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In honor of Valentine's Day, fourteen Romance Authors wrote about their first
dates --- their best memories, and what they would rather forget. We hope their stories
help you conjure up your own special memories!
  Suzanne Brockmann, author of INTO THE NIGHT
His name was Albert, and it was love at first sight. For both of us. Of course, we were only five. But it was a deep love—we were inseparable at school for all of kindergarten and first grade. Shortly after we met, I invited him to my house to continue whatever game we'd been playing at recess. He was thrilled and quickly accepted. This was back in 1965—when kindergartners regularly walked home from school alone. It was a nice, sunny day, so off we went.
When we arrived at home, we went right into my backyard. I had this really terrific swing set that was great for playing pirate ship, and we quickly set sail.
I'm not sure how long we were out there—I think it probably was a significant amount of time, though.
Because I do remember my mother running out of the house, swooping down on us. Whose little boy was this? Does his mother know he came home with me? Albert and I looked at each other. Uh-oh. It never occurred to either one of us that Albert's mother might actually miss him... We ended up calling Albert's mom (who, yes, was frantic!) and driving him home.
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  Leslie Carroll, author of REALITY CHECK
I attended a very progressive private prep school. No one dated there; students traveled in packs. We had to take "ethics" classes, which as teenagers we referred to as the "sex, drugs, and social pressures" sessions. When I was in tenth grade, the ethics teacher was appalled to learn that, somehow, one of the guys in the section (a real jock) and I (the drama queen) had been going to school together for five-plus years and had never even exchanged pleasantries, let alone gotten to know one another. The teacher suggested, in front of the entire class, that this guy take me out on a date. We went to see the Paul Newman hockey movie Slap Shot, and this guy spent the entire duration of the film running his nails along the length of my arm. I guess he thought that was supposed to turn girls on. I couldn't wait for the movie/date to end and as soon as it did, I dashed out the door of the cinema and straight onto a bus, waving my thank yous from the window.
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  Susan Carroll, author of MIDNIGHT BRIDE
When I was a teenager, I used to visit my married sister Dorothy in the summer. Danny lived across the street, a boy with twinkling eyes, a great sense of humor, and the proud owner of a minibike. He often took me for rides and on my birthday, he took me out for pizza and bought me a Snoopy and the Red Baron record. Afterward, we sat out on his front porch, under the interested view of much of the neighborhood kids who pronounced Danny "a slow mover". But that was okay because so was I. We were both fourteen and to me that first date is a warm memory of a sweet and more innocent time.
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  Dee Davis, author of MIDNIGHT RAIN
Not sure if it qualifies as a date exactly. But it was my first kiss, and a date of sorts. I was in the eighth grade, and my boyfriend was the quarterback of our football team. My father didn't allow me to go on official dates, but this particular evening a friend was having a party, and my boyfriend was allowed to walk me there. It was a cold November night and although another guy was walking with us, it was still very romantic, and once we got to the party definitely had a date-like feel. What I remember most was the "make-out" room. A place where couples could kiss in the dark. As a parent I shudder, as an adolescent it was wonderful! My first kiss was remarkable, and I remember it to this day. Carole King's I Feel the Earth Move was playing on the stereo and it was a magical moment. I thought I was in heaven. Later, he walked me home again, and I honestly believe the stars were twinkling just for me. It was a wonderful night, particularly poignant because we moved just a few weeks later, and I had to leave him behind forever. But I'll never forget that night, or him.
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  Gaelen Foley, author of LADY OF DESIRE
I don't really remember my first date (I guess I wasn't all that impressed!) but I do remember the exact moment I met my first serious boyfriend. I worked for a stable as a young lass, and was exercising one of the horses in the beautiful park adjacent to the farm, when suddenly, from out of the woods burst a handsome boy a few years older than me on a black horse. He had jet-black hair and dark eyes, and really long eyelashes. He asked me if he could join me and I rather breathlessly agreed. I should have known that, as a boy, he'd try to show off. He tore around the park like a maniac and I nearly broke my neck trying to keep up. It was love at first sight, even though he was a rich kid with "the Third" after his name. <g> We ended up dating for four years.
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  Jane Graves, author of WILD AT HEART
How about the worst date ever? When I was in college, I had a blind date with a guy who showed up in a maroon leisure suit, black and white striped shirt, cowboy boots, and a western belt buckle the size of a dinner plate, who also turned out to be ten years older than I was and divorced. I suggested a club on the outskirts of town because I was sure I wouldn't know anyone there, only to look up to see a friend of mine waiting tables. Our table. I wanted to introduce this guy as my fashion-challenged uncle or something, but I didn't think that would fly. As the evening progressed, I discovered I was in the presence of the king of all male chauvinists, so I countered with a point of view that would have made Gloria Steinem proud. By the time the evening was over, he had ceased to labor under the impression that I was a woman he would be interested in. It took me a long time to be on speaking terms again with the friend who set that one up!
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  Jill Marie Landis, author of LOVER'S LANE
My first ever-date was a group date in junior high. No, not me with a group of guys, but a bunch of girlfriends meeting boyfriends at the old neighborhood movie theater, the kind with a balcony were everyone went to "make out."
Our parents dropped us off, never knowing what was going on and I was terrified the whole time that my mom would find out. The movie was one of those old Frankie and Annette Beach Blanket films and living in California, I naturally imagined I was a cool surfer babe.
One thing I learned that night was that it's nearly impossible to kiss and watch a movie at the same time.
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  Linda Francis Lee, author of LOOKING FOR LACEY
My first date would probably have to have been when dreamboat Mark B. walked me to the Minute Market. Of course we were in grade school, so I'm not entirely sure it counts, but outside of the store he gave me a heavy gold chain (think Mr. T, probably pilfered from his mother's jewelry box) with a little gold purse hanging from the end. Inside he had put a quarter to buy candy. I wasn't sure if I should be thrilled or insulted.
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  Laura Moore, author of NIGHT SWIMMING
My first date was, of course, a disaster of epic proportions. I was in high school and my date invited me out to a posh restaurant to celebrate my birthday. I remember going through the ritual of emptying out my closet as I tried to find just the right thing to wear (I probably thought that if I dug deep enough, I might unearth some slinky dress straight out of Charlie's Angels). For the life of me, I can't remember what dress I finally chose, only that I decided to wear heels—high heels.
Anyway, my date showed up with a long-stem red rose (he was a lovely kid, and so well brought up). When he gave it to me my heart went all a flutter. As neither of us had our driver's license, we took a taxi to the restaurant.
Back then, hip, stylish restaurants had a certain 'look' to them. This French one did, too, with a dining room that was circular and sunken.
I remember walking toward the dining room, next to my date, a proud, happy smile lighting my face, the red rose in my hand. Walking just ahead of us, the maitre d'hotel turned to us and said, 'Watch your step."
Yup, you guessed it. I stepped into thin air.
I have to tell you three things that have always eluded me—the art of sneezing quietly, crying beautifully, and falling gracefully.
I landed like a sack of potatoes at the base of the steps and the entire dining room went utterly silent. I do remember that my date was very nice about it—I can imagine a number of guys who would have just kept right on walking—disavowing any connection to the oaf sprawled on the dining room floor. He and I have actually remained very good friends, although we didn't get married and have the 2.5 children I'd assumed we would.
Thankfully, the rest of that first date remains a total blur!
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  Maggie Osborne, author of PRAIRIE MOON
Maurice (gag) and I were both twelve. He invited me to the Saturday matinee, and Mom said I could go. I wore a dress and my first pair of high heels. He wore a coat and tie. We didn't say three words to each other while walking to the theater. He sat with a bunch of boys. I sat in a different row. After the film, he smiled and waved, and left me to walk home alone. Dating impressed me as wildly overrated. LOL
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  Candice Proctor, author of BEYOND SUNRISE
Ok, I'm not doing this. You never know—he might read this (or his mother, or his sister…).
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  Mary Jo Putney, author of THE BARTERED BRIDE
I think I'd rather forget! I grew up in farm country in Upstate New York, and the Future Farmers of America club was very big in my high school. The president of the FFA that year was a friend of mine and he needed a date for the FFA dance, so he asked me to go because we were buddies and I was safe. He was a sweetie, but very shy with girls. A romantic night it wasn't!
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  Patricia Rice, author of McCLOUD'S WOMAN
My first-ever date was a kind of "gang" date in high school. The guys decided to take me and several of my close friends out to dinner before the pre-game dance. Unknown to us, they pooled their money and decided they had just enough to pay for a Friday special at Shoney's. The Friday special was fish, and the first thing I did was object to the menu and ask for a burger that happened to cost a dollar more. The guys were completely embarrassed and wouldn't admit they couldn't afford that little bit extra. Taught me not to look a gift horse in the mouth!
Independent as always, I offered to pay the difference, but the guys were gentlemen and refused. Apparently, I was ahead of my time!
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  Barbara Samuel, author of NO PLACE LIKE HOME
I'd had my heart set on a boy in my civics class since the beginning of the year, he finally asked me out just after Christmas. I'd had little romances before, but never had a boy come to the house to take me somewhere, and my father was strict about how it had to be done—he had to come to the door, come inside, shake hands. It made me very, very nervous.
My sister, fourteen months younger than me, and always good for…um…helping me to avoid taking myself too seriously, knew the boy very well. They had a joking, teasing relationship at school, but I didn't know this. The boy rang the bell, and my sister LEAPED up to answer it, flung open the door, and screamed, "Not you!" then fell to the floor in a pretend faint.
I wanted to die or maybe murder her. But Brien, though he was blushing to the roots of his hair, simply stepped over her, nudging her with his foot on the way over, and held out his hand to my father. "Hi," he said, to my father, who was struggling very hard not to die of laughter himself.
We did end up dating most of high school. I figured anybody who could handle my sister could handle anything.
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