When I was a teen, I was always falling in love. Rock stars. Movie and TV stars. Teen idols. I made up stories about them in my head–with me always playing the heroine, of course. And we always lived happily ever after. Oddly, I didn’t read much romance in those days, though I was, apparently, writing it. I read science fiction and fantasy. Andre Norton was a huge favorite. Suspense by Mary Stewart and Ian Fleming. I read Robert Heinlein and Issac Asimov, too. Westerns by Louis L’Amour, though ol’ Louis snuck quite a bit of romance into his books. But I still fell in love. And learned the hard way that love doesn’t always lead to a HEA.
Thanks, Silver, for every single time you ever fell in love.
Whether or not it was obvious, whether or not it lasted, and whether or not you were loved back, it changed everything.
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Actually, Silver, you’re always loved back.
At some point in college, I picked up a romance. I don’t remember which one–probably THE FLAME AND THE FLOWER or a bodice-ripper of that ilk. I can’t way I was hooked, though. That summer I went on a Mack Bolan reading binge after discovering Don Pendleton’s classic series. But romances hung in there on my TBR pile. And one day, I realized that all those words I’d scribbled in notebooks told the same story–two people falling in love, doing stuff, breaking up, and realizing they truly love each other and find their HEA. It’s a tried and true formula. I just finished my 46th book, which will release from Harlequin in March, 2019. I hope to publish at least two on my own before then. I’ve got #47 (Red Dirt Royalty #9), #48 (Penumbra Papers), and #49 (Nightriders) on the drawing board. I’ll have to think on #50. That’s a big milestone. Good thing I love writing romance, huh?
What are you loving today?