Meet romance author Nana Malone today at the Book Boost! Here's what she had to say about romancing the romance writer...
Ahh, romance, that all elusive things that women and men alike look for. Candles, moonlit picnics and hot air balloon rides.
Romantic right? Well if you’re into that sort of thing. What if watching your man do the dishes is what you see as romantic. All power to you. Good luck getting that to happen, though.
When people hear I’m a romance writer they assume I’m a flowers and sweep off the feet kind of girl. Don’t get me wrong, flowers on Valentine’s day, birthday, or just because, are totally awesome (BTW, thanks to DH for the lovely roses) but what really gets me is the thought that goes into a gift. The most romantic gift, DH ever got me? Apple Jelly.
Several years ago when I was living in London, I’d been moaning about how I couldn’t get apple Jelly anywhere to save my life (If you’ve never had it, it’s delicious). Well, Dear Hubby was Dear Boyfriend at the time and he came for a Christmas visit carting with him a gorgeous necklace and earing set, which I was thrilled with. But when he pulled that little clear jar of apple jelly out of his bag, I squealed and ran around the room doing my best booty dance. He still laments about how he could have saved himself some cash that Christmas. It was all about the thought and effort that went into finding the perfect the perfect thing to make me happy. And let’s not get it twisted, I won’t turn down diamonds in favor of Apple Jelly.
I feel for men who often get left out of the romancing. In all my years working in corporate America, I’ve never seen a man receive flowers from his wife. Granted I can imagine the ragging that would occur from his buddies. It started me thinking, what do women do to romance their husband?. If you ask the men, they’ll say lingerie and a babysitter for the night. I do love that men are a little easier to please. Generally a beer, some food and a little nookie and they’re in heaven. But whether it’s Valentine’s Day or Christmas or just plain old Tuesday, a little thought goes a long way.
I think that’s the true art of romance. Though admittedly, sometimes I go a little overboard with the gift giving. I keep thinking in grand gestures and not the little everyday ones. So far I’ve covered every death defying idea I can think of for “romantic” presents. Race car driving, a ride in a bi-plane, sky diving, motorcycle lessons. And no, I’m not married to Evil Knievel. But this Valentine’s Day, I’m going to keep it simple. A babysitter and some time alone.
Am I a romantic t heart? You bet. As a romance writer, I believe in love. I believe in the intricacies and nuances. I love nothing more than to watch relationships unfold. But my husband will tell you the true path to my heart is through apple jelly, not flowers.
The most romantic advice I can give is don’t forego the everyday little gestures. They can go a
A Note from the Book Boost: What a great story, Nana! Thank you for sharing it with us. And apple jelly is the bomb. ;-) Please tell us more about your book.
Off the court, tennis star Jason Cartwright’s playboy image is taking a public beating. On the court, he’s down forty-love.
A knee injury is shutting down his game, and the paparazzi are splashing his love life on every magazine. A comeback is in order, but the makeover he needs to save his faltering career is in the hands of the woman he loved and left fifteen years ago.
While single-mom, Izzy Connors, sees people for who they really are through the lens of her camera, even without it, she knows Jason isn’t the star he appears to be. Although his charm and good looks haven’t dimmed since he broke her heart, all she sees is his wasted talent and playboy lifestyle.
Can Izzy put the past behind her and help Jason get his game, and his image, back on track? Or will the click of her camera shatter his world as well as his heart?
Dark glasses masked his eyes, but Izzy knew behind them, she’d find intense heat able to strip her to the soul. His tousled blond hair just as she remembered it, a little unkempt, as if he hadn’t bothered with it. He was every bit the Hollywood playboy portrayed in the press. And that devil-may-care sexiness was going to be the death of her.
Before she could say anything else, his strong arms and a warm musky scent enveloped her. Involuntarily, her body stilled like an ice sculpture as her breasts came into contact with the hard planes of his chest. Unable to process the situation, she heard a faint clatter as his sunglasses fell to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think of the last time she’d seen him, the last time he’d abandoned her for Sabrina.
“Damn, Izzy, you look amazing.” He set her down, but kept hold of one of her hands. Whiskey eyes poured warm amber over every inch of her body. “How’ve you been?”
The source of her greatest humiliation wanted to know how she’d been, as if they were old buddies. She reminded herself they, for all intents and purposes, were old buddies, until she’d made the mistake of pegging him as her first lover.
Behind Jason, his companion, with his rugged dark good looks and infectious smile, saved her from having to speak. Not that she could have. “Did I miss something, Jase? You two know each other?”
Jason’s smile flashed, making her want to do all manner of inappropriate things. Smash his head in with a frying pan? Strip him bare and see if he still looked as good as he promised? Launch a full TET offensive on him with her lips?
Not necessarily in that order.