As I continue to write as M. O'Keefe, I find myself following darker story lines. Plots I might have flinched away from I now rush toward. Using sex as a tool to tell women's stories is endlessly fascinating.

When I started to write 'Crazy Thing Called Love,' I wanted a conflict that would not only bring Billy and Maddy together in terms of proximity and give them a common goal but that would also drive a wedge between them. And nothing fit the bill quite like the arrival of some children.

I, for one, love kids in my romance novels. When done right, kids add so much conflict. Not just of the 'interruption on the way to the bedroom' variety. But conflict about commitment and insecurity.

After church on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, my family would go chop down our Christmas tree. Once it was home and placed in its stand, Mom and I would painstakingly decorate our tree. It took hours to place the tinsel, string the lights, find the perfect spot for my favorite macaroni and felt ornaments from kindergarten.

Researchers warn us against walking out on married life without a dang good reason.

What I've learned about marriage: You need to have each other's back; you have to be a kind of team going through life.

I have no objection to well-written romance, but I'd read enough of it to know that that's not what I had written. I also knew that if it was sold as romance I'd never be reviewed by the 'New York Times' or any other literarily respectable newspaper - which is basically true, although the 'Washington Post' did get round to me eventually.

I know gay - gay people who aren't married who are better parents than some, you know, straight people I know who are married.