Childhood Valentine Days still stick in my mind. The
excitement of going to school with my cards all addressed, then
later bringing home that bursting envelope stuffed with Valentine’s cards from
my classmates. The excitement of seeing
who sent me a sentimental greeting and guessing, hopefully, who might have
snuck the anonymous ones into my collection when I wasn’t looking
Maybe that’s when I decided to write romance novels. Or perhaps that experience set me up for
future disappointments. My husband turned
out to be the world’s least romantic man (no surprise he’s been my ex for a
long time) and Valentine’s day lost some of its magic. The first year after my divorce, I booked a romantic booth
for two in my favorite restaurant and waited for Mr. Right to show up and ask
me on a Valentine’s date. Alas, Cupid let me
down.
As a single mom, that was the first of many a dateless
Valentine’s. Yet despite all those years
when Cupid blatantly ignored me, I still felt it was important to
celebrate. I decorated the house, bought
cards and chocolates for my loved ones—family and friends—and made sure my kids
had lots of sweet treats. One year I
took heart-shaped sugar cookies with pink icing around to my customers. I wanted to make sure all the important people
in my life felt loved and special.
My efforts paid off, and I’ll never forget the year my
youngest son, who was about eleven or twelve at the time, spent all his paper
route money buying his sister and I each a long-stemmed red rose on Valentine’s
Day. He told his friends, “My Mom writes
romance novels. Valentine’s Day is
bigger than Christmas in our house.”
He’s still that romantic guy, only now his girlfriend gets the flowers.
The point to all this is that love takes on many different
guises, but it truly does make the world go round.
Why else would romance novels be the number
best seller of all genre fiction?
Partnered or not, don’t wait for love to find you.
Go out and spread it around.
Make someone’s day special and yours will be
too.
This year I plan to buy a bunch of
cinnamon hearts, red and white heart-shaped jujubes, sweethearts and chocolate,
and make up little goodie bags to drop off for friends I haven’t seen for way
too long as we wait out the health order and receive our vaccine.
How will you spend
February 14th? Please share
some ideas or your favorite Valentine’s memories below. I’m always looking for inspiration.
Since there’s bound to be a slew of Valentine’s romances
for sale this week, I’m going to hold off till the end of the month with my
next release, ONE FANTASY FALL, quickly followed up with my latest Mail Order
Bride Story MAIL ORDER MARTINA in early March.
Here’s a snippet and the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SLC93KN
Neither of them are marriage
material—but fate decrees otherwise.
The train platform was empty, the
train that had discharged Martina and Charlie in Colorado long gone from sight,
and Martina fought down the hopeless feeling that had been with her daily since
pa died. When Charlie tugged at her
skirt to be lifted up, she batted his hand away. “Not now, Charlie, let me think.”
There had been no takers when she tried to sell the train
ticket the unknown Will Thorn had sent to carry her from Harrisburg to Durango,
and she wasn’t surprised. Why would
anyone want to come here? By the time
she sold her horse, and paid what she was sure was an inflated price for her
and Charlie to stay in a rooming house, her finances were looking bleak, and
she had little choice but to board the train.
Clearly, Aunt Florence had this planned as Pa lay ill. Pretending to be Martina, her aunt
corresponded with some pathetic, lonely rancher out in Colorado. And the mean
old biddy’s scheme worked. Martina and Charlie were out of Aunt and Uncle’s
lives forever.
While she was contemplating her next move, a porter came
out of the station. “Won’t be another
train along till tomorrow, ma’am.”
Martina thought to the return address on the
latest letter tucked into her reticule.
“How far is it to Ridgemont?”
“Ridgemont? Not much
there. Someone expecting you?”
“A Mr. Thorn,” she said.
“Which one?” the porter asked. “The thief or the gambler?”
That sounded a bit dubious.
“Mr. William Thorn. I understand
he has a ranch.”
“Wouldn’t call it that,” the porter said, “although the
place was something in its day. Don’t
tell me Will’s out of jail?”
“I—” Marty swallowed
thickly. “There must be a mistake.”
“Just saw the ranch’s hand pass through town not long
ago. If he’s still around you can likely
catch a ride with him.”
In an unexpected kind move, the porter picked up her valise
in one hand and Charlie in the other.
“You both look pretty tuckered.
Let’s see if we can get you sorted out.”
Happy Heart Day, whatever
you do,
Kathleen
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