Married for 16 years, going steady for 5 years before that, friends for 3 years before that. That's 24 years, so we have to work pretty hard to make sure Valentine's Day still holds its magic.
Today, as I prepare for our special dinner, my thoughts turn to all the books that make romance happen for me:
- Jane Beckenham's "Hiring Cupid" (Now, all she had to do was play the part and keep her heart closed. She had no time for foolish love games. Love got you nowhere. Her family was a prime example of love’s undoing.)
- Erich Segal's "Love Story" (What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And me. )
- Jenny Crusie's "Welcome to Temptation" (He looked like every glossy frat boy in every nerd movie ever made, like every popular town boy who'd ever looked right through her in high school, like every rotten rich kid who'd ever belonged where she hadn't.
My mama warned me about guys like you.) - Elizabeth Berg's "Say When" (Ellen, he thought, and the name seemed to him to hold everything he might possibly want to say to her.)
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