Romance has always been a popular genre. That it accounts for almost half of all mass market paperback sales proves that readers prefer it (even if critics and academics don’t). The publishers of romance understand the needs of their readers, and titles from the newest lines say a lot about what kinds of plot twists readers expect today, and how specialized publishers have become. These books also point up the many difficulties over which love must now prevail in order to bring about a happy ending.

Your Baby or Mine? comes from Silhouette’s Bundles of Joy series. Readers might seek romances with a baby theme for many reasons, but if, like us, you spend much of your time caring for a flesh-and-blood infant, such fantasy might hit too close to home. Author Marie Ferrarella’s hero, Alec, seems to be a caring and attentive single Daddy – qualities that initially attract Marissa. But when a baby’s cry pulls them from the brink of passion, it’s she who comforts his daughter. Marissa then demonstrates an amazing ability to cook and clean for Alec, mind his two young children, and write her master’s thesis – all while pursuing a passionate relationship. Our brush with that particular reality suggests Ferrarella might be pushing the bounds of credulity – even for escapist fiction – a bit far.

Catering to an even more select market niche, Harlequin’s Boots & Booties series manages the unlikely juxtaposition of babies and cowboys, reconciling unlikely heartthrobs with unforthcoming heroines. The Next Man in Texas ably meets the expectations of a good romance – both hero and heroine are appealing, though also quiet, shy, and more than a little earnest. As for a storyline, well-delineated supporting characters rally around the ranch to amuse baby Mac while Jack and Grace try to figure out which of the many McClintock men might have fathered him. Author Kristine Rolofson’s prose style, unlike Ferrarella’s, is as simple and comfortable as an old flannel shirt.

Babies have become a romance staple, and even though Dr. Holt and the Texan doesn’t promise babies on the cover, the epilogue assures readers that even a beat-up ol’ rodeo rider and an adrenaline-addicted ER doctor can look forward to the pleasures of parenthood. Suzannah Davis creates dialogue with more authentic Texan twang than most westerns; Travis manages to say “darlin’ ” and sound like he means it. Even his mawkish observation that “the lady deserved better than a quick toss in the hay with a rambunctious cowpoke” conveys a gentlemanly side to his outlaw character.

In romance novels, sexual tension provides the spark between hero and heroine; this batch suggests that contemporary readers no longer settle for smouldering looks between doctor and nurse. Romance in the 1990s means pre-marital sex with an emphasis on what goes where and how often (usually twice, back-to-back). Romances used to lead up to the kiss, but now a commitment to marry is the final goal.

Harlequin has created a whole continuity series (Weddings by DeWilde) set in each of the stores of an international chain of bridal shops. Ironically, the family that owns these shops chooses elopements and trips to City Hall over white weddings, though matriarch Grace DeWilde still manages to bolster the lacy dreams of her blushing brides-to-be. Mystery furthers the plot of all 12 books in the series, though the resolution is secondary to the love interests. Reading two accounts of the family written by two different writers illustrates how much of the allure depends on strong pacing, a talent for sustaining credible conflict, and enough new metaphors to make the tropes seem familiar yet new. Romancing the Stones outshines I Do, Again, even though both tell the story of Grace DeWilde and her husband and daughter.

Mystery plays a more central role in Son of the Morning, a cross-over into historical fantasy. Set in 14th-century Scotland and today’s Chicago, the adventure manages to couple a hero from then with a heroine from now. The numerous sex scenes between them (enjoyed through dreams, until they discover time travel) point up how much the attraction in romance can exist on an unnameable level; these two have never met, but their personalities and passion are so powerful they cross time and space, proving that in fantasy, love does conquer all. It’s Umberto Eco by Pocket Books.

The choice of period and setting have always defined the subgenres of romance (ie. Regency or Gothic); more recently, romances seem to be echoing a trend of postmodernism, turning in on themselves in a kind of meta-romance, making fun of the genre without being in themselves funny. The Love & Laughter series, for instance, aspires to be lighthearted and romantic, but results in a kind of baroque self-indulgence in a genre that has marketed itself into a corner from which it can only escape through cynical self-mockery. But romance has always been about breaking free; when things are at their bleakest, readers will still demand a dark hero to come charging in to save the day.