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Confessions of a very un-romantic Romance novelist

I admit it. I'm not a romantic.

I'd love to be more romantic, but it's just not a big part of who I am. I'm finally coming to accept this part of myself. Embrace what I'm not, just as much as what I am. And, more than anything, thank my lucky stars that my hubby doesn't seem to mind that I don't remember anniversaries-even my own. I will think of something romantic that I'd like to do with my Hubby, but I inevitably forget about it before I can put the plan into motion. More often than not, he's the one planning our date nights and weekends away.

Flower petals strewn about make me think of the clean up.
Big gorgeous houses make me shudder with thoughts of dusting them. Frilly, fussy designs make me turn the other way. Give me a beach to walk down, hand in hand with my man, and I'm a happy girl. A roaring fireplace on a cold night makes me swoon.

Or maybe it's not that I'm unromantic, but that I can enjoy the simple things. Flowers for no reason? Yes please! That thrills me. A clean house? I'm all verklempt. A simple bubble bath when I've had a rough day? Of course! My favorite coffee surprise? I'll follow you anyway.

Maybe I am a bit of a romantic--just not in the traditional sense.

How about you? Do you have a romantic nature?