My Interview w/Autumn Piper
Regina: Who or What inspired you to write?
Autumn: We were living in the desolate Mojave, north of LA, and on our way back there after a trip “home” to Colorado, I saw this deserted, boarded-up truck stop. For some reason, I came up with this story idea, about a woman in Witness Protection who gets dropped there and has to make a go of the business…and it so happens the DEA agent who put her there has a little thing for her.
Since I was fairly depressed about my life at the time, writing the story provided a great escape—and I got “hooked” on writing romances.
Regina: How long did it take you to write your first book?
Autumn: About 3 months. But since it was about 3 times as long as the average publisher would accept, I’m still paring it down, 7 years later.
Regina: What is your favorite genre to read?
Autumn: Hands down, romance. I do like a good suspense now and then, and confess Stephen King is in my top 3 favorite authors.
Good things may come to those who wait, but trouble waits for no one…
Cheating is a dealbreaker...or so Mandy’s always thought. But when she catches her husband getting some “strange,” she realizes how hard it is to cut and run, or even file papers. She agrees to a month of counseling, which will give her time to grieve the loss of her marriage before she has to tell the world—and the kids. Then she meets Adam, who gives her a hunky--if mysterious--shoulder to cry on, and that thirty-day waiting period seems like an eternity.
Adam has no problem confessing that he’s watched Mandy from his window for months as she runs by his house. If he told her why, though, she’d freak out for sure. He knows they’ve got a future together, if he can think of a way to explain his past. And he’s sure the rat-bastard who cheated on her is putting the moves on her again, but he won’t be the revenge guy. The month-long cooling off period she agreed to is lasting forever, and might just be indefinite, if trouble keeps getting in their way.
Warning: Eccentric old lady pushing salt-of-the-earth advice, bossy big brother, kooky counselor, super-secretive hunk, and perfect justice served amidst adult situations and language.
I doubt Baldwin understands my resolve, so I explain. “I’m only here because I’m stalling Mike until after the holidays to separate.” Or was Mike stalling me? I’m not sure anymore. “I have no intention of ever sleeping with him again, and I want a divorce.” That should be clear enough.
His bushy brows shoot up. I’ve piqued the wanta-be therapist’s interest. “Why do you feel that way?”
God, could it be more simple? “He had sex with a woman we know, while I was in the same house! Anybody, even one of the kids, could have walked in on it! It makes me sick to think of him touching me.”
“Do you still love him?”
Jesus, did Mike put him up to asking that?
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t forgive him for what he did. I’ll never forget what I saw, it comes to me at all hours of the day and night.”
“So you do still love him, but you’re angry, possibly jealous of his having another partner without your consent.”
Without my consent. This guy probably advocates swapping and threesomes, all the fun and games, as long as both spouses consent. I snap my gawping mouth shut.
Good ole Baldwin looks me straight in the eye. “What if you were to have an encounter with an outside partner, to even the score?”
Is it the smoke from the candles or his suggestion making me choke?
“You mean like a revenge affair?” Stampeding thoughts of Adam shred my calm like buffalo through prairie turf. I feel flushed.
* * * *
As I clomp past Adam’s back fence, a very wet snowball clobbers the back of my head. I react in time to see a second tightly-packed missile heading at my chest, and move aside without a moment to spare. Adam thinks he has an advantage hiding behind his fence, but he doesn’t expect me to charge straight for him and run through the gate so he can face me like a man. In his yard, we wage silent war for several minutes. The only audible evidence of the battle is the splatting of snowballs exploding on impact, and an occasional grunt as we bend our old bodies over to form our weapons.
I’ve been stockpiling mine, awaiting opportunity. Which just arrived. He’s bent over, packing and rounding a huge ball. He must think there’s some Snowball Fight Code of Ethics, and I won’t attack if he’s unarmed.
He’s sadly mistaken. I launch my stash in quick succession, until his entire backside is white. He waves his snow-whitened glove in the air, begging, “Truce, truce!”
“You started it, troublemaker!” I cautiously approach, making sure he’s going to abide by his truce and it’s not an ambush. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright.
“I see the wheels turning, tell me what you’re thinking,” he prods softly.
“How lucky I am that I met you at just the right time.”
“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?”
It makes me giggle, while he hugs me hard against him. With all our outerwear, it’s more of a big squeeze than a hug.
It’s time for me to go, and as I back out the gate, Adam says, “I’m crazy for you, remember.”
I answer with, “Me, too. Bonkers. Nutso.” I turn and run.
Author Bio & Links
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