Getting Married Again
(#1187 Miniseries: 9 Months Later)
February 1, 2004
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Michael's Father
January 1, 2003
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Melinda Curtis

Although I've lived in Georgia and Texas, I'm a California girl at heart. My earliest memories are of life on an isolated 50-acre sheep ranch in rural Sonoma County, California. Picture rolling hills covered in brown grass, a eucalyptus forest, a long gravel driveway lined with plump sheep and no sidewalks. It was a big deal to drive into town on a one-lane road in a ramshackle, bubble-fendered pickup for an ice cream.

Later, we moved to the suburbs of the San Francisco Bay Area where I was excited to discover children my own age living just across the street! My mom taught school and loved to take road trips in the summer. We drove to Montana, Death Valley, Mexico, up the Oregon and Washington coastline to Canada, and often sought relief from the Northern California heat by camping in Yosemite. Although I absolutely love road trips, my husband doesn't share the interest. There's quite a conflict when we get in the car together because I want to stop and investigate points of interest, and he's all about making the best time minus stops, except for bathroom breaks for the kids. Now, if I could just get the kids to pipe up with a potty request whenever I want to stop, I'd be happy.

I've always been an avid reader of just about anything -- romance, mystery, suspense, fantasy, biographies -- and always loved to write. My first romance was written for my friends in the seventh grade, featuring their heartthrobs, including, I believe, Leif Garrett. I don't know what ever happened to Leif, but I know he didn't marry one of my girl friends. She did, however, end up with her own hero, a man who makes her tremendously happy.

That's what I like about romances. There's always happiness at the end of that journey the characters are taking. It may be a comedy, suspense, mystery or drama, hot and steamy or sweetly romantic, but you're still guaranteed the happily-ever-after. So, I'll keep writing them. Besides, what better reason than "research for my book" do I have to make my husband stop on those long road trips?

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