Nothing says true love like the ideal Book Boyfriend . . .

Ah, February. The longest shortest month of the year. At home in New England, we're pretty much hunkering down, hoping that infamous rodent to the south doesn't see his shadow. (Or is it sees his shadow? Science, whether pseudo or otherwise isn't really my thing). Regardless, with no foreseeable end to winter in sight, what better way to escape the cold but curling up in front of the (admittedly electric. Thank you, Wayfair) fireplace with a book (rom-com, obviously). And, since that most venerable of corporate shilled holiday, St. Valentine's Day, is upon us, what better way to enjoy this better way than revisiting some former loves. Fictional loves, that is.

Throughout most of the year, my misspent youth was, well, spent pouring over Russian novels written by curmudgeonly men with questionable facial hair hoping that I would share a heart-shaped box of Russell Stovers with an only slightly less curmudgeonly man (preferably sans facial hair) who shared my love of depressing literature. Yup. My dreams were small and my budget more Burlington than Bergdorf. In February, however, I believed John Paul Young when he assured me that love was in the air. In February, I allowed myself the luxury of falling in real love with fake men and, to some degree, fake boys. Before book boyfriends had even entered the common parlance (OK, maybe not so common since I've had to explain the idea to my mother several times to assure her that I'm not cheating on my Russian literature-loving husband), I fell in love with these fictional characters, who I just can't quit.

So, for each remaining day of the month, I'm bringing back one of these crushes from my past, distant and not-so, Mystery Date style. I'll share with you the MMCs that make me laugh, cry, and, most importantly, SWOON.

Let the countdown begin.