Out of our control or not?

 

(image from stencil of old woman and the desert)

 It seemed to me after speaking about our dreams and feeling of lack of control, I should expand a bit on what I meant about lack of control.

First up came the subject of immigration, which is actually impacting most so-called developed nations. I don't know how others see it, but here's my take. I am concerned about uncontrolled entering of our sovereign (some hate that word) countries, where there are agreed upon borders and rules for entry to these countries. That has all been exploded recently with many people, some impacted by climate change or violent crime, are taking sometimes grave risks (sometimes not so much) to get to a country that many of them see as more prosperous/safer than their own. 

For the countries, where they are arriving, there are different views on how they see it with fear, not enough jobs, not enough government benefits, limited available housing, and assorted other concerns. As for myself, I just want the entry to be orderly with those who want to be citizens where they are arriving.

Likewise, with better border controls, is making sure the arrivals aren't bringing illegal drugs or weapons. I am all for a border fence although it's a concern for wild creatures used to access for water and food. What are good answers for these concerns? I wish more responsible leaders were working for those answers and not just using them for political gain.

 

Naturally, I am concerned with potential wars where governments want to force the young to fight them. I was born toward the end of WWII, was a child when the talk was of the Cold War. We had school shelters in the basements where we were supposed to go if there was a nuclear attack. Kind of humorous if you think of it. I grew to adulthood during the Vietnam era and hence have seen what can happen. Wars should not be fought to make money for some while others die. To go to war,we need to have solid reasons but too often we have not.

As for other concerns where I feel no control... try old age lol. We really can't know how it'll be for us once we reach elderly years. I won't go into details here but I think most have a good idea of what they can be. The quote by a movie star that old age is not for sissies stands still true. But what is our choice short of dying early-- not one I would have chosen.

Dreams and lack of control

 

Dreams can be forgotten, by many, or interpreted, sometimes by someone else. Once in a while, I think they need to be shared, which is what I hope to do here with dreams from this week. (image from Stencil)

I was very upset when I woke from this dream. I seemed to be planning to watch a show on television. This is something I don't actually do as I quit watching the TV a couple of years ago. 

In the dream, I had turned a show on to see what it was going to do next. It's not a show I watch in my daytime, but dreams can do what they want. It had brought in a new hero and he was very weird looking, to say the least. He was a regular man but he had what looked like spider feet out his back. Yuck and how does that make a hero???

The show then changed to cartoons, not like Disney but more like the Simpsons (again not a show I had seen other than clips from it). I thought that's ridiculous. I tried to turn it off but could not. I couldn't turn off the TV either; so I switched channels.

Another weird type show from something that seemed beyond normal. At that point, I was feeling panic when I could not stop it. That's when I woke with that panicked feeling. When we both woke, I told Ranch Boss the dream and how upsetting it had been. Normally my dreams are just fine but this was not.

He then told me his dream of the same time, right before waking. He owned a bigger ranch than we have and it was being overrun by people, who had the freedom to walk where they chose, use what they wanted. That went so far as going to build a set of homes on our land that they didn't own, but again, nothing to stop them.

We realized that both or our dreams indicated a lack of personal control. We have felt some of that feeling in our lives. Upsetting to feel you can't really control what is happening, not only in your life, country, but also the world. This is really not a good time to be an empath.

I felt a lot of panic, not unusual for me with anxiety attacks a norm for a number of  years.

But, then, something else happened, that afternoon, where on a fluke, a momentary impulse, Ranch Boss looked out our bedroom window and was aware a small rodent was in our swimming pool, with no real way for it to get out short of drowning. He rushed out there and with the net, he scooped the little critter out to dry land, where it ran off. It had been a very lucky baby ground squirrel.

So... we might not have much control over a lot of what is happening, but we can do what we can and for some being, it might be the difference between life and death. I don't have an answer for how to stop the feelings of panic at lack of control, but that little baby able to run away did help some.

do we want a partisan legal system?

   image from Stencil

Some people wondered what would happen with the jury in the recent trial of the United States' ex-president. I mean, the evidence was dicey, the key witness a known, proven liar with a grudge, but I didn't wonder because I'd been reading various legal experts who said that based on the potential jury pool, it was a done deal regardless of the fact that many have paid off people with what is known as NDAs (Nondisclosure agreements). Even our Congress has a so-called shush fund, where nobody can access it but people are paid off to keep quiet. 

So, I figured the ex-president would be found guilty. After all, that DA had run on getting him. He kept the trial in a region where there were virtually 94+% of democrats and those who wanted to see that ex in prison. Add to it a judge with the same mentality and a daughter making money working for so-called progressive causes.

The former leader was found guilty with evidently continuing a gag order (even though that was supposed to protect a jury pool, and that is past). The judge set up a date for sentencing that is 4 days before the 'other' parties convention. 

Because I had read that the judge's instructions to the jury virtually demanded they find a verdict of guilty, I made the effort to find those instructions and read them. Believe me, they are lengthy. A lot was legalese, but the key sentence that got me ... as although the jury had to find intent, they did not have to find motive. Interesting, as from what I read motive was key to why it was criminal. ... In other words, if he was doing it to protect his wife or family, not a crime. But if it was related to the election it would be. So motive suddenly didn't matter?

Could any of this be more obviously about a partisan legal system? Not to me, but for some of the country, it was a perfect trial and justice finally was served. Wait until this happens to their chosen candidate in another equally biased district in the United States.

Some say it's a banana republic where you take out your political enemies not with votes but rather with the legal system. It kind of looks that way to many of us who may not be right wingers but are in the middle. 

Will this political candidate be taken out by being put in jail? Do we have a fair judicial system or is it truly partisan? I'd say it depends on in what part of the country you live.

It's not new. Remember when one political candidate had destroyed their devices so nobody could find what was on them. Oh, couldn't charge them since they were a candidate for the highest office! How about another that they couldn't charge because they were too feeble? 

This does not just happen at the highest levels of government. Here's a little partisan story from Oregon. A farm family started a fire to destroy noxious weeds on their property but it got away from them and burned some property in federal saved land, national reserve. There were charges brought but in the local area, they were dismissed (locals understood how this could happen). Not good enough for the federal government who then brought their charges and jailed the father and son-- in a way to practically doom their chances of keeping their land. Until a President pardoned them, the very one now who is facing jail time potentially.

I read some of the pundit elites saying that this recent trial was perfect.  Others claim it proves our legal system works... Well, does it, or does it depend on from where you come...

In my opinion, there should be a non-partisan legal system, but one of the lawyers, who claimed this trial was rigged from the start, said if that jury had let the ex-president off, they'd be heckled in their homes. He knew about that because it has happened to him when he called out for Constitutional grounds as a basis... Even though, he isn't in ex-president's party nor voted for him. He just wanted Constitutional grounds to be the basis to protect us all. I don't feel very protected right now, and if you do, I can guess to which political party you belong. It might not stay that way; so think about it.

Politics-- so beware!

 Stencil mystery orb

When I thought of writing about the recent happening in the United States, I wanted time to think from where I was coming on it and what I believed I knew. I never imagined I would begin with how I am feeling right now where it comes to my country and our government. Then I had a dream last night and decided that was where to begin.

The dream was me standing on a kind of sidewalk with a concrete fence between it and what appeared to be the ocean. People were all excited, jubilant even with their eagerness to board a boat. I think it was supposed to be a ship but didn't appear quite that large to me, I watched as the boat took off.

When it was off, away from the dock, and still the people on board seemed gay and then it was apparent something went wrong with that ship and I saw it break in half, soon to sink into the water. People on the shore were horrified and tried to save the people who were drowning. They got some, but I looked in the water and those joyful people were under the water, clearly dead. End of dream.

When I woke, I wondered what that might mean in a dream as I never have fortunetelling dreams. I have a dream dictionary and found this as one possible part. "To dream that a ship has crashed or sunk suggests that you are feeling emotionally out of control. You are expressing some fear or uncertainly within your emotional state. You are afraid of losing something close to you because of certain difficulties."

I think this does represent how I feel right now where it comes to not just my country, but the world. I don't write about it here because I want to be as positive as I can. My theory has been-- what good does it do to speak negatively unless you can do something about the problem. Well, I can't change what seems to me that has gone wrong.

On the other hand, as an old woman, I've seen a lot of life go by. I know that something seems weird about what I am told I now must accept-- and I've been feeling that for a while. Who is it telling us what we must accept as truth?

It was in 2018, when my husband and I both left the political party to which we had belonged since we first could vote. We felt it was going the wrong direction. Still, could we join the other main party? Not really, which left us unaffiliated. A better place to be for now, but it doesn't change our great concerns for what's happening in terms of values and ethics in our world.

I am told that an open United States border, with just anyone coming through, is okay. No matter how many and from where.

I am told that when a woman wins a race, and she looks like a man, for me to see that means I am a bigot.

I am told that caring about a spiraling federal budget is stupid.

I am told that when one candidate tells a lie, it matters; but when another does, it's okay.

I am told that seeing one party get away with whatever they want to do is fine (destroying a Blackberry, paying someone to lie about the other candidate), again, just fine. 

I could go on but it's irritating me just thinking about it, let alone listing it all. As for what is irritating me now, I'll share that in the next blog. Be aware, this is all political. Unfortunately now, it's not just what I see that has triggered me this time-- but how really divided we appear to be as a people for what we think is okay-- not to mention those chortling with glee at what just happened and I am wondering-- so what country do I live in?

 

change of plans

 For June 1st, I had a blog all set up and then something happened in the United States that made it all not seem as important as the new kerfuffle (which does not mean small but instead just a disagreement as to what was best). 

I then wanted to write about it, but i need more time to ruminate over it as I come up with so many angles that it makes me frustrated. Hence, short blog today and more as my brain settles down on what I most want to say.

This quote though might give you a clue. I guess it's from Stalin and one of his henchmen. "Show me the man and I'll find you the crime." 

More on this as it comes to me. 

 

Rose- The Professional Homemaker

 

When beginning a new book, the idea of theme is important but also who will be the characters. Back when it was time to start this book, I wanted a senior romance for a novella. I also wanted at least one character from the first three books in the Arizona historical series. Turned out, I found two, along with other characters returning in secondary roles.

First came Rose, who I had loved for her caring qualities. She is referred to in the first book but is actively in the next two. As a woman who has dedicated her life to caring for another family, along with her husband James, she seemed interesting to me as well as a woman who deserved a happily ever after ending. 

She had been a homemaker, nanny and carer for Priscilla to the point she became a second mother to her. Priscilla had married and moved to a border ranch, Where Rose and James joined them until James grew ill. Priscilla helped them return to Tucson, got them a small cottage and continued to pay for their lives. When James died, Rose cared for her small home and the larger one still owned by Priscilla. She found a quiet life with friends to play cards and chat. It seemed all she would want until along came a disruption.

Ollie, a rather unlikely hero, was a secondary character in all three earlier books. An aging outlaw, mostly retired, he had admired Rose but did nothing about it while she was married and then went through a healing process. He didn't want to wait too long though, as he figured more men would see her as he did. In his late 50s, he wasn't too old to not want passion in a relationship. How would that work with Rose's stable life?

Hence begins Rose's Gifts, with a few surprises along the way. 

Rose's Gifts at Amazon

and through Universal Links

For anyone interested in finding Ollie and Rose in earlier books, along with their families, they can be found in the first three in what is now called the Winds of Change series. The links are alongside this blog to both Amazon and those other links.

There is a trailer along the original title before the book had to be withdrawn over a need for changes. The trailer tells a bit more about the story and it didn't change when it came back.

Rose's Gifts-- YouTube Trailer

The Good, the Bad, and the Downright Ugly

 

For today's blog, I want to share a selection from my book The Beckoning Flame, where examples of love and hate both show up for what they do to one's life. Admittedly, Martin is an extreme example of where hate can take someone, but if you read newspapers, you see examples daily that also show how damaging it can be. 

This snippet is from the end of the book (something writers generally don't like to show readers before they read it); but since it's a romance, readers know the outcome from the time they buy the book. And in reading the story, readers will see Martin's downward spiral. 

This is how you might, as a writer, use emotional growth and deterioration to not only depict the characters, but also might encourage your readers in the direction they want for their own lives. Fiction, maybe, but life has a way of being the model for fiction.

-------- 

The day of her wedding came with a sunny sky but a few clouds. Perfect and not too hot. As soon as she awoke, Grace was in her room. She was glad she had suggested Cord sleep elsewhere to make this day more special.

“When do we put on the dresses?” the little girl asked as she perched on the bed.

“After breakfast and getting your hair done.”

“I want to wear it a lot. It’s so pretty.”

“You can after the wedding, of course.” She got up and put on her robe. She hadn’t given a lot of thought to her own hair but knew it’d be in a bun at the back of her neck, to give room for the veil and the pearl ringlet that held it in place.

Priscilla had little interest in eating breakfast but enjoyed hearing the women talk as well as Davy’s opinion on all of what was going on. He already was speaking more complex thoughts in the short time since she’d seen him.

A few hours later, they were upstairs, with Davy off with Ollie on some little adventure of their own. Looking down from the upstairs window, Priscilla saw the way the wedding site looked with the flowers, one hundred chairs, and a pathway leading to where she and Cord would take their vows. She felt satisfied but wondered how many would really come for the wedding. She had left word everywhere she could imagine but no way to be sure how much interest Tucson would have in giving up a Saturday for this event.

Behind her, she could hear the rustling of fabric as the dresses were donned.  The giggles of Grace added to the energy of the room. She had fixed Grace’s hair to hang down her back after being held back from her face by a jeweled clip, one that had belonged to Priscilla’s mother.

“You all right with all this?” Abby asked as she came to stand beside Priscilla. “You can still change your mind.”

Priscilla laughed. “Are you joking? I am so eager to marry that man that I can hardly stand it. I want it all to go well and be a memorable day.”

“It will be. Now, how about your dress? You’ve been keeping that a secret.” Priscilla turned to look at the three who would be standing beside her with their lovely pink dresses. She was happy that Josey had found another of the previously castoff dresses for Abby. They looked lovely in their finery. If that was all it took to make a wedding memorable, they provided it. Although Rose wore her hair in a high bun, Abby had let hers hang down after being clipped back from her face, using some barrettes that had been her mother’s.

She felt uncertain about the dress, as she’d never worn anything like it. Walking to the armoire, she opened the door where the lovely dress hung. “It’s white,” she said needlessly, “and I’d probably have chosen off white or something.” She cast a teasing look to Abby as she couldn’t explain with Grace listening.

The dress had a scoop neck with a long ruffle that went from it over the shoulders with long white sleeves to the wrist with a lace trim. The skirt was full with several layers but no train. She had had Josey cut that off where hers was to be a garden wedding.

“It’s gorgeous,” Abby said when she brought it out to show them.

“You’ll be so beautiful,” Grace agreed along with Rose. She pulled out the veil that would fall to the length of the skirt.

She knew it was lovely, but different from what she usually wore, not that she didn’t have a nice wardrobe. Just no ballgowns. Such had never appealed to her.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” she asked with uncertainty.

Abby laughed. “You are supposed to be the star of this show. Let’s see it on.”

“People are gathering below,” Rose said looking back out the window. “The chairs will soon be filled with more coming.” She grinned as she heard the first of the harp music start.

It was a show as well as a legal commitment. Priscilla understood that and took a deep breath as she let the others help her into her dress and the petticoats that supported it. At least, it only took two. When she was dressed, with Abby helping her attach the veil, she looked in the mirror and wondered who that woman even was. She laughed then at her silliness. This would be a once in a lifetime event for her. She would enjoy it as she turned to face her wedding party. “Guess we should go down?”

“James is waiting,” Rose said. “He looks fine in his suit. This should be fun.”

At the foot of the stairs, James told them all how lovely they looked. He smiled at Priscilla. “Maybe I won’t give you away but keep you for us.” She laughed. When Grace looked concerned, he retracted the statement with a chuckle. “The garden is packed with as many standing as sitting. I saw the judge, Cord and his men head to their place.”

Priscilla took his arm and watched from behind the wall of the house to see her female attendants walk down the aisle to the harp music. She was grateful again for Josey suggesting it, as it lent a more wedding feel to the occasion.

And then it was her turn, as she and James began to walk down the created aisle. She observed the guests for only a moment before she saw Cord, looking unbelievably handsome in a dark suit, his jaw freshly shaved and hair trimmed. When their gazes met, he smiled and suddenly she felt her jitters disappear, as she was filled with love. It was a dream come true. One she’d never dared dream.

 

Watching from one of the chairs four back from the aisle, Martin smirked. They all thought they knew so much but in reality, only he knew what this day would hold. Having grown as much beard as possible, no one recognized him. He had heard he was dead. They could wish, he snickered to himself. He had hidden that day, had seen Cord limp away and knew what they would think. They were so stupid.

His hate seemed to grow into almost an internal flame. He knew the cause of all his troubles had been her, the woman in the white dress, which should have been black for her black heart. He shifted in his chair, easing his gun from the pocket where he had secured it. He was glad he was a good shot as he wanted that white dress not only covered with blood but also the woman wearing it dead. He felt more joy at the thought. Killing her would provide satisfaction for all she had cost him. He didn’t care if he lived after that. He would possess her in death as he never could in life.e didn’t

 

 

 

 

 

The judge spoke simply when he asked if anyone had any objections, and if so, this was the time.  Martin edged past the other guests and said— “I do,” as he stepped into the aisle with the gun now leveled. He wasn’t ready to fire. He wanted to savor the moment. He saw shock on Priscilla’s face as she and Cord turned toward him. For once, justice was done, Martin thought, as he smiled more broadly and took more steps toward them.

“Never expected to see me again, did you, Marshal?” Martin said. He glanced briefly side wise. He concentrated on the two at the makeshift altar. The crowd had grown eerily silent, which suited Martin perfectly. Finally, they understood, him for the leader he was. He laughed. When he saw Cord edge toward Priscilla, he raised his voice to what might’ve sounded like a scream to others, but to him, it was the cry of the victor. “Move again, Marshal,” he said, “and I’ll kill her right now. You thought I died up there, didn’t you,” he said. “I outsmarted you. I lost my rifle when I fell but I landed under a crevice. I would have liked to kill you right then but turns out there were better ways. You took my woman. That’s theft.”

“He took nothing that was ever yours,” Priscilla said. She felt Cord’s hand as he tried to move her behind him. She resisted, not wanting to see Cord killed in front of her. Better if it was her.

“Well, you’ll be mine now.” He took another step forward only to trip as a long pole thrust between his ankles, throwing him to the ground. In an instance, Ben Albright lunged from his chair, grabbed Martin and lifted him in the air, the revolver fell from his  hands. When he felt himself thrown back down, the brute stepped on his hand, probably enough to break it.

“I can take care of this,” Sheriff Adams said as he moved forward to use handcuffs he’d brought with him to clasp Martin’s hands behind his back. As he came to his senses, he screamed out his rage. This was so unfair. “I’ll get him out of here,” Adams said. “Don’t want garbage like this to ruin a wonderful day like this one is.”

With the help of Ben and Ridge, he half dragged and half forced Martin to walk as he babbled about the unfairness.

 

Priscilla saw that finally the handcuffs Sheriff Adams always carried had been brought to good use. She tried to still her shaking. It helped that Cord held her, his own voice emotional. She still felt irked at how the sheriff had treated her after her kidnapping, but she had to put that aside also.

“Even a broke clock is right twice a day,” Cord said, having read her mixed emotions. That led to her giggling. It all seemed so unreal. Martin had meant to kill her an only an intervention had prevented it happening, that and Martin’s inability to do anything right.

The judge, a man of steel himself, said, “It’s time to take your vows.” Priscilla knew then she had to straighten her own backbone and managed a smile. Martin had been a bad mistake in her life, but he would go to prison now for the murder he had committed, maybe even be hung. That mistake was over, and cleared her voice to listen to the age-old words asking if she would take this man for her husband. That’s when she smiled. Would she. She resisted laughing. She heard the answering emotion in Cord’s voice and knew he’d repeated the words. Of course, she’d love him forever, until they were both old and gray. They’d gone through the fire together and now it was time for the joy. When Cord was told he could kiss the bride, he gave her a long, sweet kiss as he held her in his arms. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

“You too.” She said before turning with him to their audience, who were now all standing, laughing, and clapping. Whatever shock they had felt at what happened, it was gone with this reaffirming of the strength of love.

Cord turned to take Priscilla in his arms. “I should have gone down and taken him out up there. I am sorry.”

“And maybe gotten killed yourself with a fall. No, this was it was meant to be. And now he’ll pay for what he did to Sally, even though he got away with so much else.”

Sam growled as he came up to hug them both. “I told Abby I should have carried a gun.”

Cord looked then toward the one who had stuck out a long pole to trip Martin. Carlos Vega had just retrieved it, examining to make sure his prayer pole was undamaged. “Mr. Vega,” Cord said as he went down to him, his arm still around Priscilla. “We owe you more than we ever can repay.”

Vega laughed. “You two would have survived it either way but this was true justice with having the man tripped by his own evilness.”

“That is true,” Cord said as he took the older man’s hand. “And tripped by your goodness.”

Vega chuckled.

Priscilla managed a smile as she scanned the guests. “Time for our lunch, I think.” She laughed. They had survived again, as she knew they always would.

 

 

 

Hate: Where Does it Lead?

 image purchased from CanStock.

After writing about love in how it impacts life and my books, it seemed logical to look at its opposite and how does it impact life and fiction. What is the opposite of love? Some have claimed it's fear but I think it's hate. I thought it'd be easy to write about hate. Not so fast.

First of all, I have never personally felt hate for anyone or anything. I thought about this, long and hard after I decided to write about it. I am not sure I ever had anyone hate me either. If they did, I didn't know it. I do experience dislike and some claim that is on its way to hate. If it is, I never let it go that far on a personal level. I also don't worry too much if someone dislikes me unless they would take it to a physical level.

So what makes someone go to the point of hate? I see examples of it happening a lot in what I read is going on in the world and my own country. When people kill strangers, is that a product of hate? Do wars come out of hate, maybe of one nation for another. How about terrorism? Or even saying bad things about another, who may not be personally known but who the person hates? Does emotional abuse come out of hate?

Every so often, we read of a husband or wife killing their partner. How does love turn to hate or was it ever love? Was it possibly narcissism?  Using the pretense of love to get what one wants from another? We do see that a lot with frauds, but does that come out of the perpetrator's hate?

I looked for definitions of hate and found extreme dislike, among a few others, possible synonyms. What makes someone or even a whole nation go from dislike to the point of killing what they now hate? Or even someone resembling that object of hatred?

Probably I won't come up with defining hate, other than a recommendation. Do not let dislike turn to hate. Hate is generally more damaging to the hater than to the one they hate. I believe, like with love, hate is an internal feeling where one can enrich someone's soul and the other eat it up until they become effectively soulless.

If someone moves to hate from dislike, can they go back? I believe so when they realize hate is bad for themselves and the world. Unfortunately, some find hate empowering and don't want to go back to what I'd call the light and a healthier view of life. But if they wish to get rid of their hate, first stop going where hate is sold as a virtue. Beware of pundits who might claim they care about others, but who constantly spew anger and rage. Also avoid such people or groups. Look for where love, which is not remotely a weak emotion, is taught and expressed. You can't be fed one thing and hope to project another.

Where it comes to my writing, I often have villains in my books but rarely go very much into what turned them into one. I don't go into their backstories as I do with other characters. There was an exception in two of my novels. The character was in Beyond the Broken Road where he felt abused and constantly blamed others for whatever went wrong.. He returned in The Beckoning Flame where his hate and self serving (as he thought anyway) behavior had gone to another level entirely. That beckoning flame can be for good or not good. We decide what to follow. Sometimes, I think there can come a time when there is no further choice. The hater has lost any desire to change.

Next Saturday's blog will be out of a chapter showing how a flame that beckons us can lead to positive or negative results-- both for what love can do and unfortunately hate.

 

what love is

When writing romances, it's part of the deal to care about relationships and the subject of love itself. With a romance, the requirement is a happily ever after-- in short, it has to work out in the end. An example would be Pride and Prejudice where however unlikely it might seem, they're going to be with each other at the end of the book. 

image purchased from Deposit Photos.

With love stories, this is not necessarily the case. An example of that would be Gone with the Wind. One might hope he'd come back but didn't seem likely when the story ended.

Romances are fantasies, not to say love stories cannot also be, but one is satisfying even when it might not feel realistic. Still, does it seem believable that this couple would fall in love to begin or did the writer just throw them together and tell readers that it happened. The best romances make the reader believe, yep, it could make sense. 

I wrote one of my contemporary romances where it began with a couple divorcing, which one wanted and one did not. Divorces do sometimes end with a couple back together in what we call real life. Not always and definitely not needed in a love story.

Always when I begin a romance, I have in mind at least one of the protagonists. Then who seems likely for that happily ever after, with, of course, some major glitches along the way. That is required or there is no interest. When I come up with the second protagonist, I have to believe it's more than seeing each other and bam. If I don't believe in it, the readers will not.

Music speaks a lot about love-- sometimes as a romantic fantasy and sometimes with sad endings. I particularly like this song from the 80s where it speaks of someone wanting to know love, wanting to find someone to teach them.

I want to know what love is

Here's the thing about love. It's within us. Relationships in romances can begin many ways, from friends to lovers or even enemies to lovers, but the real life deals, which last. love for each other, and not in the romantic sense of the word but more the in depth caring for that person and what is good for them as well as one's own self.  

People looking for love in their lives have to be logical as well as emotional. Do I share life goals with that person? Do our backgrounds make it likely that we will understand each other? It can't be just lust, though that might be a beginning. If that's all it is though, don't expect it to last. Real love goes through good and bad times with a desire to work together for a good life. I try to write romances where that seems likely for the protagonists.

Romantic love is lovely in books, soothing to read through dark times, but the kinds of relationships that last take genuine love and that takes the emotion and logic to make it through the dark times-- and I believe all relationships have those. I know something about those long term relationships as I am in one. Not that I don't have dreams that add to what I write.