My name is Amy Andrews and I am a hopeless, unashamed believer in love at first
sight.
The romance genre takes a huge hit over these insta-love storylines with critics
decrying it as anything from dribble to anti-feminist to setting up unrealistic
expectations for women.
WOW!
Thatβs a lot of pressure on a writer when they sit down to tell a story about
two people falling in love (or three or, you know, a person and a
werewolf/vampire/alien or whatever your particular hankering). I tend to think
making women stay at home and cook and clean and pop out babies and have the
pipe and slippers ready for when the man came home from work is/was a ridiculous
societal expectation for women. Or, on the flipside, telling us we can have it
all which just means we get to go to full time work but are still expected to do
all the other stuff, too, is also kind of crazy.
Love and how people do and donβt do it, not so much.
I can tell you why
I never listen to the people who tell me insta-love is
a crock and itβs not because I often write books where people meet and fall in
love pretty damn quick but itβs because I knew the moment I opened up my door as
a sixteen year old to a twenty year old blonde spunk that I was going to marry him.
I shit you not.
I hadnβt yet said a word to him - not even a hello β but I was a goner.
Now here is where I need to clarify that Iβm not a person given to flights of
fancy. Most people who know me would probably describe me as pragmatic - even as
a teenager. I donβt believe in a lot of woo woo stuff. Iβm pretty much a
show-me-the-evidence kind of a gal. Iβve never astral planed or convened with
spirits.
Fine if thatβs you. I have no problem with you believing/doing whatever it is
you do. Just sayinβ itβs not me.
But that day all those years ago it was like I was having an out of body
experience. I could almost feel myself floating above my body and shouting down
at myself,
βHimmmmmmmmmmmmm!β
Ah, but I hear the critics say, "Thatβs just sexual attraction."
Lust. Hormones. Pheremones. Good old teenage horniess.
But it wasnβt. I was
sixteen. I didnβt have a freaking clue what lust
was. I had read quite a few romance novels by that stage in my life where
brooding bosses lusted after their virgin secretaries, but Iβd had no personal
experience of lust with a man. Sure, Iβd liked a few guys, checked heaps of them
out drooling and giggling over them with girlfriends. I went out with some and
even shared a few heated kisses, but this guy was different. He hadnβt said a
word to me, and I was feeling feels Iβd
never felt before.
I didnβt think,
oh lordy, lordy I want to rip this guyβs clothes of and do
him sooo bad. I simply thought
with every cell in my body β him. Heβs
the one. Iβm going to marry
him.
When he left I said to my friends, thatβs the guy Iβm going to marry. And I did.
And weβve been together pretty much from that day to this.
So I believe in it because I
know it happens. And think about it, is it
really that hard to wrap your head around? Quantum physics, how a freaking
aeroplane manages to stay in the air, the conflict in Ukraine. These are all
things that are difficult concepts.
Since when did love become such a difficult concept? Critics decry insta-love as
a complete fantasy (and hello that is one of the reasons why women read and
love romance) like itβs some kind of mystical force or being. Like aliens
making crop circles or a freaking unicorn. Like it doesnβt exist. Like itβs
unattainable. And it is true, most people wonβt have an instantaneous
experience. For some it will take longer. Weeks, months, years and thatβs fine.
But it can happen in the blink of an eye too. And that, I am here to tell you,
is pretty freaking glorious.
Giveaway
So, what say you? Insta-love yes, or insta-love no? Iβd love to know everyoneβs
thoughts. Iβm giving away a copy of
NO MORE MR.
NICE GUY (the book before
ASK ME
NICELY) to one person who leaves a comment.
About ASK ME NICELY
She craves what only he can give her. But he's not giving in without a
fight...
Veterinarian Sal Kennedy's lost her mojo and is desperate to get it back. In
fact, as the anniversary of the tragedy that destroyed her life looms large,
she'll do anything to erase the painful memories, including overdoing the
tequila and making a pass at the most annoyingly inappropriate man on the
planet. Fellow veterinarian Doyle Jackson is her flatmate and her employee and
therefore strictly off-limits.
Unfortunately, Doyle knows how to bring the goods and make her mojo sit up and
beg. Doyle is only too happy to oblige Sal in her hour of need, but then she
demands more, and she's perfectly happy playing dirty to get it. He wants more,
tooβmore than just sex, that is, and it's something Sal's not willing to give.
But Doyle is in this for the long haul now, and he's prepared to fight even
dirtier to get what he wants. Even if that means they both keep losing all their
clothes in the processβ¦
About Amy Andrews
Amy is an award-winning, best-selling Aussie author who has written forty +
contemporary romances in both the traditional and digital markets. She has
written for Harlequin Mills & Boon, Entangled, Harper Collins, Momentum and
Escape. To date she's sold over a million books and been translated into
thirteen different languages including manga.
She loves her kids, her husband, her dogs, cowboys, men in tool belts, cowboys
in tool belts and happily ever afters. Please, DO NOT mess with the HEA! Also
good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel - preferably all four together.
She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view
but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.
To keep up with her latest releases and giveaways sign up for her
newsletter.
Yes , But it doesn't always work both ways. Thanks for this giveaway , I'm keeping my fingers crossed .
(Joan Thrasher 1:09pm March 4, 2015)
I guess it can be insta love... my mom knew the moment she met my dad he was the one... it took him a while longer...
(Colleen Conklin 3:21pm March 4, 2015)
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