Since before the written word, women have been falling in love with the men in stories. We are hardwired to go for the most masculant verial form of man, which are the men that end up in stories of old and new.
Even more so as a writer we get to mold and sculpt the men we create. Each muscle, expression, and scar appears in and moves with the press of ink on paper. We get to choose the way a man moves and what they say.
We pick our favorite features and exagerate them to a dreamy state of bliss. Every move, every touch is perfect to a fault.
We force our book boyfriends to be romantic, caring, intellegent, and able to kick anyone ass that needs kicking.