Once upon a time, authors were told that there were certain types of heroes, certain characters, who were off-limits when it came to romance novels. Among those were football players, because it was widely accepted that women, who are the chief readers of romance, didn’t like sports and wouldn’t be interested in a story featuring a sports figure.

Times have changed.

Sports romances—whether we’re talking football, hockey, baseball, swimming or any other popular athletic activity—are no longer taboo. Some of the most popular books flying off the shelves today boast an athlete in the starring role, and it’s not just the male leads who’re the game changers. Often the heroine rocks cleats when she’s not in stilettos.

So what’s different?

To be honest, I wasn’t sure. As an author, I don’t write to trends, and I’ve never paid attention to people who told me I couldn’t write about <insert character type here>. It’s part of the beauty of being indie or hybrid. And as a woman, I’ve always been a football fan. No one informed me that women weren’t supposed to like football or baseball or hockey, and my dad raised me to appreciate sports.

For me, writing a story that features a tight end as the male lead didn’t feel much different than writing one that included a carpenter, or a chef, or a college professor. The job contributes to the character, but it doesn’t necessarily define the romance. A sports figure might be more likely to struggle with injuries and a life in the public eye, but that’s merely another aspect of the plot. It doesn’t have to be integral to the storyline.

On the other hand, the game is rife with romantic opportunities. Take your typical football player: he’s in his twenties, with a seriously-built body and the know-how to use it. And then remember that women are not only fans now; they’re also working in the front offices and in sports broadcasting. The typical female lead in a football romance isn’t a cheerleader or a bimbo. She’s a strong woman with a career of her own that may or may not intersect with the game.

The truth is that football, whether it’s high school, college or pro, is attracting women fans at an incredible rate. At some point in the last decade or so, we began to realize that it’s cool to admit we enjoy the game, instead of pretending that we’re only interested in the tight pants and broad shoulders, and now women fans make up nearly 50% of the NFL’s fanbase, according to numbers released in 2014 (Washington Post). The league caters to its female fans, with marketing and merchandising aimed at women more often than ever.

It stand to reason, then, that if we’re passionate about the game and the players, their stories are what we want to read.  When I’m watching the game, I’m interested not only in what’s happening on the field, but also what’s going through the minds of the players, their wives and their girlfriends. I want to eavesdrop on what the coaches and staff are talking about on the sidelines. I want to know what the players do after a big win?or a devastating loss.

When I read sports romances by Kristen Callihan, Sarina White Bowen, Elle Kennedy or Jami Davenport, that’s what I’m getting: a little peek behind the scenes. When I write books like my own football trilogy, it’s what I’m giving my readers. It’s also why I’m hooked on the Amazon Prime series All or Nothing, a season-long documentary about the Arizona Cardinals’ 2015 season. It’s the drama, the humor and the heartache—not coincidentally, all essential elements of a good romance.

Female fans, I might venture to say, are more well-rounded in their appreciation of the game. We get the rules on the field, don’t worry–but we also know who’s married to the quarterback. We’re going to scream and shout just as loud as the next guy—but we also might tear up when the receiver who just caught a TD pass blows a kiss to his girlfriend in the stands.

Come to think of it, that peculiar juxtaposition of teamwork and true love just might be why so many of us have fallen for football romances.

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Don’t forget!

You can preorder Book 3 of the Keeping Score Trilogy

Days of You and Me

And you can also see an exclusive sneak peek there.

As we draw closer to the September 27th release of Days of You and Me, I’m sharing a series of personal love stories (from my family and friends). Today’s is very special.

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Harry Thompson was born in Philadelphia in 1905. He was the second son of Jesse and Annie Murphy Thompson; Annie had been born in Ireland and immigrated with her family. Their oldest son, John, was just under a year when Harry was born. 

During her pregnancy, Annie, who was only 25, was diagnosed with breast cancer, which was almost always fatal. Baby Harry was born covered in sores, apparently, and had to be carried on a pillow. He came into the world in July, and by December, Annie was dead. 

Jesse raised his sons in a series of boarding houses in the city, with the help of a few friends. He never married again. 

Harry left school and began working when he was fourteen years old. When he was eighteen, he met and married a woman and had a son, but the marriage didn’t last. 

Meanwhile, on a farm in South Jersey, in June of 1911, a second daughter was born to Harry and Elinor Shute. This farm had been in the Shute family since David Shute bought the land from William Penn in the 17th century. Marian June was raised in a large family of eleven children, in a strict Methodist upbringing where cards and dancing were forbidden. She was close to her big sister Ida and her younger sister Evelyn.

In 1935, Marian took a job as a secretary in Philadelphia at an insurance company. It was the middle of the Depression, and jobs were scarce. While working there, she met a handsome young paralegal named Harry Thompson. 

Harry was taken by Marian and enjoyed visiting her family’s farm, where he was welcome by her large family. Now, what did Harry Shute think about his daughter seeing a divorced father of one? We don’t know, but I can’t think he was thrilled. 

Harry and Marian decided to get married, but at this point in the Depression, in this company, a married woman was not allowed to continue working. So they had to wed in secret, so that Marian could continue working. 

On August 19, 1936–eighty years ago today–Harry and Marian, along with their two best friends, slipped down to Ocean City, NJ, where they were wed in the Baptist Church there. They kept their marriage a secret for at least a year! 

Over the course of their marriage, they raised three children–Richard, Robert and Eleanor. They had seven grandchildren and a myriad of great-grandchildren.

Harry was an old-fashioned man who held the family to strict standards. The women did the cooking. No jars or containers were allowed on the dining table: everything had to be in a dish. His concession to helping was making the toast every morning at breakfast, manning the toaster which was alongside his chair at the head of the table. 

Harry worked as a paralegal well into his 80’s. Although he kept retiring, he also kept going back to work. His second son joined his long-time law firm in 1979 as a lawyer and became a partner in that firm a few years later.

In the late eighties, the family noticed that Marian was becoming forgetful. Tragically, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. But Harry did something no one had expected: he stepped up and refused to relinquish care of his wife to anyone else. Until her death in August of 1999, Harry cared for his Marian with love, patience and gentleness. It was a beautiful example to the entire family.

After her passing, Harry remained active with his yard work and gardening. He made chocolate chip cookies for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He told stories, and every Halloween, he hosted the big family gathering, calling ahead to order the pizza weeks in advance. 

When he passed from this life in June of 2002, it was in peace, as he went to join his Marian. 

This was the story of my Nana and Sa. Harry was called Sa by his grandchildren, thanks to me. He was a bit of a smart-ass, and when I was born, he told me, “Call me Sam.” I couldn’t say Sam, so I called him Sa, and Sa he remained. 

When I was little, I remember Sa saying to Nana, as he had their whole life together, “Stick with me, sweetheart–you’ll wear diamonds!” She never did have a diamond–even her engagement ring was pearl–but he gave her a greater gift than that. His love and faithfulness was something I will never forget.

I miss them so much . . . in my kitchen is a tea cart that sat in their home all my life. Even I see it, I remember the love in which these two wonderful people raised me. Their home was the true home of my heart. 

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Come tell me YOUR love story. Go here and share your personal love story. You’ll be entered to win the contest: prize is a $50 gift card AND the chance to have your love story included in Days of You and Me. (Names and details can be changed at the discretion of the winner and the author.)