About

Why I write romance.

It's a funny thing. Rewind to about six years ago, and I didn't even believe in love, I certainly didn't believe in happily-ever-afters, and oh my goodness, you should have seen how hard I rolled my eyes when it came to romantic movies or romance novels.

It's been quite a journey to get me to where I am: happy, healthy, a believer in true love, and a romance author who absolutely adores her job.

My story isn't all that different from anyone else's.

My parents got divorced when I was five. My first love cheated on me. My first profession taught me that I was expendable. And my first marriage? Well... it was a doozy.

Every relationship I ever had--other than my relationship with my mom! I lucked out there!--was broken and conditional at best and downright unhealthy at worst. When I was thirty-two, I left my husband--the father of my two children--and swore that I would never EVER be part of a serious relationship again. The first thirty years of my life taught me that the only thing I could count on other people to do was use me and leave me. Life was better on my own. I would raise my children and spend the rest of my life alone because...well...you get the drift. ;)

And then, following a huge series of coincidences, I met someone. We connected online and I was so certain this man was unlike anyone else I'd ever met that I canceled our first date. I was not in the market to fall in love, and I knew, I knew that I'd be head over heels with this guy in a matter of seconds. Hell... we hadn't even met yet and I was already halfway in love with him.

Six weeks later, I reached out again. Two weeks after that, we went on our first date...

...and my life has never been the same.

I can't tell you how many conversations I had with my mom in the first thirty-two years of my life. I would cry and cry and tell her the only thing I wanted was to be happy. I thought I was broken. That happiness was beyond me and the best I could ever hope for was 'not sad.'

I'm so effing happy now, I don't know what to do with myself.

What changed? I met a man who is equal parts strong and gentle. A man who is willing to get downright goofy with me in one moment and have serious discussions about politics, TV, books, or the general state of the world in the next moment. He's the first person to see me for who I am and not who he wants me to be. The first person to see all the strangely wonderful things that make me who I am and say 'my God, I love the way you think.' He accepts me and helps me through the hard stuff. He makes me feel safe without being domineering...

And so now, I devour romance novels like they're oxygen and cry at all the happy endings.

I know there are so many women out there like pre-Mr. Wonderful me. Women who give and give and give and get so little in return. Women who are told they're not enough or that they're too much. Women who struggle to put one foot in front of the other and look forward to the days when they're simply 'not sad.'

Why do I write romance now? Because I want to share these happily-ever-afters. Because I want people to know that true love is real and that somewhere out there is a someone who isn't perfect but is perfect for them. I know a book isn't enough to do that because fiction is fiction and real life is an entirely different beast. That's why I'm so honest about who I am and where I started.

True love exists. It's life-changing. And I want the whole world to experience it.