THE LOTTERY FOR REAL

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I caught a snippet of an interchange between Hallie and Hank on Facebook one day last week. Hallie said, "If I won the lottery, I'd hire a chauffeur, and Hank replied, "If I won the lottery, I'd hire a chef."

That started me thinking about the fantasy of suddenly finding ourselves rich beyond our wildest imaginings, and I wondered what we would discover we REALLY wanted if it actually happened.

Of course we'd give lots of money away--pick your cause.

But then, there would be a bit left over, right? Would we hire chefs and chauffeurs, buy mansions or private jets, shop at Harvey Nick's in London? Interesting.

Twenty to thirty years ago, I might have gone for the whole cottage in an English village thing. A thatched cottage. Maybe with a stream and a mill wheel. A post office and a perfect pub.

But in the years since, I find I've fallen inextricably in love with London. The fantasy gradually changed. So, a house or flat in London, preferably, you might guess, in Notting Hill. (And believe me, that would take winning the lottery.)

But what I'm discovering is that I actually love my stays in rented flats. There is the flat in Notting Hill where I've stayed for years, with all its quirky eccentricities. It might be a bit posher if I could buy it and do it over, but it wouldn't have the same character. And when I sometimes stay in different flats, it gives me a chance to discover new places and neighborhoods, which I would miss, as I suspect would my readers.

And as for the mansion, no, not really, although I'd replace our poor sad fence, paint, add insulation (pant, pant) and spruce up the garden.

The Maserati? I have my eye on a Ford Fiesta.

And the multi-million dollar question--would I write if I didn't have to?

I can't imagine not.

What about you, Reds? If the world was your oyster, what would you do with it?

(I do have to admit that I'd consider buying that villa in Tuscany, where we could all get together for cooking and writing retreats. And maybe invite Sting over for dinner . . . )

LUCY BURDETTE: Giving a lot away would be so much fun! But then maybe a little place in Manhattan...or Paris...I can't imagine not writing. How would we fill our hours???

HALLIE EPHRON: Imagining carte blanche in the cheese department. Not looking at price tags when I shop for clothes. And a house with a spectacular sunset view and a spacious front porch. Oh, and oysters. Wellfleet oysters. Lots of them.

RHYS BOWEN: Oh yes, oysters. I usually have a small appetite, but I commented last week when we were eating oysters (horribly expensive) at a restaurant, that I'd love to see how many I could eat before I felt sick. I'd love to give away lots of money. I'd love Deb's thatched cottage. For me the best thing would be what Lee Child said to me a few years ago. "I don't do economy."

Traveling first class everywhere with a limo at either end. Bliss.

JAN BROGAN: Let's see, there's a condo in Aix-En-Provence I have my eye on. And after being smushed on the way over in seats designed for no one taller than five feet, I'm with Rhys. I don't need a first class ticket, (although it would be nice) but I do need the leg room to survive a six to seven hour flight. And on the domestic front, I've always wanted to hire a gardener.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I said that? Huh. Not a bad idea. Would he/she also clean up? Well, All I can say is, our car is ten years old. I saw a possible replacement the other day, and I said to Jonathan, what kind of a car is that? It's pretty cool. And he said--it's a Porsche Panamera.

SO, because what are you gonna do, I made a song out of it. To the tune of Guantanamera. Sing along, if you will. "Porsche Panamera! We want a Porsche Panamera. Porsche Pana-meerrrrraaaaa...we NEED a Porsche Panamera"

But, really,I wouldn't buy a car. Is there a way to arrange for--more time??

DEBS: Hank, no! Now you've got that song stuck in my head! Rhys, I'm totally in on the oysters. And on traveling first class--or hey, at least business--especially on those ten hour transatlantic flights. And, I do have to admit a guilty fondness (more than fondness) for nice hotel rooms . . . Being able to order a bottle of Dom Perignon at the champagne bar at St. Pancras Station would be pretty nice too, instead of one glass of the cheapest bubbly on offer.

But if we want to move into the realm of fantasy--and why not?--I'm going with Hank.

I want the Time Turner.

What about you, JR Readers? What would you do if you won the lottery?