On Oct 1, 2008 Lucy King was announced as the winner of the Mills & Boon FEEL THE HEAT writing contest. And in October 2009, her first book BOUGHT: DAMSEL IN DISTRESS will hit the shelves in the UK, and in North America January 2010!

Lucy’s here to blog about her experiences as a writing contest winner to published author. We hope it inspires you with dreams of what your diary might look like if you win the Harlequin Presents Writing Competition 2009!

by Lucy King

18 July 2008 – Oooh, how exciting. It’s competition time again. OK, so I’ve submitted stuff to Richmond in the past without much success, but I’m going to ‘Feel the Heat’ and give it a go anyway. After all, you’ve got to be in it to win it, right? (Hmm. Note to self: get cracking and make sure entry is cliché-free.)

15 September – After weeks of writing, revising and polishing, Chapter One and synopsis are done. Would like to think have ticked all the gorgeous hero/sparky heroine/deep internal conflict/sizzling sexual tension/catchy opening scene boxes, but who knows? Proof-read one last time, take a deep breath and hit the send button.

30 September (evening) - Bit gloomy. Re-read my entry a couple of days ago and am not convinced my Chapter One is any good at all. I mean, who’s going to want to read a story about a girl who finds herself up for auction on the internet anyway? The premise is utterly ridiculous. In fact, am not sure now that any of the above boxes are ticked. Plus, it’s littered with adverbs. The word ‘just’ appears 14 times. 14 times in one chapter! I’m doomed. No wonder the phone hasn’t rung. How presumptuous was I to hope it might? Think I’ll go and find that emergency supply of chocolate.

Oh. There’s the phone.

Hang up five minutes later in a state of shock. I won. I think. Can’t really remember much about the conversation other than, ‘Hello, this is Joanne Carr from Harlequin Mills & Boon.’ After that it was all a bit of a blur, but I’m pretty sure… I have an editor!! Apparently Chapter One wasn’t so bad after all! Celebrate with husband and champagne and decide to treat myself to a new coat the colour of crushed raspberries and sparkly navy eye-shadow.

October 2008 – Eventually come down off the ceiling and I speak to my editor, Kim. Send her the first three chapters of my story. Then I wait. Start a blog and produce a few posts, but write very little as am stumped until I hear what she has to say. Discover whole new virtual world of fun, interesting and wonderfully supportive friends.

8 November – Yay! Receive an email from Kim with her very insightful comments and approval of the partial. Official delivery date for the full manuscript is set for 12 January. Hmm. I have a think and decide would like to aim for before Christmas. Tentatively suggest 22 December. Kim says she’s away from the 19th so how about pencilling in the week before that? Alarmingly close, but I cross my fingers and agree.

November/December – Was I insane?! I now have 40,000 words to write in five weeks. Agh. OK, here goes… Write, panic, delete, write, mustn’t forget the day job, write, print, read, revise, panic, print, proof-read, send, collapse.

Christmas 2008 - Thank goodness for Christmas. Two weeks of relaxing with family and not thinking about my book. Am not expecting to hear anything for months anyway.

8 January 2009 - Just get through the front door when the phone rings. I answer, there’s a pause, so (suspecting it’s telemarketers) I say ‘hello’ again, only rather more crossly and much more loudly. Am mortified when Kim identifies herself, introduces Anna, tells me I’m on speakerphone and to wait a second while she turns the volume down. Heart thumps. Don’t know what I’m expecting but it’s certainly not what comes next: they love the story and want to buy it. Am gobsmacked. They’ve actually read it? Words like ‘congratulations’, ‘revisions’ and ‘contract’ filter through the astonishment while I babble and scribble notes on the back of an envelope. Am having a bit of an out of body experience which lasts long after I put the phone down (six months in fact). Husband finds more champagne while I ring parents. Mum says can she have a signed copy? Dad vanishes mid-conversation in search of family tree and possible pseudonyms.

A week later it’s official. Still can’t quite believe it, despite the deluge of congratulations and welcomes, and the subsequent whirlwind of activity. Keep wanting to tell everyone that dreams can come true, but unfortunately have sworn off clichés.