If you’ve read my books, you know that I don’t follow the damsel-in-distress-is-saved-by-Prince-Charming model. Yes, I like a heroic man, but I don’t want my heroes’ merit to be based entirely on their status as a Prince. My heroines are the royal ones, and because you’re in their head, you get to see their flaws and insecurities. It’s more fun for me to write that way.
This isn’t book stuff, or author stuff, but it’s very near and dear to my heart.
Remember last time, when I talked about my awesome sister and her awesome husband and how we’re trying to help them with the cost of adoption?
I have a sister.
She’s compassionate, wonderful and talented. She’s married to an amazing man who’s held her up and cried with her as they’ve battled through the aching and sorrow of infertility. They’ve held hands and cried tears of joy as they discovered their IVF treatment gave them a baby, then sobbed with the kind of grief I’ll never know when that miracle was lost through a miscarriage. Then they did it all over again. Three rounds of IVF. Two joyous pregnancies. Two heart breaking miscarriages.