Why I Write Romances There’s no getting away from fate. Just ask George Emerson from A Room With a View. My fate was pretty much sealed when the blood of two houses intermingled. What happens after a romance novel ends? Just ask my parents. After thirty-eight years of marriage, they still look at each other with gooey eyes. Aside from inheriting the romance gene, the folks passed on their mutual love of books and in my teens, I discovered Twain, Forster, Bronte, Eliot, Dickens, and Hurston. Nurture with a steady diet of Nana’s romance novels and a teenage penchant for unrequited love and you’ve got the makings of a future romance novelist. Then I went to college, a feminist college no less, and one that was newly jolted by the invasion of men into its virgin ranks. And in the eminent Professor Shaw’s literature course, I learned all about my beloved George Eliot’s poor opinion of lady novelists. I also learned that Ms. Eliot understood the power of love. George Eliot proves through her characters that a person is exalted or ruined depending on who one chooses to love. More importantly, she shows the necessity of self-awareness and straight truth before one even ventures to love. Most importantly, she shows that the only reason to marry is true love – not status, wealth, vanity, loneliness, or infatuation. All a romance novel does is focus on this one noble theme. Are they fantasy? Of course. Escapism? No doubt. But behind every fairy tale, we all know, is fact. Do Eliot’s Daniel Deronda and McNaught’s Matt Farrell exist in real life? Damn straight they do. A woman shouldn’t settle for anything less. And it’s my fate to prove it. Hope you enjoy.

BA, English Literature, Wheaton College 1993
EdM, Boston University, 2001