Today is my twenty-sixth wedding anniversary. Did I think on that day last century that we’d be married so many years later? I think I did. I knew after our first date that we would get married. Was it love at first sight? No, did I know we were going to wind up married? Yes. I’m glad I was right. My husband has been a very good friend over the years. He puts up with all my quirks—to be fair, I put up with his as well.

He’s been very supportive of my writing career, even though he doesn’t read my books. “What? He doesn’t read your books?” Nope. He’s not much of a book reader. He’s more of an article kind of guy. This is fine. I write steamy romance, and he likes to golf. I’m very OK with each of us having our own passion projects, which might be part of why we still get along!

Our wedding anniversary is usually a crummy weather day, and sometimes it even snows. We got married on April 2nd because I won a trip to Hawaii. You see, back when people listened to local radio in their cars, radio stations had all kinds of contests to lure listeners. I entered a contest to win a trip to Hawaii. When I sent in my postcards. (Yes, you didn’t enter online; you wrote out and sent in postcards, and they mixed them all up and manually picked a winner. Then you had to call the station within thirty minutes to claim your prize.) I told my then-boyfriend that I had a feeling I was going to win.

I said, “If I win, do you want to get married in Hawaii?”

He said, “Yes.”

And the rest was history!