stealing the romance

It’s no big secret that I’ll read just about anything printed that passes in front of my eyes or that catches my interest. Oh Hey, Words! On Paper! Gimme.

The other morning I started reading the newest Cornelia Funke book, Reckless. The first chapter caught me pretty quick with a missing father, a mirror to a secret room and a spidery fanged man that fell from the ceiling. Yeah, tell me you could walk away from that opening?

I do have a predilection for romance novels, though. I bet you’re thinking, Really? Romance? Please.

Yes. Romances. Those character driven tales of the struggle to find love & happily ever after. Real life is often full of stress, frustration, chaos and other types of mind numbing bullshit like dusting and laundry, why shouldn’t people steal some happiness by indulging themselves in books filled with fun dialogue, hot sex and the ultimate ending of everlasting love? Do you know how many romance novels sell every year? A MOUNTAIN. I’m not going to bore you with details just know that people need their mind candy.

Now I have a confession. I stole my very first romance novel.

Right out of my sister’s bedroom. The room I was never, ever, under penalty of severe sibling torture, supposed to step foot into without an explicit invitation. Which of course, I did. *waving at my sister, who will call me shortly to discuss my routine transgression of personal boundaries.*

She had a subscription to the monthly Silhouette line and I was fascinated by those skinny little books, a full box of them, delivered to our doorstep, addressed directly to her. That box was like a treasure chest as far as I was concerned and I was not allowed to touch it. That right there? BIG RED FLAG.

So one day while she was out, I snuck in, riffled through a pile of them and quickly dashed back into my room and closed the door.

Oh, do I remember the thrill of those moments! Forbidden books, successful thievery, secret pages full of romance and seduction. It was so freaking awesome.

Imprinted in my brain, for all eternity, is the very first one I devoured behind the closed door of my bedroom, gulping down the words and story, because my sister was bound to notice my trespassing and come reclaim her books after doling out a little sibling justice. I have no idea who wrote it, or what the title is, but I would love to get my hands on a copy to reread it.

Please, if you will, our Heroine: Julia, the selfless young woman off to confront the wicked casino owner who is holding her reckless sister’s debts over her head. Our Hero: Rome, the wicked sexy casino owner, takes one look at the delicately beautiful young woman, nose turned up at his debauchery, and decides he will forgive all her sister’s debts if he can have her for one night. Young martyr that she is, she hands herself over. Soon, after weeks of remembering those hours in the hated, but oh so sexy, hero’s arms, our young heroine discovers she is pregnant from her one night of sacrifice and after confronting our hero with this news, he marries her, purely for the heir she carries, which upon delivery he will keep and they will go their separate ways. Yet, secretly, love builds between them as they navigate this time together. When she goes into labor, almost losing the baby, he proclaims his depthless love for her. She too announces she would give her life so this man can have the child he so desperately wants and if she cannot have him then, really, life is totally not worth living. And they all survive and live happily ever after.

See???? This stuff is so much better than sparkly vampire lust when you’re an eleven year old girl, whose room is filled with Unicorns and Rainbows and Flying Horses. Because it can so totally happen!

This began my proclivity for stealing romances from my sister, which ended when she got married and moved out and I began spending all my allowance money to buy my own.

Last week I listened to an older Nora Roberts romance, one from the early 90’s, Captivated. It’s the first in a four book series, The Donovan Legacy. I really enjoyed the story when it first came out; finding these older category romances in audio book form is really fun. It’s like meeting old friends for a drink.

The basics: Morgana Donovan, proud confident shopkeeper witch meets Nash Kirkland, cynical carefree horror screenwriter. Sparks fly, views clash, friendship and love evolve. The past rears its ugly head, reminding Nash why he’s cynical and carefree, Morgana wants to be wanted for who she is and there is conflict. When the dust settles, Nash realizes he’s been a jerk and chases the love of his life to her Ireland refuge, Castle Donovan. They kiss, make up, after he’s apologized properly for being an ass. Happily Ever After ensues.

When I read a book, it’s like theater in my head. I see it and hear it; the voices, the colors, the scenery. I reread the books in this series too many times to count years ago. Yes, I am that much a book geek. This makes approaching books that I’ve already read as audio an interesting event. I didn’t know the narrator of this book, how her interpretation of the characters would carry, would the telling, as it were, match my vision.

At first, not so much, but it didn’t take me long to make the adjustment. The voice wasn’t as strong as I thought it should be. The female character, per my memory, needed a huskier voice and the change in pitch for the male seemed a little off. It was fun, as it was the first time I read it, to have the story read aloud and revisit the characters I enjoyed so much once before.

I just want it on record that I’ve made up for the romance thievery. I share all of my romance novels with my sister now. And just about everything else I read. Or listen to. Because I am awesome like that.