It was this book by Johanna Lindsey that ruined me for all other genres. I didn't intend for it to happen. I was... I dunno... 14? and had been plenty happy reading all the Christopher Pike, Richie Tankersley Cusick, and Sweet Valley High books I could get my hands on. It didn't occur to me until later that there was a love story in almost all of them. There was always a boy and a girl falling in love. Well, maybe "love" is a stretch (they were just teenagers, after all) but there was a serious crush, usually a first kiss, and an ending that left a possible future of Happily Ever After to the imagination.
Then I found The Magic of You in my sister's bedroom. She was 19. I thought it was all very scandalous and exciting and I immediately stole the book with the sole intention of seeking out the, ahem, "love" scenes. Hey, I was curious!
Except, while I was flipping through looking for those, er, parts, I found myself becoming more and more intrigued with the actual story. Eventually, I went back to page one and started reading.
Oh. My. God. I was in love. That was it for me. I was an instantaneous romance novel sucker for life. I never did give that book back to my sister. (And, T, if you're reading, you still can't have it.)
After that, there was no going back. God knows how many Johanna Lindsey books I went through, but let me just say this. Trying to buy them was a freaking nightmare. I was fourteen. When I needed another book, I had to beg my parents to take me to the bookstore. And at that age, having your dad take you to buy a book with this on the cover...
...pretty effing embarrassing. I'd pretend to continue browsing until he looked preoccupied enough for me to hurry and make the purchase. And, yes, I would like a bag.
It surprises me that I am so crazy about romance novels. Because, really, I'm not a touchy-feely-let's-declare-our-love-in-big-public-displays-of-affection romantic kinda girl. I don't like to dress up, flowers always die, chocolates just make me fatter, sex in real life is way different, and I'd rather talk things out than have the big misunderstanding-leading-to-heart-wrenching-reconciliation that I so love in my novels.
But, with that being said, I seriously can't get enough.
