Since I was little, I’ve wished for the fantasy of falling head over heels for someone, and then, magically, finding out that they feel the exact same way. I wanted the fireworks, the sweet one-liners that could make my day, and the little musings that could be shared only by two people in love. Maybe I cultivated the fantasy because of the endless stream of romantic comedies I inhaled or being raised in the generation of boybands—hot guys singing about you being their only one could turn anyone into a blabbering romantic.
Admittedly, I’ve become a bit more cynical over the years, and romance soon sank to the bottom of my list of priorities. After getting burned a couple of times, the idea of finding that perfect person for me turned more than a little sour, but a part of me has always kept hoping.
And that part, I guess, is responsible for all the romance novels I’ve been writing. Making two people fall in love is never easy, but it’s quite an amazing job.
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