I should have known early on, I would one day be writing romantic fiction. As I was growing up, my sister and I, although I do think she will tell you I made her do it because I was the oldest, played dress-up. I invited the play, I played the hero, I got to speak the lines. I even chose the kind of clothing we wore.
Mother had a treasure throve of late 19th century costumes handed down from one generation to another. How unfortunate they weren’t secreted away so young hands couldn’t eventually destroy them, which of course we did.
I also loved story telling, and reading books with happy endings was always my choice. My family loved to tell stories, some true, and later I learned some very untrue. But they were great stories.
So, I ask, how could I end up doing anything but writing romantic fiction, always with a happy ending. I was programed to do so from my earliest years.
And watch for something very special on the 10th of February.