Welcome my first guest, Rachel Lynne, aspiring romance author and sprinting partner! ~DD

Reasons for romance…books that is!

High on the accomplishment of 50K in 30 days for the NaNoWriMo challenge, I ushered in December with a list of things left undone during November. A deadline for an as yet unfinished manuscript loomed and a request for submission prompted a brainstorming session and an exciting new plot I was dying to write. On top of writing commitments, there were holiday decorations to bring out, gifts to buy, parties to plan—you get the picture. All the balls were in the air I was juggling like a pro and patting myself on the back for a job well done when…the bottom fell out. My eight year old rounds the corner into my office, er dining room, with the bridge of her glasses held together with packing tape. The dog begins to bark with a ferocity usually reserved for things that go bump in the night, and my cell phone rings—it’s a business call I’ve been waiting on.

What’s a superwoman to do? Huddled in the bathroom farthest from the epicenter, I took the call then phoned the eye Doc to inform them we’d be in for another pair of glasses. Did I forget to mention this is the second pair sat on in the last three months? Oh, and the dog was in attack mode at the front door because she had managed to find and corner a lizard the cat brought in a week ago and then promptly lost. Really, no big deal just another crazy day in our household.

I shooed the lizard out the front door, gave my blind-as-a-bat-without-her-specs kid my reading glasses and best wishes until her new ones arrived, gave the dog a treat for a job well done and plopped back into my chair, intent on getting all those balls back into the air. But the words wouldn’t come. I was too keyed up and hacked off. I began to wish for a Calgon moment (for those of you not old enough to remember, Calgon is bubble bath and their commercial used to be a woman surrounded by household mayhem shouting, “Calgon, take me away!”).

I started to fantasize about what it would be like to be a svelte and sexy brunette draped in the latest couture, boarding a Gulf Stream G650 with Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and mega wealthy CEO for a jaunt to Paris. Or maybe a rock star, with six pack abs and, uhum an interesting bulge displayed to perfection by tight leather pants, straddles a Victory Kingpin and beckons me to take a ride on the wild side. Caribbean vacation flings, or perhaps a futuristic space pirate and one or two of his crew! The pictures in my mind were endless until the guilt set in and I jerked myself back to the tasks at hand. Yet, my brief trip to fantasy land got me thinking. Why do we women love romances?

Whatever the fantasy, it can be found between the pages of a romance novel. For years, our industry has been the red-headed step child that no one wanted to acknowledge, but in a year that’s seen our economy circle the drain, the publishing world has been forced to acknowledge the bright spot on the sales reports. Romance is selling like the proverbial hotcakes and no wonder. Just like Hollywood pictures during the Depression Era, so the romance genre is for today’s women. A little escape. A little journey into the grown-up version of fairytale land is just what the doctor ordered before we dash out the door to get little Suzy to soccer practice or Johnny to band. And we shouldn’t feel guilty. The daily grind gets us down, to do lists overwhelm, relationships get complicated—that’s life warts and all.

But the next time a Calgon moment starts to rear its ugly head, remember a sexy shapeshifter, a badass cowboy, a pair of flirtatious firemen, or a devilishly handsome duke are only a page away.

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