Have you heard of the butterfly effect? If a butterfly flaps its wings over here, will it cause some weather catastrophe or prevent one somewhere else? Can something so insignificant really have such a profound effect? I think so. At least in my life it’s happened. A little “butterfly” is why I chose to try my hand at writing novels.
I never used to read romance books. GASP! I know, right? But it’s true, I didn’t. My mother read them, and so, by default, they just weren’t cool. (Sorry mom!)
I used to read dark thrillers, or horror. Dean Koontz was my favorite author and I’ve read every vampire book Anne Rice ever wrote. Those were the kind of books I liked. Romance was just pretty, and flowery, and frivolous.
Then one day, my little butterfly said to me: “You like vampires, right?” Duh. Who doesn’t like a good vampire story?
Anyway, she loaned me the first book in The Circle Trilogy, by Nora Roberts. She did NOT tell me it was a romance book, and I did NOT know who Nora Roberts was. (Yes. Apparently I DO live under a rock!) I was halfway through the book before I realized what my sneaky friend had given me, and I was hooked!
After I read those, I read more. I read at least half of that author’s books before I started reading others. Now I can’t live without romance. Who knew my mother was right?
But inevitably it happened. I read two separate books, by two different authors, that disappointed me. OBVIOUSLY the heroine in these novels had chosen the wrong man! The stories may have had a happy ending but I was not happy! If I had written those books, I would have ended them properly. Can you see where I’m going with this?
It took me some time to work up the courage, and even longer to finally finish my little project, but eventually I wrote the story I wanted to read.
My dear friend with the butterfly wings passed away a few years ago. She is sorely missed and this story is for her. I think she would like it.