"We're having sex until we're out of each other's system."
Lucy is what the "Agency" made her: deadly, ruthless and calculating. It's stripped away much of the girl she used to be, but fear and lust remain. Troy inspires both. He always has—even when he hijacked Lucy's life and gave it to a shadowy government agency operating outside the law.
In a world where every day is an op and every op could be your last, there's no room for emotion. Whatever gets you through—the training, the thrills, the sex—you take and are grateful.
Even as fellow agents are culled by unknown assassins, Lucy and Troy remain locked in a breathless clinch of deception, distrust and desire. At any moment, one could be tasked to kill the other, and at the Agency, protocol rules. And cancellation is forever.
Here is the story of how the book came about:
Recently, when a commercial for "Lucy" by Luc Besson, the Scarlett Johansson movie, flashed on the TV, I said to my husband, "I told you I'd write my version of that movie." It was where the idea for "The Seduction of Lucy" came from. My homage. I'm a huge fan of both Besson and Johansson, so when "Lucy" ads hit the airways way back when, I was psyched. I'd seen "La Femme Nikita" a million times, in all three of its incarnations, and I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking watching Johansson on the screen for an hour and a half is no hardship, but after the first twenty minutes of "Lucy", the movie turned into some weird art house film, and though I'm sure there were layered symbolism and erudite life lessons being doled out, I'd felt cheated. If I was the type to swear in public, expletives would have tripped off my tongue as I screamed them at the rolling credits. Instead, I lumbered out of the theater with the other semi-comatose, sulking viewers, and turned to my daughter, saying, "That's not what they sold me." I'd waited so long for a promised experience that wasn't delivered, and couldn't let go of that version of the movie in my head, the version, apparently, that existed only in my head. So I put on my coat, nudged my daughter and said, "I'm going to write what it should have been." She was kind enough to nod, and though she didn't try to hide her condescension (she's sixteen,) I took that as a "You go girl!"
I wanted to write a Lucy that was bad ass, that came into her own, that stood up for herself, and was the one that saved the day (without needing her to be whatever Besson turned Lucy into in that movie.) The audience deserved my version of this trope. Women deserved my version. Totally mad I didn't get my trope!
So I wrote it. "The Seduction of Lucy". Scarlett Johansson would be great in it, but I visualized Haywire's Gina Carano. I can't wait to see what you think.
UPDATE: After watching Lucy five times more, I love it. Their misguided marketing did it a disservice.
Lucy is what the "Agency" made her: deadly, ruthless and calculating. It's stripped away much of the girl she used to be, but fear and lust remain. Troy inspires both. He always has—even when he hijacked Lucy's life and gave it to a shadowy government agency operating outside the law.
In a world where every day is an op and every op could be your last, there's no room for emotion. Whatever gets you through—the training, the thrills, the sex—you take and are grateful.
Even as fellow agents are culled by unknown assassins, Lucy and Troy remain locked in a breathless clinch of deception, distrust and desire. At any moment, one could be tasked to kill the other, and at the Agency, protocol rules. And cancellation is forever.
Here is the story of how the book came about:
Recently, when a commercial for "Lucy" by Luc Besson, the Scarlett Johansson movie, flashed on the TV, I said to my husband, "I told you I'd write my version of that movie." It was where the idea for "The Seduction of Lucy" came from. My homage. I'm a huge fan of both Besson and Johansson, so when "Lucy" ads hit the airways way back when, I was psyched. I'd seen "La Femme Nikita" a million times, in all three of its incarnations, and I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking watching Johansson on the screen for an hour and a half is no hardship, but after the first twenty minutes of "Lucy", the movie turned into some weird art house film, and though I'm sure there were layered symbolism and erudite life lessons being doled out, I'd felt cheated. If I was the type to swear in public, expletives would have tripped off my tongue as I screamed them at the rolling credits. Instead, I lumbered out of the theater with the other semi-comatose, sulking viewers, and turned to my daughter, saying, "That's not what they sold me." I'd waited so long for a promised experience that wasn't delivered, and couldn't let go of that version of the movie in my head, the version, apparently, that existed only in my head. So I put on my coat, nudged my daughter and said, "I'm going to write what it should have been." She was kind enough to nod, and though she didn't try to hide her condescension (she's sixteen,) I took that as a "You go girl!"
I wanted to write a Lucy that was bad ass, that came into her own, that stood up for herself, and was the one that saved the day (without needing her to be whatever Besson turned Lucy into in that movie.) The audience deserved my version of this trope. Women deserved my version. Totally mad I didn't get my trope!
So I wrote it. "The Seduction of Lucy". Scarlett Johansson would be great in it, but I visualized Haywire's Gina Carano. I can't wait to see what you think.
UPDATE: After watching Lucy five times more, I love it. Their misguided marketing did it a disservice.