My favorite author (no surprise to my husband and children) is a Harlequin Romance author, Essie Summers. She wrote romance novels about strong men and strong women. The novels were based in New Zealand. This was back in the day when romance did not include sex and there would only be 2 or 3 kisses in the book. The women were all great homemakers who loved to work at keeping a house and taking care of children (usually nieces and nephews.) I love reading these stories still.
She wrote her novels many years ago and at this point, her books are no longer in print. If I find them on Ebay, on an on-line used bookstore, etc., I will buy them even if I already have a copy, because as you see mine are in varying states of repair (or do I mean disrepair.)
As I have read these novels many times, I used to wish that my husband was just as romantic. Then I realized maybe I was wrong about his lack of romance, but I'll let you be the judge...
While we were dating, I was also dating another young man. My future husband wanted to know exactly what was happening in my relationship with the other man. So, after a fireside that I attended with the other young man, my future husband rushed to my parents' home, parked his car a very discreet distance away and secreted himself in the neighbor's olive tree. He then waited and watched for our return home. My young friend and I arrived home and sat out in his car for 20 minutes or so. What were we doing? Reading the Book of Mormon. We went into the house for a while and then my friend left.
My future husband was ready to climb down, but the neighbors came out of their house and sat under the tree. He was stuck there for another hour before they went back into the house. By the time it was over, he had limb prints on his body at every point of contact.
The relating of this story after we were engaged was the point at which my mom realized that my future husband really did love me and she never worried again about our upcoming marriage.