I like reality. I’ve always felt like a good dose of the here and now will keep a soul grounded. Although it works well for me, it seems it might not work well for others. I was reminded recently that romance writing needs to dwell in fantasy, the heroine being promised a whirlwind lifestyle of fancy restaurants, travel to exotic locations, yacht excursions and the like. Romance writing isn’t supposed to be about a regular Joe with a good job sweeping your average Jane off her feet. And don’t even consider the hero who might be struggling, or even worse, unemployed and penniless. Apparently, whether he’s a good guy or not, that’s not a girls dream come true. I like regular Joes. I know a lot of them. Billionaire playboys, secret agents, deviant athletes, and swash-buckling matadors have yet to cross my path. Most of my heroes have been regular Joes. Only one or two happened to have bank. The others were just standup guys you wouldn’t throw out of bed because they dropped a cookie crumb