann has invented a world where readers are no longer merely voyeurs. Instead, we're invited to become actual players in her wicked game of Kat & mouse. This savvy new genre of interactive fiction will forever change how we create and consume best sellers.
Forbes
THE mystery
A filthy-rich eccentric couple must untangle their own torrid love affair after Katherine discovers she is unexpectedly pregnant.
Katherine's glamorous position in the art world provides the perfect alibi to travel the globe, live in five-star hotels, and sip champagne with a handsome rolodex of starving artists and fat cat billionaires. And as part of her open relationship rulebook with Jon, they both have permission to indulge in whatever they want with whomever they please... except for actual sex. But just to be safe, Jon had a vasectomy years ago.
The Million Dollar Question: The child is unequivocally not Jon's, but Katherine absolutely did not cheat... How is this possible?
Reviews
"A provocative and authentic glimpse into the eccentric lives of the rich and infamous."
"You’ll either want to burn it or buy it for everyone you know."
"A bizarre breed of mind-bending mystery with the potential to inspire an entirely new genre unto itself."
"Ann has lit a match that will likely incite a wild next step in the evolution of mixed media."
"A truly novel concept that delivers a wittily written shot of adrenaline to an industry drowning in derivative reboots."
"The only thing more cunning than the concept is the ending!"
"Seriously entertaining and guaranteed to inspire book club debates, amateur sleuths, and professional treasure hunters alike."
"It reads like The Thomas Crown Affair, Unfaithful, and Cruel Intentions had a martini fueled ménage à trois to deliver the sexiest, most enthralling thing I've read in years."
"Finally... a savvy, seductive thriller written specifically for sapiosexuals!"
THE CHARACTERS
Katherine
Katherine is a jet setting, art dealing, man eating sphinx. A walking juxtaposition—Katherine aka Kat—channels the creative chaos of a Jackson Pollock masterpiece. However, she can also surprise you with the cashmere grace of a master thief—sly enough to steal that Pollock right off the wall.
As a rather famous art collector and private curator employed by obnoxiously affluent clients to find, fetch, and deliver the next Warhol or Banksy, Kat's glamorous position in the art world provides a seamless alibi to travel the globe, live in hotels, and sip champagne with a handsome rolodex of starving artists and fat cat billionaires... the perfect storm for a woman with an insatiable sexual appetite and a nasty habit of only eating martinis for dinner.
Katherine has an extraordinary eye for art, a flawless nose for trouble, a grand taste for vodka, and a tongue sharp enough to change your mind about pretty much anything. A martini fueled tornado of style and seduction, Kat was always on her toes before she ever thought about getting on her knees.
Kat often jokes she spends more time in hotels than actual call girls. The joke gets even funnier when you discover Kat is Harvard educated—and if she did charge for services rendered, her clients would need to cough up more than a Monet just to cover the first hour. Yes... Kat is that good. Even without breaking the rules she and Jon established.
Depending on who you ask, the only thing better than Kat's eye for art was her mouth. One artist even famously said he would cut off his left ear for one more night with Kat.
Jon
Jon is a dick. Liked by few. Tolerated by most.
Marine. Clean cut. Polished. Image is everything. Superficial egomaniac. Only cares about impressing the neighbors and ensuring his son is a walking cliché of American masculinity.
Essentially retired at 30, Jon no longer needs to work as he comes from old money and made plenty of new money following the IPO of his family's logistics company. Plus, Katherine makes more than enough money to support a small army herself.
Instead, Jon spends most days at the country club or aboard his fleet of floating toys, and most nights waterboarding his white-collar gang of cronies with magnums of Château Pétrus and stories about their glory days at Harvard. Jon has zero stress in life, but still can't ever seem to relax. Nowhere to be, yet shirt always tucked in. Jon is the guy that jokingly insists people call him Captain on board the boat, but is actually dead serious... Captain's hat and all.
Control freak. Loves the idea of Katherine flirting with and being lusted after by other men, but only when she returns home and tells Jon every single detail of her exotic encounters. He revels in it. And Katherine enjoys the intense passion that usually follows. It's as if Jon gets off on the fact Katherine is out in the world, taunting and teasing an array of qualified suitors, but he is the only one who can have her completely.
Jon's brain: "If a stranger doesn't want to drive your car, live in your house, or fuck your wife, you need a new one."
Despite it being his idea, Jon rarely indulges in the freedom of their open relationship himself. It's almost as if he recognized Katherine was too good for him—out of his league—and rather than face the embarrassment of her inevitably cheating on or divorcing him, Jon proactively controlled the narrative by suggesting they have an open relationship. An open relationship with a very specific set of rules he defined.
Leo
Leo is Jon's barely younger and completely opposite wild card of a brother. Oblivious to boundaries, social etiquette, and the responsibilities of being an adult in general, Leo definitively solves the nature versus nurture debate.
Leo had an uncanny ability to reach out whenever Kat was in trouble or needed someone to vent to that genuinely understood Jon's temperament. Ironically, Leo was more of a lifeline to Kat than Jon ever was.
A Renaissance man. Effortlessly authentic. Leo was truly a unique soul and probably better suited for a different time in history when a real man was someone who rode horses, wrote poetry, and wore leather. Leo dressed like a cowboy philosopher and always went out of his way to greet strangers with a handshake and a smile. He usually followed up with some abstract colloquialism that left you unsure if Leo was asking you something or telling you something. Regardless, everyone always wanted to continue the conversation.
Leo floated in and out of Jon and Katherine's life, usually only making cameo appearances to inject some comic relief into the superficial family gatherings Kat otherwise dreaded. The small chance the prodigal son may show up unannounced was the only thing that got Kat through most Crown family holiday's. That, and the countless bottles of Caymus Jon had on deck at all times. A wandering soul suffering from severe Peter Pan syndrome, Kat still found herself deeply disappointed anytime Leo's seat at the table remained empty.
Come to think of it, Leo didn’t even RSVP to Jon and Katherine's wedding. He showed up late, made an unforgettable speech with a profound Hemingway reference only Kat understood, then disappeared into the night with a bridesmaid in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.
"Black sheep" doesn’t do Leo justice, because Leo would just argue that even a black sheep was still a sheep. He loved to debate anything. Especially the most indefensible of positions, even if he didn’t necessarily believe them. Just to get a response or to see if a stranger had a pulse. Leo would have made a magnificent lawyer. Only he hated school. Or at least the archaic ways in which the entire education system operated.
Ironically, Leo was offered a teaching position at NYU following the viral success of an op-ed he wrote for The Times, calling out everything he found so flawed with the modern education system. NYU only offered Leo the position as a PR stunt to attract more students and Leo only accepted as it provided summers off and unfettered access to an infinite supply of college coeds.
Leo loved to quote Ben Franklin and challenge his students to, "Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing about."