There are several themes in MARCH WIND, things that have begun to come clearer to me as I’ve watched loved ones deal with serious health concerns, and as I’ve tried to face some of my own fears about death. Love doesn’t stop when someone discovers they’re dying. If anything, love seems to be the one thing that grows stronger, rings out more truly, because people become less afraid to say how they feel. Why is it so hard to look at those we care about on an ordinary, nothing’s happening Wednesday and say, “I love you” or “You matter to me” or “You make my life better”? Those words shouldn’t be reserved for times when we fear we’re losing the ones we love. They should be spoken every day…without reservation. Life is too short to hide who you truly are. There is a freedom in feeling comfortable enough to say, “This is me. Warts and all.” Life is hard enough. Wearing a mask and pretending to be someone we aren’t only adds to the struggle. You want to know who I am? I’m an overweight, middle-aged wife and mother who drinks way too much wine, curses her ever-growing curves and…

We’ve all heard the old saying: You’ll always remember your first love. As I get a little older and wiser (I hope), I can’t help but wonder if the adage is actually true, or do we simply wish it was? Last year, I released my first New Adult book, SEVEN WAYS TO LOSE YOUR HEART. One day when I was obsessing over reading over some reviews, I was blindsided by a blogger who was irate over the fact that my HEA couple, established as each other’s first love but later separated by tragic events in their lives, had the audacity to have relationships with other people before reuniting. I mean this blogger was ANGRY. I wasn’t bothered that she didn’t like my book (cause if you can’t handle a negative review, then you shouldn’t be in the business of story-making), but I did start to wonder why do we revere first loves as if they hold the key to deciphering all of our future romantic choices? Romance novels do this a lot (I write romance, so I can say it…right?). They present the story of first love as this pure, holy experience that can never be recaptured (I wrote two…