I’m not falling for the same old “I’m single so I have to be miserable on Valentine’s Day” schtick. I’ve always been a sucker for love stories.

One of the first romance novels I ever read as a kid was Wings by Danielle Steele. I can vividly remember reading it at my grandmother’s house in Brooklyn when I was twelve, maybe thirteen. And yes, this book totally gave me “the talk.” This and the first five pages of a Judith Krantz novel (mistake. Traumatized for years afterward)…