On average how long does it take you to write a complete manuscript?

That is an interesting question. The answer varies depending on length of the story and how busy I am. I don’t get much done during conferences and things, but it takes generally between 3 and 4 weeks. I usually get a really good start on the manuscript and then the middle takes a little longer. I pick up steam once I reach the final half to third of the story because I have made my decisions by then and it’s a matter of getting the story out.

Some stories are harder and take longer than others. For example suspenseful stories take longer because of the detail and mystery that needs to be worked out. And there are times when a story is so emotional for me that it can overwhelm me a little and I have to take it slower. Love Comes Silently was one of those stories as was Noble Intentions because of the historical elements involved.

Taming the Beast took three weeks to write because the story flowed like water. I was really inspired and the characters didn’t fight me. They wanted their story told.

Dante sat at his desk, looking up from his work and right at the framed picture the kids had given him. Every time he took a break, there it was. When he’d told Roberts to find an appropriate place to hang it, he hadn’t really meant on his office wall right in front of him, where he saw it every time he looked up.

For the last two weeks, he’d seen it and even stopped to gaze at the children’s drawings of themselves, and damn it all if he didn’t think of Beau and his intense eyes every time. Beau wasn’t handsome, or even generally good-looking in a conventional way, but he had spirit and fire and was willing to let them show. Dante had done his best to bury himself in work and in the preparations for his upcoming trip to Europe. He’d originally planned to leave in a week, but orders and the work they’d need to do at the plant to fill them had delayed his trip. So instead of going to London first, he’d moved that stop to last and kept the rest of his itinerary intact.

Roberts knocked and then entered Dante’s office with a tray. He set a cup of coffee on the edge of the desk, along with a plate of cookies. They were the oddest-looking cookies he’d ever seen, more oblong than round and a little lumpy.

“Did Harriet make these?” If she had, he’d begin to wonder if she was starting to slip.

“No. These were sent to you from the children.” Roberts pointed to the drawing on the wall. “Apparently you were nice to one of them at the dinner and he wanted to say thank-you. He and his friends baked some cookies for you, and Mr. Clarity had them sent over.” Roberts left the office, and Dante picked up a cookie and took a small bite. They were good, if a little dry, but nice with the coffee.

He looked up once again and saw the picture. “Roberts…,” Dante called, and his office door opened, Roberts entering once again. “Please call the Community Center and tell Mr. Clarity that I’d be willing to volunteer… say, on an afternoon or evening later this week, to help out.” Dante smiled because he knew that somehow Roberts had a hand in this. “In fact, we’re all going to volunteer, including Harriet.” Misery loved company, after all.

“Very good, sir. I’ll make the phone calls and schedule it.” Roberts turned and left the office.

Dante went back to work, strangely excited about seeing Beau again. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or one of the stupidest notions ever conceived. But it would make Yates happy. Yes, that was it. He was doing this to help improve his image in the community.

Dante told himself that over and over that afternoon in the hope that he’d eventually come to believe it, but he wasn’t sure it worked.