“The question of love is one that cannot be evaded. Whether or not you claim to be interested in it from the moment you are alive you are bound to be concerned with love because
Love is not just something that happens to you: It is a certain special way of being alive.
Love is in fact an intensification of life a completeness a fullness a wholeness of life.” – Thomas Merton
I very fondly remember the first love story I ever read. Fresh out of college, my newlywed husband and I decided to take a Caribbean cruise. I brought along some books that had been recommended to me. This was far before the days of Kindle and Nook.
None of the books I had packed sang a song that drew me in. At the end of our vacation, I paused at the Paradise shops in the Fort Lauderdale airport. I grabbed a bag of peanut M&Ms and a book.
At that point, I had no idea who this Nora Roberts was or even what the story was truly about. My first foray into non-required classroom reading hadn’t gone so well. The books I had brought along were okay, but they didn’t reach out to me and pull me in.
All that changed as the plane took off for Denver and I dove into the story of Cynthia Fox and Lance Matthews. I remember their names, because, for the first time, I fell in love with a book not because I was forced to read it for a grade, but because I had chosen to.
Shortly thereafter, I discovered other romance writers who drew me into their worlds filled with love and connection. That’s when I discovered a fondness for love stories. Because they brought out in me a way of being alive I had never known existed.