Welcome to my blog. For those of you who haven’t stopped by before, I’m a romance author. I write everything from what reviewers have called ‘page turning, edge of your seat suspense,’ to contemporary romance with a touch of suspense. My books vary in heat levels. Some are sexy, a few are scorching hot, but all have a happily-ever-after.
I do love to spotlight other authors here, of all genres, so feel free to have a look around. If you’d like to comment, and I’d love for you to do so, just click the ‘Comments’ at the top of the entry.
Thanks for stopping by, and remember...
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
~ Marcus T. Cicero
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Sarah Grimm is a wife and mother of two—five if you count her much-loved dogs. She resides in beautiful West Michigan, near the white sandy beaches of Lake Michigan.
The youngest of four, Sarah can’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. In fact, her siblings believe she began writing in utero to pass the time. As a child, Sarah wrote constantly, littering the house with bulging spiral notebooks and ignoring the ribbing of her mother and sister who routinely said romances? in a somewhat scornful tone. Little did they know, Sarah would go on to win a 2011 Readers Favorite Award for her romantic suspense, Not Without Risk, and her interracial contemporary romance, After Midnight would both final in the 2012 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, as well as win the 2012 Romance Through the Ages Award.
Vivacious and imaginative, Sarah spends much of her day managing the family marine repair business while listening in on the lives of her characters. In the evening, she writes it all down, weaving the story as she goes. She says this method works well for her, except on the days when her hero and heroine insist on a steamy love scene while she’s answering the telephone or doing the taxes!
When asked what he thinks of her choice of genres, Sarah’s husband grins wickedly and answers, “It makes for interesting evenings.” Hmmm..
Sarah Grimm: Romance Addict
Hello, my name is Sarah Grimm, and I’m an addict. I read my first romance when I was twelve years old. I don’t recall the title, you think I would with something that changed my life so dramatically, but I don’t. The title doesn’t really matter does it? Because it was just the beginning for me. That one book led to another, then another. Pretty soon I was devouring romances like my life depended on them. Somehow, I didn’t see anything strange about that.
One day my mother walked into my room without knocking and she caught me reading. I dropped that book so fast, tucking it under my thigh so she couldn’t see the cover! But I wasn’t fast enough. My mother knew what I was doing – reading romance in a ‘mystery’ house.
She kept an eye on me after that, locating all the paperback and hardcovers in my closet and under my bed. She told me I had a problem. I told her I couldn’t stop – even to make her happy. Instead, I lured her into my world. I gave her her first romance, then her second; her third. She is stronger than me – romance never took control of her the way it did me.
I began reading romance everywhere: curled in the corner of the couch while the family watched television, in the back of the classroom while the teacher talked biology. I didn’t need to learn biology, I had romance novels. I couldn’t get enough – the promise of happily-ever-after, of love being enough to heal all wounds.
In no time at all my addiction grew stronger. Just reading romances wasn’t enough. Suddenly I had this urge, this new and frightening, uncontrollable urge…to write. I wasn’t strong enough to resist. Who is? I began carrying a notebook with me everywhere I went. A notebook I filled with dialogue and partial chapters, story ideas and possible titles. Some days it got so bad that the world around me faded away. While my friends enjoyed the sun or the lake, I wrote.
It’s hard for some people to understand, this addiction to romance. I’ve endured the odd looks, the smirks, and even those that say “You’re poisoning your brain with that stuff.” Well guess what? If stories that celebrate falling in love, emotion and commitment are poison, I don’t want the antidote. I love the stuttered heartbeats when the hero and heroine first meet, the gut punch of sexual awareness. My heart races with the sweetness of that first kiss, and the momentary panic over the realization they’ve fallen in love. I thrive on the idea how even at the worst of times, at those moments when you least expect it, two people can find love.
Yes my friends, I’m an addict, and happily-ever-after is my drug of choice.