The Music of Love Writer

You may wonder what breasts have to do with romance. Just ask any warm blooded, or should I say hot blooded male what a pair of female breasts do for their libido. I've conversed with males whose eyes were conversing directly to my breasts. Women spend time and money in plastic surgeon's office to enhance their breast's size.

As a romance writer I may describe a woman's cleavage, heaving breasts, or the passionate swell of breasts during lovemaking. But as a woman, breasts have another meaning to me besides being part of a physical romantic scene. Breasts are on my mind due to the high incidence of breast cancer in my family. I lost my beloved mother to breast cancer.

Tomorrow I go for my yearly mammogram, and hopefully find my breasts to be clear of any hint of cancerous cells. The night before my mammogram I remember the days when my mother was fighting her battle and pray I don't have to walk in her shoes. I perform my hundreth and one, self- breast exam of the night and question my finger's touch on my flesh, sensing so many abnormal areas. I pray for another year of a positive clear scan. Each year becomes less easier as I approach closer to the age my mother was diagnosed.

I love my breasts, I adore my cleavage, their shape in my brassieres. Breast cancer's still attacking women, even though we've made progress and have more survivors. We still need a cure to eradicate this disease, affecting women's health and so many of our family's lives.

I'd like to write a romantic story and not have the fear of breast cancer stirring in the back of my mind. Maybe soon, hopefully one day a cure will be found before my daughter, or your daughters have to perform this same bizarre ritual. I know I'm not alone.

The End