Interview with women’s fiction author Ainsley Keaton

Today’s special guest is Ainsley Keaton and we’re chatting about her new women’s fiction novel, The Orchid Inn. The first book in the Sconset Beach series.

During her virtual book tour, Ainsley will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit her other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:
Ainsley Keaton lives in Southern California with her husband and two fur-babies, Bella and Annie. When she’s not binge-watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Downton Abbey and Succession, she’s reading historical and women’s fiction or scouring the beach for sea glass and sand dollars.

Welcome, Ainsley. Please tell us about your latest release.
It’s called The Orchid Inn, and it’s three sisters, all of whom are in an existential crisis. Ava has lost her job, her husband and her life savings all in one day. Sarah’s boyfriend has died, leaving her penniless. And Charlotte’s new husband wants out because they just want different things. Ava and Sarah haven’t spoken in 10 years because of a rift, even though they were extremely close growing up.

Along the way, there are some mysteries. What happened to Sarah’s architectural license, and why can’t she get it back? Where is the girls’ father? He left 17 years ago without a word. And there’s a kick-ass white witch named Willow who helps Charlotte with her grief and depression.

In the end, the themes are redemption, forgiveness, family bonds and loyalty and realizing long-held dreams.

 

Excerpt from The Orchid Inn:
“You don’t need me to do another spell to bring that guy back. What you need is a spell to make you tougher, stronger. More of a badass. Mentally, that is,” Willow clarified as she looked at the delicate waifish-like figure of her friend.

“I don’t want to be a badass. I just want him back.”

“The sex couldn’t be that good,” Willow said. “No sex is good enough to make you give your power away like this. And why do I think that you guys aren’t even having that good of sex?”

Sara’s pale face grew crimson. “I don’t like to talk about that,” she said.

“I knew it. I knew it. The guy’s not even that great of a lay, is what you’re telling me, or not telling me, yet here you are, desperate to get him back. What kind of hold does he have over you?”

“He…he…he…” Sara couldn’t seem to find her words, so Willow found them for her.

“Listen,” Willow said. “Here’s the thing. You’re a hotty, in case you don’t know. Here’s a mirror.” Willow kept a small mirror in her pocket to ward off negative energies. In this case, she didn’t want to use it for magickal purposes. She just wanted Sara to see herself.

Sara looked into the mirror. “Oh, God, I look like crap. No wonder Jamie left.” Then she shook her head.

“That backfired spectacularly,” Willow mumbled to herself. “Let’s see, what kind of spell can I do to make you like yourself? Let alone love yourself?”

She was going to have to go to her personal Book of Shadows, where she wrote down all of her spells, incantations and poetry, and find the right spell to work so that Sara could see herself as the world saw her. Sara was objectively beautiful – even without makeup, her skin glowed from within, as did her enormous blue eyes. Somehow, her eyelashes were thick and dark, even though the woman was a natural blonde. Her nose was thin and delicate, her lips full and lush. She also appeared to be naturally slim, although Willow wasn’t sure about that. It could be that she just had an eating disorder.

Or, maybe like Willow herself, Sara just couldn’t afford to eat. That was always a possibility.

Sara was gorgeous, yet she still clung to the jerkiest jerks in Boston. And, yes, Sara lived in the city, which meant that every time she came to see Willow, she had to shlep her carcass an hour east to Hyannis, catch the ferry, then Uber her way to Willow’s cottage. Willow was still astounded that anybody could be that motivated, especially about getting some loser back in one’s life.

“I don’t care about that,” Sara said. “I just want him back.”

“You don’t care if you love yourself or not?” Willow asked. “Let’s go for a walk to the beach, shall we?”

“No,” Sara said. “I didn’t come here for a nature hike.”

“I know, I know. You came here because you lost your regular booty call. Because that’s essentially what Jamie was, you know. And, from your reaction earlier, it sounds like he wasn’t all that great of a booty call at that.”

Willow stood up and started walking towards the beach, making it clear that the topic of whether or not the two women were going to take a walk wasn’t up for discussion. If Sara wanted Willow’s help, she would do it on Willow’s terms, not her own.

 

What part of the writing process do you dread?
Dread isn’t the right word. I do have a problem talking myself into writing sometimes, but I tend to love everything about it.

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?
I’m not sure if it’s writer’s block so much as sometimes I get lazy and in my head. I don’t tend to get writer’s block, because I’m a pantser – I write by the seat of my pants instead of following an outline. So, I can usually get words on a page.

Do you ever wish you were someone else? Who?
Not lately, because I’ve become comfortable with my life and who I am and what I’ve accomplished. But it’s taken me a long time to get to this point. When I was younger, I had a great deal of insecurities and feelings that I wasn’t good enough – smart enough, pretty enough, popular enough, etc. So, when I was younger, I wanted to be this sorority girl or that cheerleader or just anybody else who seemed to have whatever it was that I wanted. I now see how silly that all was, because everybody has the same problems and issues, and the people that I wanted to be probably have the same insecurities that I did.

What did you do on your last birthday?
Went out to eat and saw an old Cary Grant movie on the big screen. I love me some Cary Grant!

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