Tuesday, April 24, 2012

HIS WITNESS TO EVIL **********************************************************************************Last week, I shared John's backstory. Now, I'll share Stephanie's.

Startled by a crash, Stephanie woke and fell from the couch to the floor. The boom reminded her of the episode last winter when a car skidded into their front porch taking out a corner post. Gripping the leather cushion, she sat up, swept her hair from her face and stared into the darkness that was her living room. The red display of a digital clock on the entertainment center read three forty-two.

Another thump vibrated the floor seconds before the door which lead to the garage burst open. Light spilled across the carpet. Gene was home, finally.

“Damn kids.” His words were slurred and the alcohol he’d consumed over the last six hours while at his weekly poker game preceded him by about twenty feet.

More rattling.

“Stephanie, I’m caught. Get this damn thing off of me or I’ll—“

“Will you keep it down?” She scurried to her feet and hit the switch to the high-hat lights above the fireplace. “The kids are sleeping. They have to get up for school in two hours.”

“This is my house and I’ll yell at them for leaving their freakin’ bikes lying in front of the door anytime I want.”

Em’s bike had been parked against the wall where. Gene probably knocked it over making his not-to-steady way inside. Arguing with him while he was in this state of mind would do her no good. He’d only get more boisterous and eventually wake the kids just to scold them for something that was his own fault. God, she was tired of Gene’s partying. He was married and a father. Would he ever grow up?

The sadness which filled her cemented the truth in place. He never would.

Gene fell forward and she grabbed him under his arms before he hit the floor. As he struggled to free his foot from between the railings of Em’s bike, he leaned on her. “My, God. How much did you have tonight? You didn’t drive home, did you?”

Em’s bike clattered against the garage’s concrete floor. “Damn straight I did. “

“You’re drunk.”

“So. “

Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of their wedding portrait and wondered where that happy, young couple went wrong.

Disgusted, she pushed Gene away. “So you’re a cop.”

“Yeah." He shrugged and then scratched his stomach, pulling his tee shirt up over the flat abs he worked hard to maintain. "Don't worry. The guys won't ticket me.”

She folded her arms across her chest in order to keep from reaching out and strangling some sense into him. “What about hurting yourself, or God forbid, someone else?”

“I didn’t, okay.” With dithering steps, he made his way into the kitchen and flipped on the lights. “What’s to eat?” He barked over his shoulder. “I’m starved. Rosie got pissed with Tony and threw the pizza we ordered at him. ”

Steph raced after him hoping he wouldn’t reach the pots and pans before she could block him. His buddies probably ordered the pizza after midnight and the delivery guy woke Rosie’s seven-year-old twins. Poor Rosie.

She stepped between Gene and the stove. “Why don’t you go get a shower and I’ll—”

His frown turned wolfish as he grabbed and pulled her close, grinding his hips into hers. “You’re hoping I’ll fall asleep aren’t you?” He nuzzled her neck. The strong smell of beer turned her stomach. “After I grab a couple eggs, I’ll be ready to take care of you, babe. Why don’t you whip them up for me?”

Not in the mood to be manhandled, she pulled away from his clutch. “Stop it, Gene. I’m not in the mood for your games.” Stephanie turned only to be stopped by the bite of his fingernails on her arm.

His eyes narrowed. “I said I’m hungry.”

“And I want a divorce.” She yanked her arm free. “See who gets what they want first.” ******************************************************************************************* Will Stephanie find love again?
Available at Amazon & B&N

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

John's Story

A look into John's past.

John Dolton crashed to his knees in front of the inferno that consumed his life.

His heart pumped against his sterum with strong, wild vibes, but his brain felt starved for oxygen. How could that be?

Heat like tiny flesh straved piranhas gnawed at his skin. He gulped against the pain. Roasting air seared his lungs, expanding them until his chest felt as if were about to explode.

He didn’t care.

“Damn, John, snap out of it.”

He blinked and focued on the face in front of him.

“Come on, man. You’ve got to get back.” He heard his partner’s cry but Luke’s voice was diffused, coming at him from several directions.

Something looped under his arms and yanked him upward, lifting his dead weight off his knees—the ones that had given way when he’d seen his life gone. The heels of his boots marked the tarmac with duel tracks as he was drugged away from the wreckage. He didn’t fight. He couldn't. Every muscle in his body had died. His gaze remained on the windows of what once was his SUV.

Staring beyond the flaming bizarre tongues licking at the vehicle’s roof, he saw his wife and little girl as he had left them only ten minutes ago. Happy. Laughing. Anticipating a long overdue family vacation.

“Why?” A screamed like that of a savage, wounded animal rivaled sirens.
He searched the faces staring at him. Wide-eyed, brow ceased, sad faces stared back.
Had the horrendous cry come from him?



He had to save them.

Adreline surged through his veins and John pulled from the force that pulled him back.

Luke’s grip tightened.

“Let me go. I've got to try.” John twisted and swung a fist at his partner’s jaw, but Luke ducted in time.

Pain ripped through John's shoulder as Luke grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

“They’re gone, John. You can’t save them.”

The agency’s emergency response team raced around the inferno, but John knew in his heart they were too late. He was too late. He had failed to keep Julie and Katie safe.

John caught a glimpse of the smothering arm lying on the sidewalk against the store front a moment before a fireman covered it with a white plastic sheet. A silver band encircled the tiny wrist.


John swore a fiery rod stabbed his gut. He clutched his ribs and a second later, he hurdled the egg-muffin he'd consumed an hour ago.

“We’ll get them. I promise you.” Luke’s voice shook as he held John. “I swear. I will die before they get away with this.”


John fell to the sidewalk. Cold laughter mingled with the taste of vomit in his mouth. Luke nor he knew who they were.

They had taken his reason to live. When he found them, they would wish this day had never happened.

Available at Amazon and B&N.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Things Are Poppin'

Welcome to my world. This morning was beautiful, so I thought I'd shared some of the sights I saw while I walked.

The Dogwood tree is blooming.

And the apple trees.

This is one of my favorite places to write.

There is magic in storytelling. L. Allende

The Johnnie Jump-ups are jumpin'.

The wild carneys (Yellow Finch)are back.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a great weekend!

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Where Did You Read?

Before B&N, before Borders, before Walden Books, before chain stores had a book section, people went to the library to pick out a book to enjoy for an afternoon or two weeks. A hardcover book. Only the wealthy had shelves of books.

I’m not wealthy, but I do have shelves of books. I have enough books to keep me reading non-stop for years. I have so many because 1) I’m an avid reader. 2) I can afford a mass-market book now and then. 3) I’m a writer and I’ve received many books from writer friends and conferences. And, I need to research the market so book purchases are sometimes necessary. I’m lucky.

However, there is nothing like walking into the library, smelling the volumes of paper, running my hands over the bindings and rejoicing that so many stories are there for my taking. It’s a high, I tell you.

It saddens me that there are those who cannot afford to purchase a book, much less an electronic device to download a free book. Books are essential for education of our youth, ourselves. The library is very important to them. Who knows, a future president or a future doctor who cures cancer, or someone who might marry your child, could be one of the masses that use the library today. Education is important to the well-being of our society and that is why it’s important for us to support our libraries.

Because of the poor economy, governmental funding for our libraries is stagnant, while operational costs are increasing. Yes, I know, what you are thinking. I can’t afford to give to another charity. But could you pack a lunch a few days this week and donate some of the money you saved to your library? Or could you take a few of those books on your shelf and donate them to your library. Is your library planning a fund raiser, maybe a bake sale or basket raffle? Could you donate items? Do you have an hour each week to donate your time? A lot of little aids add up to huge supports.

This week is National Library Week. April 8-14. Please consider helping them to help others.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Happy Easter

Happy Holiday everyone! I'm taking the weekend off to be with family. I hope you enjoy your weekend. Be safe. AJ

PS: remember the sale on His Witness To Evil ends soon. Check blog below for links.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Everything is Blooming... Almost

April 5, 2012...

Last week, I shared what was blooming in my backyard and many of you (even though you didn't comment) seemed to like peeking into my world. So I decided to show you more of what is happening here in NE PA.

Remember the Flowering Pear tree.

Now the Plum tree has sprung.

And the peach tree.

The garden is starting to sprout. I weeded this week.

The strawberries are vining. I can't wait to June. YUM

He gets out now and then. We have to keep a watch on this guy. LOL

The Rhubarb is growing like mad. Rhubarb custard pie is favorite.

Here is the recipe. Maybe you can use it for your holiday dinner. Yummy.

1 cup sugar, 1 cup milk, 2 Tablespoon flour, 2 egg yolks < Mix well

Add 2 cups Rhurbard. (You can use blueberries but really give rhurbarb a try)

Beat 2 egg whites until they peak. Then fold them into mixture, gently!

Pour filling into an unbaked pie shell> 1 10' deep dish.

Bake for 10 minutes at 400 and then turn heat down to 375. In about 45 minutes, insert a knife into center. When it pulls clean, the pie is done. Enjoy!

Flowers are popping everywhere. Little ones first.

I hope you enjoyed seeing what is going on in my back yard. Thanks for stopping by and remember His Witness To Evil is on sale this weekend for .99 at Amazon and B&N. I hope you enjoy!

Here’s the link to Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/His-Witness-To-Evil-ebook/dp/B007MBA1O0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332340994&sr=1-1

Here's the link to B&N:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/His-Witness-To-Evil?keyword=His+Witness+To+Evil&store=allproducts

Tuesday, April 3, 2012


I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
William Butler Yeats.

We all have dreams. We began dreaming at an early age; wishing for a pony, or to romp in the ocean, or to sleepover at a friend’s house.

As we grew older our dreams changed. Maybe instead of a pony, we wished for a car. Instead of romping in the ocean, we wanted to drive around night with our friends in our own car. And maybe instead of a sleepover, we want to go away for a whole weekend, in our car.

And as the years drifted by, our dreams became something more than just material things or superficial wants. They became an extension of ourselves and define who we truly are.

I’ve wanted to be a published author from a very early age. I wanted to daydream and use those dreams and ideas to entertain others. I get satisfaction from putting words to a page, and I’m overwhelmed with joy when a reader writes me a note telling me how much they’ve enjoyed my work.

I’ve known other people over the years who wanted to be doctors, teachers, truck drivers, secretaries, etc. and who took up those professions and are living their dreams. They’re happy because they’re living their dreams.

Dreaming is not a suspension of reality—it is an extension of it.

Sometimes we don't know what our dreams are until they walk up and slap us in the head. Then without a doubt, we realize it's been there all along, inside us.

You’re dreams are who you are. Listen and you will hear.

The Journey of spirtual growth requires courage and intiative and independecne of thought and action. While the words of the prophets and the assistance of grace are available, the journey must still be traveled alone.
M. Scott Peck

Monday, April 2, 2012

His Witness To Evil is on SALE!

To celebrate the release of my Golden Leaf Winner, HIS WITNESS TO EVIL, I'm offering it in e-format for only .99 at Amazon & B&N. The sale will be for a short time only.

Here’s the link to Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/His-Witness-To-Evil-ebook/dp/B007MBA1O0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332340994&sr=1-1

Here's the link to B&N:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/His-Witness-To-Evil?keyword=His+Witness+To+Evil&store=allproducts

A blurb for ‘His Witness To Evil’.

Based on true events, awarding-winning author Autumn Jordon has penned a thrilling romantic suspense set in the backwoods and small towns of the Appalachian Mountains.

Stephanie Boyd’s ordinary world changes forever when she and her children witness a blood bath. To escape the wrath of the Russian Mafia, she has no choice but to help the FBI uncover the mafia’s mole inside the U.S. Treasury. While on the run with the handsome agent who is willing to die for them, Stephanie learns the meaning of self-sacrifice and love.

Agent John Dolton’s only break in solving the case that cost him everything is a couple of kids and a beautiful widow. But keeping them safe seems impossible when their every move is foreseen by their enemy. Within weeks, Stephanie and her children soften the loner’s heart and John allows himself to let go of his all-consuming sorrow. This time John vows not to fail to protect the family he comes to love.

True events?

I see your eyebrows raised. Yes, true events. Life is stranger than fiction.

The idea for the book came when a trailer containing US funds went missing from the lot of the trucking company I had worked for. It was stolen, just missed directed for an hour. Tractor-trailers are stolen every day, for the product being hauled.

Another element is also true and has been verified by the FBI director of the branch FBI office near my home. I can’t tell you what that is, because I would be giving away part of the suspense plot. You’ll just have to read ‘His Witness To Evil’ and try to figure it out.

Remember the sale is only for a short. Please pass on the information. Thank you. AJ

Sunday, April 1, 2012

April Fool's

April 1, 2012

LOL. I’ve been giggling to myself ever since I decided to pull the prank on FaceBook. I’m so sorry to have fooled you, but I'm happy you took the time to wish me a happy birthday and then to jump over here.

My birthday? I'm a Scorpio. I know, I'm bad. LOL

PRESENTS FOR YOU, read on...

As a consolation for my bad April’s Fools prank, everyone who has wished me a Happy FB Birthday and who leaves a comment here, (no you’re going to kill me messages of any type) will be entered into a contest where I'll award five winners (that's 4+1 for April first) e-copies of His Witness To Evil. I’ll announce my winners on Monday afternoon at five EST, because, we'll I'm giving away five copies. You have until then to enter. No joke, really.

Already have a copy of His Witness To Evil, you can have an e-copy of Obsessed By Wildfire instead or gift His Witness To Evil to a friend. A great Eastre present! WINK

Good luck and happy April!