Signs of Spring
Every year, winter gets to me. Freezing temperatures, one storm after another, ice and accidents all over the roads…by March, I’ve just about had it. I want to chuck it all and swim to the Bahamas.
Recently, I confessed my feelings to a few friends and found out, guess what? I wasn’t alone. In fact, in the grand scheme of things I was probably doing better than most. I have a warm home and the heating bill is paid. Granted, we locked in at a higher price last summer, but, oh well. Life’s a gamble. My husband and I celebrated another wonderful Valentine’s Day and counted our blessings. I received an offer for a series from a mass market publisher and my career continues to grow. And do you know what else is growing? Daylight!
I wish I could say I was the first one to notice it, but I wasn’t. An author friend shared her first sign of spring. Her subway ride from NYC to her home on Long Island was marked by a lovely purple and orange sunset when the car crawled above ground. Soon she’ll be arriving home before the sun goes down, and eventually more light and warmth will signal the flowers to bloom and allow us to take long walks after dinner.
I don’t think anywhere is perfect all of the time. The Midwest has killer tornadoes, the South, oppressive humidity and hurricanes. California, earthquakes and wildfires. So far it seems that a little cold and snow is all New England has to cope with—but that doesn’t mean I can’t dream.
I’ve often picked story settings for my own daydreaming enjoyment. Heaving Bosoms started in Boston but the adventure took my characters to the Cayman Islands. Love Cuffs began in New Jersey and traveled to Las Vegas. My next release, Djinn and Tonic moves the characters from New York City to a Bahamian Island. Do you see a pattern here?
Most of what I read in winter is erotic romance. If the climate doesn’t warm me, the heat between the characters certainly will. So as I wait for summer, I plan to curl up in a comfy spot with my warm laptop and let romance take me away—to paradise.