How I got started writing - by Devon MaKay
I’ve always written stories, although not because I wanted to be rich or famous. I simply wanted to get my crazy thoughts down on paper because they kept me up at night. And then when these thoughts formed into an interesting story…..I wanted to share. As far as getting published? I’d like to spin a beautifully, romantic tale of how I’d simply sat down one day, wrote the perfect story, and got a contract immediately. But the truth is, it doesn’t work that way.
I got lucky. And I didn’t quit.
After years of submitting my work, I never gave up hope. I’m not saying it was easy. It wasn’t. Rejections have a way of shattering your dreams and making you second guess yourself. Although, I refused to let the doubts circle for long. I had a story to tell. My obstinate way of thinking came in handy. And believe me, I am as stubborn as they come. When I get an idea in my head, I’m like a freight train without brakes. In this case, it was a good thing.
Fortunately, I came across The Wild Rose Press and liked what I read about the company. TWRP was exactly the kind of publisher I wanted to print my story. Immediately, I submitted my story. My editor, who happens to be amazing, read it and saw something in my writing. What I learned on my journey? With an unrelenting desire to write and share a great story, a stubborn streak a mile long, and a little luck, dreams can come true.
Cowboy On The Run
By Devon McKay
Running from a torrential past, Nate Walker had never planned on returning to a town where the only good thing had been a brunette-haired beauty with more compassion than he deserved. Finding himself on a ranch for boys facing the same issues not only taught him how to be a man, it taught him that there was more to life than running away. However, coming back for what he left behind was going to be anything other than easy.
Nate always did know how to make an entrance once again turning Jessie Calhoun’s routine life upside down. Unfortunately, he’d also had the same impact when he left her mending a broken heart in a cloud of dust and taillights. But this time would be different. No longer a gullible, naïve girl, she’d be a fool to fall under his spell again. Especially now that she had more at stake – two very important reasons.
Even after all these years, the sound of his deep, raspy voice still gave her chills, and she hated herself for this lack of control. Her breath caught in her throat as his nearness caused a surge of excitement to course through her veins, overcoming the last little bit of her perseverance.
Sinfully, Jessie allowed herself to relish, only for a moment, what they once had. She caught herself inhaling his manly scent – a distinct mixture of leather and masculinity. The heady fragrance rekindled faded memories she’d tried like hell to forget.
Flashes, like scenes from a movie, of a time when they had been inseparable. Nights spent holding hands and staring up at the stars in the back of his beat up pickup, the dreams they’d shared, the hay barn, the creek…
“I’m not leaving here without you,” he stated, leaving no room for argument.
As if she could. The thought filtered away as quick as it appeared, replaced by the blissful heat of his mouth scorching the tender flesh of her neck. She closed her eyes as the longing she’d denied for years returned full force.
A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine and she abandoned all thoughts. He reached for his hat, his body leaning into her and pulling her out of the lust-enhanced stupor.
She opened her eyes, drawn to a bouquet of small, purple flowers in the spot where the worn Stetson had been. A forgotten memory jilted her senses as she stared at the wildflowers, unsettled by such a romantic gesture.
“Not this time,” he said huskily, interrupting her thoughts and seducing her with his words once more before making his way out of the bar.
About Devon McKay
Devon lives on a farm in Ohio with her very supportive and patient husband, not so patient teenage son, two dogs, three cats, horde of long horned steers, flock of chickens, and a trio of pygmy goats. When she’s not rising with the sun to take care of the daily chores, she’s settling down with a good book or in her den writing her next novel.