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The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of…
From www.plotmonkeys.com

Hi everyone! What an honor and privilege to be invited to guest blog at one of my very favorite sites, populated and penned by four of the world's best romance writers and all around great people! Thanks to the plotmonkeys for holding out a branch so I could swing through this fun jungle.

I've got my mind on marriage today. No, no, I'm not getting married. I did that a long time ago. But I've been reading some emails from readers and am always surprised when they mention their husbands to me (and I'm delighted to hear from the husbands, too!), reminding me of a theory I've had for many years. A theory about marriage, happiness and reading.

Back in the days when alcohol flowed freely at the annual RWA Rita Awards and attendees sat at tables more like the Golden Globes than the Oscars, I've heard rumors that there used to be a secret drinking game: every time a winner thanked her husband, attendees took a sip. By the time Nora stepped up to accept her annual statuette, most of the room would be spinning.

This bit of folklore (I'm certain it's not true – romance writers never drink) demonstrates a theory I've held since I started writing romance and meeting the people who love to read it: we're a happily married bunch. Judging from the mail I get and the hundreds of readers I've met in person, romance readers might love their heroes hot and hunky, but their hearts belong to the man who mows the lawn, fires up the barbecue and hides the remote next to his La-Z-Boy. And I really believe there's a relationship between the love we read and write about, and the one we cuddle next to when we close the book and end the day.

Before becoming a novelist, I spent years in public relations, an industry populated by high-energy women who are particularly gifted at putting a positive spin on everything. And yet, separation, dissatisfaction and man bashing were the norm, not the exception, and in those two decades, I attended more divorce decree parties than weddings. When I switched careers and began to develop friendships and share secrets with a whole new set of girlfriends, I was constantly amazed by the general (and I am generalizing) impression that many of these lovers of the HEA had found one of their own. In fact, the phrase she's married to her real life hero morphed from cute to cliche the fourteenth time I read it.

So, is it possible that there's a connection? Are those of us who live for love – the writers, the readers, the fantasy-seekers – just lucky in love? Or do we work harder for the happy ending because it is so important to us? Or do we actually learn how to keep the fires stoked because we read and write about it every day? I believe we do. I believe that a lifetime of reading and writing about the stuff that dreams are made of gives us some power tools that help us make those dreams come true in our own lives.

And, yes, before you ask, I married my real life hero. I got into an elevator one day, and quite literally stopped in my tracks. He was gorgeous, dressed in Armani and when he smiled, my stomach fell faster than the car on its way to the first floor.

Two years later, in that very same elevator, he dropped to one knee, blinded me with a diamond and said, This is where I found you, so this is where I want to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me. I swear I didn't make that up. Here's a picture of him.

Just kidding. That's Alex Romero, the Bullet Catcher from KILL ME TWICE. How did he get in here?

Here's my husband.

Whoops. Another one of those pesky bodyguards I write about. That's Dan Gallagher. His book's coming up in the future.

Oh, here he is. Many years and elevator dips later.

xoxo
Rocki
www.roxannestclaire.com

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