5 Questions For...Denise McDonald

Today the Sizzling Pens welcome romance author,Denise McDonald.
Denise is the author of six books with Samhain Publishing: The Cowboy Plan; Second Chances; Trading Faces; The Inn Crowd; Deadly Mistakes; and Her Passion as well as one book with Cobblestone Press: Ghost of a Chance; all available now.
She started her writing career at the tender age of eight. Her stories have changed over the years, but not her love for telling tales. She lives in Texas with her husband, four young boys and two dogs where she juggles her time between writing, carpool, Cub Scouts, sports galore and a multitude of crafts.
To learn more please visit her website at: www.denisebelindamcdonald.com or send an email to her at: denise@denisebelindamcdonald.com. This month Second Chances was released in print from Samhain Publishing! I’d like to give away a print copy to one of the commenters.

1)How many manuscripts did you write before you sold one?

I wrote my first two manuscripts (longhand) when I was pregnant with boy #4. At the time I knew not the first thing about the publishing world. Over the next year I inputted them into the computer and edited (and edited and edited) and joined RWA. Shortly there after, I wrote another book after a retreat with my RWA chapter. Once it was polished, as well as one of the first novels, I sent them off and eventually sold them both (the other book will never see the light of day *VBG*). So, I guess long answer short 3.

2)Which book was your hardest to write and why?
Hardest to write. Hmm. Probably the one that won’t see the light of day. It was all over the place with the “rules” and while it’s a complete story, I think it’d be too much work to get it to a saleable piece. I think of it as my practice manuscript as I was still getting my rhythm as a writer.

3)What do you think is the most difficult thing about being an author?
Patience. Absolutely. The writing is the fun part and I enjoy it more than I can say. The publishing process, the waiting around while you shop things… that’s rough.

4)What authors have most inspired your work?
From the get go, Nora Roberts, Mary Higgins Clark and Karen Robards. I have been writing in one form or another since elementary school, but when I read those ladies, I realized I wanted to tell stories like theirs. I like the way they piece together the characters lives and draw the reader along for the ride.

5)What are you working on now?
I have just completed an armature sleuth book (hoping to make it a series)—a slight departure from my romance novels. I have finished the first book and have started on the second. I will be polishing it up and sending that puppy out soon. I am still writing romance novels too, but it was fun to work on a character that falls into all sorts of trouble.

Excerpt: SECOND CHANCES

With one finger, he pushed the Stetson back on his head. A wisp of dark brown hair fell from under the hat.
“Ma’am. Is there something we can help you with?” he asked; his dark, dark brown eyes softened as he smiled at her. They were the eyes that had haunted her dreams since coming to Paintbrush.
“I…ah.” All of a sudden her breath caught and her knees jellified. Weak-kneed. She couldn’t believe it. She’d read about that flaw of damsels in romance novels, but she’d never actually known anyone afflicted by it.
No man had ever made her want to collapse in a heap onto the ground, much less had she ever been rendered stupid. Zan cleared her throat, “I’m looking for Doc. She asked me to drop something off for her.”
“Ah, yes, you must be Suzanne Walters, the wonder assistant.” An odd look crossed his face, but he immediately hid any and all expression, making his face neutral. He leaned forward, extending his hand. “I’m Jacob Bowman, the ranch foreman. And this is Hank Calhoun.”
She stared at Jacob, then her manners kicked in. She reached out and gripped his calloused hand and took a long deep breath—musky. She fought off a moan as warmth shot up her arm and she let go abruptly. “Zan.”
“Excuse me?” Jacob’s forehead scrunched.
“Please call me Zan. It’s short for Suzanne.”
“Zan it is. Doc’s up at the house. Lisa made them take the pup up to her room.”
“Thanks.” Zan left the two men standing by the barn. When she stepped up on the porch leading to the house, she turned to find them both staring at her with openly curious gazes. Her stomach did a little flop and heat crawled up her face as her eyes locked with Jacob’s chocolate brown gaze. A charming grin spread across his face and he tipped his hat.
“They don’t grow them quite like that in Texas,” she said under her breath, pulling the door open. “Too bad I’ve sworn off men,” she reminded herself.

“Damn, what a looker, that one.” Hank nudged Jacob.

Jacob hadn’t moved since one Miss Suzanne call-me-Zan Walters had disappeared into the Cates’ house. He’d dreamed about the woman every night since she blew past him at the diner.
Clad in a pair of tan pants and one of the funky hospital-type shirts all the vets wore, she shouldn’t look sexy as hell, but she did. The red highlights in her hair shone like fire in the setting sun, more so than the first time he saw her. Hair that still looked wild and arousing, like it might look after spending the night in bed. He could barely contain the groan that wanted to escape.
Had Jacob detected a flash of wonder in those gray eyes of hers when she looked at him—almost as if she’d been surprised and happy to see him? That was just stupid. He didn’t know her from Eve.
He sure as hell never imagined she was Doc’s new assistant.
When Hank nudged him again, somehow Jacob managed to find a small amount of composure and tore his gaze away from the back door.
“What’s gotten into you, boy? Never seen you dumbstruck before.” Hank’s voice was filled with amusement.
“Nothing.” Jacob couldn’t believe what the brief encounter with Suzanne—Zan—did to him. He’d fantasized about her for two weeks, and then to see her standing in front of him, he didn’t know how he’d managed to stay on his feet.
Shaking clear his thoughts, Jacob stalked past the old hand. “I need to head out to the back pasture. Willard thinks a fence may have gone down.”