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I have a confession to make. I was driven to write romance by giant bugs and killer rabbits.
I just couldn't take it anymore! My husband and sons would be camped in front of the television watching a movie about spiders the size of bowling balls, and I'd be wondering when the handsome scientist would get around to kissing the spunky woman with the bug spray. When it didn't happen, I decided to write my own happy endings – without the giant bugs.
That was in January 1999 after a cross-country move from California, where we've ridden out earthquakes, to Virginia, where me and my family enjoy the history of Washington D.C.