Ahhh…Valentine’s Day. 

Some love it. Some hate it. 

I love it. 

Duh. I’m a romance author so anything to the contrary would be on the hypocritical side, don’t you think? I’m a hopeless romantic, even though when I fell in love, I did so with a man who prefers tacos and an Arizona Cardinals game over a romantic dinner any day. Candles? Love notes? Cuddling on the sofa?

Not a fat chance during sports season. And sports happen All. Year. Long.

Candles are for lighting a path to the Doritos when the power goes out or filling the kitchen with the aroma of sugar cookies; love notes consist of a hastily written text to tell me he’s watching the local high school baseball game; and cuddling? Sheesh. Doesn't happen. When it does, his head bobbles worse than a Randy Johnson Bobble Head because he's trying to catch that last strike, or lean into that all-important touchdown, or help create a downdraft for Team USA swooshing through the slalom poles. 
But that’s okay, because I create characters who DO love to do these things. It satisfies my inner romantic and I’m okay with that. I know hubby loves me, and that’s all that matters—even if my Valentine’s Day surprise is a box of chocolates wrapped to look like baseballs.
It’s the thought that counts. 
BTW--ever noticed those yummy chocolate Easter eggs bear a remarkable resemblance to footballs?
Yeah. Me too.   
I adore happily-ever-afters. I adore endings that make me cry. And I adore the inescapable twinges in my tummy that a good romance will undoubtedly provide. And I especially adore the timeless story of love that endures through this rough road we call life. So that’s what I read, and that’s what I write. A character-driven story will always top my list of favs and if there’s romance involved, I’m so there.

A week before my mother passed away, I found myself walking the halls of the nursing home she shared with so many others her age. Some sat quietly in the hallways in their wheelchairs. Some zoomed up and down the halls chatting with everyone. Some stayed in their rooms. One couple held hands. It brought tears to my eyes though I didn’t know their story. Everyone grows old, but few are privileged to grow old with their soul mate. That particular impression never left my mind and every so often I thought about the way we perceive those older than ourselves. There was a time when they too, had no wrinkles. No gray hair. And they fell in love. I see my own wrinkles and gray hair when I look in the mirror and see my mother staring back at me. But I don’t feel any older than I did many, many years ago. 

So, with this in mind, I wrote Shall We Dance? a short novella about Rudy, an elderly man who refuses to speak because no one really understands him--except Rachel, a soft-hearted young nurse who chose to start her career in the nursing home where Rudy resides. 
Then came Desmond’s story in Under the Mistletoe, where his last wish is to visit the home he shared with his wife. In the path of a bypass, the condemned home reveals links to Desmond's past that will forever bind the lumberjack's past to Rachel's future.

And in the final chapter of Rachel's adventures, Paper Hearts (Feb.14th release) takes Rachel--caught between losing her job and helping Dottie visit a bookshop where a special book appears each year with a Valentine message from her past. 

Rachel’s heart aches for her elderly patients, and she will do almost anything to help them realize their dreams or fulfill their last wishes. She sees through their outer appearance and into their hearts. And she knows some things are worth putting your job on the line for. She gets it. She gets them.
Rachel discovers something most of us seek at some point—what true love really means. I think we all deserve to know. It’s not always in the outward gestures we associate with “romance”, or the lavish gifts or expensive dinners. Sometimes it’s the little things. Like little baseball chocolates. A considerate text to say he’ll be late. Fulfilling a last wish. Or holding the same hand you’ve held for more years than you remember how to count. 
Yep. I’m a hopeless romantic. I write the mushy stuff.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. Cherish the day with the one you love. And remember--Love is ageless and has the power to change lives. 

Happy Reading--

Susie  
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PHOTO CREDITS:
Valentine Card With Bubble Stock ImageBy digitalart, published on 07 August 2011
Stock Image - image ID: 10052956

Easter Egg Candy Stock PhotoBy Maggie Smith, published on 30 January 2014
Stock Photo - image ID: 100231645

Wine Glass Stock ImageBy digitalart, published on 02 May 2011
Stock Image - image ID: 10039889

Silhouette Hand In Heart Stock PhotoBy tiverylucky, published on 19 June 2013
Stock Photo - image ID: 100177453