by Christine Wells
I was flicking through an old 'Woman's Day' magazine last night looking for collage pictures, incidentally catching up on WILLS & KATE'S BABY SHOCK and meeting Rachel Hunter's TOY BOY FIANCE, when I came across a disturbing sight. (Yes, more disturbing than Rach's toy boy, can you imagine?)
There, smiling his toothy grin at me in full-page colour, was my darling Sven the Swedish Masseur in all his whiter-than-white glory. Lending his impressive physique to the endorsement of a commercial product -- therapeutic sandals!
Now, as many of you know, Sven is a resident of our lair with duties that are manifold and (to our minds) utterly vital, ranging from keeping those naughty cabana boys in line, to doling out massages to crippled deadline cavewomen that fall just short of torture, to riding shotgun when we rowdy ones go raiding other people's blogs. He also provides a friendly foil to his brooding brother, Lars, but let's stick to the point, shall we? I'm sure I have one around here somewhere...
Oh yes. The knife through the heart pain of betrayal I suffered when I saw Sven selling out like that. Why? Why? said I. Why did you do it? Couldn't you have at least modeled for Armani if you were going to stab us in the back?
Sven looked down at me from his Alpine height and said nothing. He's not usually the strong silent type--that's his brother Lars--so I knew we really had a problem.
I sighed and started again, extracting the whole sorry story like an abscessed tooth. But the answer was quite simple, really. Sven didn't feel appreciated any more. Last month, we Banditas raided Romance Novel TV, the place where Sven and I first met, and we didn't take him along. Daily, we venerate that cocky rooster, who does nothing but preen and chat up the ladies. We leave Sven in the lair for months at a time, then wheel him out for a bit of a cocktail mix and a party when someone has a book launch.
He's starting to feel used.
It's just not enough any more.
So today, I need your help. How can we show Sven we care? What crazy, tedious, wonderful things have you done for love? I'm not talking about fancy gifts, I'm talking about the day-to-day ways you show you value someone. If you're a writer, how do you show that special love between the hero and heroines in your novels?
Sven's favourite answer will win a pair of maseur sandals...um, no that was a joke. Sven's favourite answer will win the perfect appreciative gesture--chocolate!