Romance is the sweep of desert wind across the plain, the proud stance of a warrior surveying his dry kingdom.
Reality is the sweep of the Hoover over the rug because DH just tracked in mud.
Romance is a Khamsin warrior's dark gaze burning into the heroine, making her tremble with anticipation.
Reality is the dog staring at me when I'm trying to write a love scene.
Romance is Tarik gently wiping away Fatima's tears after she's had a disturbing psychic vision.
Reality is me sighing as I clean up the carpet because I couldn't forsee the dog was about to yark.
Romance is Tarik telling Fatima, "Surrender now, Tima. We will be lovers. This I promise."
Reality is DH telling me at 5 p.m., "Hey, I promised Robert we'd have dinner with him tonight. Forgot to tell you."
Romance is a fierce Khamsin warrior, devoted to his lady, vowing to protect her to the last drop of his blood.
Reality is the roofer vowing to take every last drop of our money, and yeah, we'll start in 4-5 weeks.