I write romance because I like happy endings. One of the most famous romance movies was Ghost. The love they shared warmed my heart and made me cry, but at the end, they were still apart. No going back in time… no magic… no waking up from a bad dream…nothing. At the end of the movie, I was still sitting in my seat looking totally confused, and thinking to myself, “Wait a minute, what kind of ending is that? That sucked.” I have never watched that movie again. No, give me a happy ending anytime.
I enjoy writing complex fiction characters most. The ones who are insane like Janet in My Everything, or Adrian in My Angel. Hmmm, what does that say about me? Well anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my heroes and heroines. I love the feelings I get when I write about how they feel about one another and when they reach the point where they just fit. But throw in a psycho here and there and that makes for good reading.
I find that it’s hard to write about myself, I guess that’s why my husband usually has to push me to write blogs or I only send out newsletter during the holidays. My husband once asked me why I could create these great characters but I can’t write one simple page about myself? I answered, “Dah, my characters have interesting lives, not that our life isn’t interesting,” (I have to say that to him, you know how men are, it makes him feel good.) “But we’re just regular people, and who wants to read about regular people?”
He tells me that lots of people would like to hear about our lives, even if we are just regular folks. I’m thinking that no one wants to hear about the time I changed a light switched in our new home. I turned off the power to that part of the house, only to find out after I got shocked, and consequently almost wetting my pants that some Dummy ran a separate electric line for that switch.
Or the many times when I tried to cook dinner and write at the same time and was IN THE ZONE, and didn’t realize that I was burning dinner. Then when I finally remember, I save it just in time to cut the charred parts off, slap it into whatever sauce or gravy that I had on hand, hoping it would cover up my error, and voila, dinner is served. “Mmm… No, I don’t think so.”
So here I am trying to think of something compelling or witty to write when all I really want to say is “Hey, welcome to my site! While you’re here, look around; each page has something different Read a chapter from my books, My Everything, My Angel, Forgotten Promises, and Until Now…, A Life Of My Own, and my future release, Won’t You Let Me Love You. And enter the monthly contest (when I have one) to win great prizes.