I first discovered Sabrina Jeffries in the checkout line at a Meijer store in Michigan over a decade ago. Seduced by the purple cover of a book that promised mystery, adventure and a happy ending, and grateful that the clinch cover art had been relegated to the back, The Dangerous Lord made it into my grocery cart. At home I let the groceries spoil on the counter while I devoured the book instead of foodstuffs.
I’d gotten hooked on romances during a six-month stay in France, where the only free things to read in English were some abandoned romance novels and a couple of Stephen King books that had been torn in half. Instead of learning French, I spent my time discovering that Jayne Ann Krentz and Betina Krahn were crack for English majors: fast and fun, leaving you wanting more as soon as the high wore off. It was only a matter of time before I started spending my textbook money on romances.











It’s wedding season at Buckingham Palace, an event that should set every devoted romance reader’s heart aflutter with anticipation.
What makes some romance writers so . . . delicious? One of the big reasons we keep picking up romances—and nearly 75 million readers do, according to 










