In 2010, when I’d fallen deep deep deep into the wonderful world of romance novels (as an adult), my husband got curious. “What do you love about them?” he asked. “,” I answered. As I read more, he commented on how happy I was when I finished a book I’d especially enjoyed. He claimed–and was right–that reading romance . He’d stare at me, in some annoyance, as I laughed aloud while we were quietly reading. Finally he said, “.”

After giving it a ridiculous amount of thought, I gave him . He devoured it. After that, he read , and, still his favorite, . He began to recommend books to his patients and hectored–unsuccessfully–our sons to read one. (“It will help with with women. I PROMISE.“)

He read about ten of them and then, he was done. He returned to his beloved mysteries–there isn’t a Jack Reacher book the man hasn’t read–and that was that.

But his reading romance did help him with this woman, and, I suspect, with his female patients as well as his daughter. It altered, in lovely ways, how he saw sex and love. Romance novels for the win!

Today, if I were offering him a romance novel for the first time, I’d probably suggest –he’d find the medical stuff interesting–,  –he does love sports–or, given his love of mysteries, .

But really there are so many.

Not all men are interested in reading romance although it’s clear from our commentators here that many do. But for those who don’t whom we wish would, what would you recommend and why?

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