I Love Men by Dana Pratola

I love men. I love ‘em all – the tall ones, the handsome ones, the ones who think they’re God’s gift to women, the mama’s boys and the ones who couldn’t get in touch with their emotions if Love sent them a certified letter with return address and directions. To me, fictional heroes (and villains) are, the most interesting component of the romance tale. Women are usually the hub of the story, and with good reason – they are the characters we identify with, worry about and pull for. But I know them and how they work, even if it makes no sense, lol.

Men, on the other hand are simply fascinating, like some woodland creature you’ve seen in pictures a thousand times, but one day it decides to come up to you and eat out of your hand. You think you know what to expect, but when you’re this close, and the initial uncertainty is overlaid with plain awe… That’s what I want to read about. Don’t mistake me, I’m not saying men are animals! Just intriguing beings. I love to read about all aspects of the male persona, whether it’s his quirks, his workout regime or how insecure he is about a first date. I know how the heroine feels about the man that just wrung her heart out like a moist paper towel, but what’s his side?

Where, but in romance novels will you find a man laid bare (as it were) so as to allow a glimpse into his “masculine realm”, dispelling the notion of men being shallow or easy to read? Some would argue that since these novels are usually authored by women that I’m not reading about men, but rather a woman’s perception of men. To those people I say… true. But who knows men better than women?

BIO: Dana Pratola lives in New Jersey with her husband of 25 years and 3 children. When she’s not writing she’s reading or hiking through the woods. You can find her at her website www.danapratola.webs.com.


EXCERPT from Pratola's new release, The Covering:

“It’s a nice day,” she said, looking up at Gunnar’s dismal expression.

He kept moving.

A police car passed and tooted the horn. Tessa waved at Kevin Moore, one of many boys she’d gone through school with who went on to become a police officer.

“Are you going to say anything?” she asked Gunnar.

“I’m thinking.”

She was about to tell him he should have thought it out first, when he pulled her behind a fat oak.

“I thought I knew,” he said. “But when I get this close to you I want to…”

Kiss you, her brain finished for him. She trembled at the dark intensity in his eyes. She waited for his lips to meet hers.

“…choke you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t handle betrayal well.”

“Excuse me?” she repeated, clueless.

“Is there a problem, Tess?” Kevin asked through the passenger side window as he glided his cruiser to the curb.

Tessa didn’t see the car swing around, but apparently her disappearance behind the tree wasn’t missed. “No, Kevin, we’re fine.”

The cleft in his chin deepened when he smiled wryly. He lifted his wire frame sunglasses to better assess the situation, and Gunnar. “You’re sure?”

“She said she’s fine,” Gunnar ground out.

Tessa saw Kevin stiffen in his seat. He was perhaps seconds from getting out of the car.

“Be quiet,” she told Gunnar, and walked to the car and leaned in
the window. “Wow, that’s something,” she told Kevin when he took off the glasses to reveal his newly acquired scar.

“Yeah, that’s what I get for breaking my fall with my face.” He gingerly touched a hand to his brow. “Fifteen stitches.”

“Poor baby,” Tessa said sympathetically. “But chicks love guys with scars.”