I was out to dinner on Saturday night, and the man at the table next to us has no idea he’ll be starring in one of my future novels.

I’m certainly not creepy enough to tell him that, of course. Hot damn, there was just something about him. He was there with a buddy, and the way he laughed…the way his eyes crinkled. And he had this way of moving his hands that made me want to put them on my body (which was really kind of disconcerting as I was sitting there with my kid).

And then at the end of the meal, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head. Aaauughh.

Yeah, he was good-looking. But it was more than that. It was the way he carried himself, the things that he laughed at or the way his eyes brightened when his buddy brought up a memory. It was the way he drummed his fingers on the table when he was trying to remember the title of that song (and if you’re reading this, Guy-from-Applebees, it was “Been Caught Stealing” by Jane’s Addiction).

Stories are people and places mixed with adventure. I want to send him on an adventure. He’s my kind of people. And his perfect match is one part me and one part…probably some chick standing in front of me at Target. She remains to be seen.

But she will be found. I’ve got half the story written in my head already.