Cat Glamour is an overweight 38-year-old divorcée who is struggling with finances, self-esteem, and balancing her personal life. While her 91-year-old, decidedly different, grandmother provides emotional support, Cat needs to take control of the life that has been shattered by her abusive ex-husband and tragic events of the past. On the day Cat decides to start an exercise routine, the last thing she expects is a modern-day Genie to pop out of her Wii machine. Unfortunately for Cat, her Genie is somewhat unreliable in his wish-granting capabilities. In a series of hilarious misadventures, he sends Cat to a castle in France and back in time 20 years in an attempt to solve both Cat’s weight issues and emotional stresses. Cat’s journey is one filled with quirky adventures, realistic love, and above all, self-discovery.
I look back into those piercing green eyes, then lower my gaze downward to his strong hands and bulging calf muscles.
How can someone so entirely delicious be so royally loopdy loop? It’s such a shame.
“Okay.” I inhale and exhale in one breath. “So you’re… what’s your name?”
“It’s Eugenius. It’s a Latin-based name that…”
“Eugenius? Sure, because you’re a genie. Clever. Your delusions are actually clever! Okay Eugenius, that’s a mouthful, so I’m gonna have to call you Eugene. That okay with you?”
He nods, then stands and asks, “Hey, Katherine, I was wondering, do you have any breakfast foods I could partake in? Perhaps a croissant? I’ve been locked away inside that Wii for years. I’m famished.”
I gather all the energy I have left to get up and start walking around my living room in a circle, slowly, very slowly.
How come I haven’t woken up in the hospital yet? This is really happening? Holy hell. This is really happening.
There’s a genie of my Wii in my living room. Demanding croissants.
Maybe I had a massive heart attack in Walmart after seeing Cathy, and I blacked out, and don’t remember any of it. Maybe I’m already in my hospital bed, and that morphine is coursing through my veins, causing me to hallucinate. There has to be a logical explanation for all this. I’m going to have to ask questions. Maybe he’ll answer me better if I feed him.
I walk to the kitchen and find a large bowl of cheesies on the counter. How old are these? Right, last night. I snacked on them when everyone else was asleep. Fine. These’ll do.
When I turn around, there he is, doing side bends for some reason, but still grinning at me rather awkwardly.
“Eugene!” I jump, and several cheesies spill out from the bowl. I catch my breath. “You can’t keep startling me like this.”
“I’m sorry, I thought maybe you could use a hand in here.” He stops his exercising, takes the cheesie bowl from me, leans up against the counter, and begins munching on them.
“These are awful for you, you know.” He holds up a cheesie, carefully inspecting it. “I can’t believe you eat this crap. I lived on a farm when I was a boy, and one of my chores was making cheese. This is not even remotely close to how that tasted. This is so full of artificial, I think it could fly to Mars, visit the surface in one of those fancy rovers, return to Earth, and still look and taste the same as it did the year before.”
I decide to ignore that tirade and focus on the larger problem in my life right now.
“Alright, Eugene, let’s say you’re actually under a spell. It led you to have genie qualities. If that’s true, how come I don’t see or hear about the work of genies in the world today?”
“Ah. You don’t see genie magic? How do you explain those Kardashian sisters?”
“Huh? They used your magic?”
“Yes, but not very well. You have to be careful what you wish for. You only get three wishes, and there are rules. Kim wished for a flawless wedding, not a flawless marriage. It lasted seventy-two days, and on that seventy-second day, she banished me to her Wii as her third wish. She was so angry. I tried my best to move to a bigger living space, from the Wii to the Internet, but before I could, she had her assistant throw it out. She had her assistant do everything for her, even buy her underwear. No joke.”
“Huh. So, people don’t always use you wisely.”
“Not always. Take Donald Trump. He never asked for great hair. He asked for great wealth.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that one. He chuckles back, and I immediately frown. I can’t let him see me letting down my guard.
“You’ve been to Trump’s tower?”
“Master, I built Trump’s tower.”
Heather Grace Stewart is a Canadian magazine writer, author, and poet. Her first poem was published in her school newsletter when she was five, and she's been hooked on writing ever since. Heather's debut novel, Strangely, Incredibly Good, will be released by Morning Rain Publishing on June 5, 2014. Heather's screenplay The Friends I’ve Never Met is her bestselling Kindle book to date, reaching #28 in Action & Adventure in Women's Fiction in November 2013. Her third poetry collection, Carry On Dancing (Winter Goose Publishing, March 2012) charted on print and Kindle bestseller lists in Poetry and Canadian Poetry in Canada, the US, and the UK. Heather is also the author of the Kindle bestselling poetry collections Leap and Where the Butterflies Go, two non-fiction books for youth, and a book of children's poetry,The Groovy Granny. Born in Ottawa, she lives with her husband and daughter near Montreal. In her free time, she loves to take photos, scrapbook, cartoon, inline skate, dance like nobody's watching, and eat Swedish Berries -- usually not at the same time. For more information, visit Heather’s blog and her official website, and connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.