Autistic characters have become more common in recent years as the condition has risen to the forefront of national discussions, with depictions ranging from strikingly accurate to unfortunately reductive. Romance author Kari Lynn Dell’s new book, Tougher in Texas, became a space to exorcise her very personal fears about perceptions of autism.

In many ways the hero of my new book, Tougher in Texas, is my worst nightmare.

Cole Jacobs is high-functioning autistic, in the range of the spectrum labeled as Asperger’s. So is my son. They share a lot of character traits, the most pronounced being difficulty interacting with other humans. In other words, they suck at small talk.

The difference between them is timing.

Logan’s kindergarten teacher immediately recognized that he was not neurotypical, which triggered a series of observations and screenings. All aspects of his school experience have been guided by an Individual Education Plan, right down to aides that observe and guide him on the playground. Legally speaking, if there’s a problem, the school is obligated to adapt to him, not vice versa.

Cole wasn’t so lucky. He wasn’t diagnosed until the age of thirty and suffered through thirteen years of education as that weird kid who doesn’t listen.

When I sat down to write Cole, I imagined what might have happened if my son had been born a decade or two sooner, before his condition would have been identified. But I also projected my fears for a critical point in Logan’s life—when he suddenly grasps that he’s not like other kids.

Psychologists have warned us that this is most likely to coincide with his first crush. Our job is be sure he doesn’t get crushed, at least not permanently like in Cole’s case. As an adult, Cole is the epitome of the strong silent type, but he confesses it hasn’t always been the case:

He ran his thumb back and forth along the edge of the table, the repetitive, tactile sensation grounding him. “People assume because I don’t say much, I don’t want anyone else to talk. But I like to listen.”

“As long as you don’t have to answer?”

“Depends. Ask me about feed supplements, I can go on all day.”

She laughed in patent disbelief. “That I would have to hear.”

“I used to talk a lot.” He pressed the pad of his thumb harder into the edge of the table.

Shawnee turned, a plate in each hand. “And then?”

“I got old enough to figure out I was doing it wrong.”

Right now, we are focusing on Logan’s autistic gifts. Because yes, along with the negatives we hear so much about, being on the spectrum can endow amazing benefits. My son is the happiest kid I know. Luckily, he suffers from little of the anxiety that can be debilitating for many with autism. He loves hugs. He can memorize reams of cartoon dialogue, poems and songs and play them back, mimicking any accent spot on.

Best of all—he could truly care less if anyone thinks he’s cool. In the toxic world of adolescence, that is a superpower. If only it would last through high school. Or ever better, adulthood.

And as the psychologist pointed out, what is a detriment in the education system often becomes an advantage later in life. Cole’s autism makes him compulsive about schedules and routines, which can be annoying, but also helps his rodeos tick along like clockwork. His obsession with every tiny detail pertaining to the care and management of his bucking horses and bulls ensures their safety and optimum performance. When he’s forced to also look after the human herd that makes up the Jacobs Livestock crew he tends to them in the same way.

Is it his fault that some people—yeah, we’re looking at you, Shawnee—don’t respond well to being micro-managed?

My son has also given me the gift of understanding—and forgiveness. I can now look at my dad’s side of the family and see that several people, including myself, exist either in or just outside of that same range of the spectrum. (Yes, in our case autism is at least partially inherited. In general, autism has been proven over and over again to be genetic in nature and unrelated to childhood vaccinations). I get why my grandmother gave every one of us a copy of Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Good Behavior for Christmas (which is actually a very entertaining read, by the way, with the author often digressing into expertly applied snark). For a woman whose routines were so ingrained she was upset for days after I parked on the wrong side of her bank and forced her to walk in the opposite door from her usual, etiquette was a predictable set of rules to guide my grandmother through otherwise painful social interactions—her version of Cole’s precious schedules.

Discovering all of this has helped me accept what I have always considered to be personal shortcomings. Turns out I just wasn’t designed to be that woman who still has deep connections to her high school girlfriends. I don’t bond easily and maintaining relationships will always be a low priority—not because I’m cold or self-centered, as I assumed—but because I am neurologically wired in a way that I don’t crave those connections beyond a select few, mostly family.

I’m pretty good with casual friendships, I’m your girl if you need someone to jump in and impose order during a crisis, but I barely even remember my own anniversary, let alone your birthday. I can, however, keep most of a four-hundred-page book organized inside my head.

And you know what? That’s a trade-off I’m more than happy to make, and I pray that eventually my son will find his special niche, too.

Kari Lynn Dell is a third generation cowgirl, horse trainer and rodeo competitor as well as the 2013 Canadian Senior Pro Rodeo Association Breakaway Roping Champion. She is also a humor columnist for several regional newspapers and a national agricultural publication. You can follow her on Twitter @kidell or visit her website at www.karilynndell.com.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of Tougher in Texas.

Helen Hoang’s The Kiss Quotient is one of the most buzzed-about romances of the summer. “A unicorn . . . magical and one of a kind,” according to our reviewer, Hoang’s debut follows an autistic woman named Stella as she attempts to learn about love and dating by hiring a male escort. Through her research, Hoang discovered that not only were autistic women frequently undiagnosed, but that she was herself one of them.

Many months before I even conceptualized The Kiss Quotient, I had this feeling that I needed to try something new with my writing. I needed a change. But I didn’t know what that change was. I thought I might try writing in a new romance subgenre. (I’d been writing mainly fantasy romance.) Sci-fi maybe. Or historical in an uncommon locale and timeframe. Something new. Something wild. Maybe something taboo.

At my friend’s recommendation, I read an anthropological piece called Nightwork on hostess clubs in Tokyo and, as my friend expected, was fascinated. It made me want to write about a character in a similar profession, which naturally brought to mind Pretty Woman. The idea of flipping the genders of the characters captivated me, but I couldn’t figure out why a beautiful, successful woman would hire a male escort. The question lingered in the back of my mind as I went on with my life.

When my daughter’s preschool teacher suggested she was on the spectrum, I was completely shocked. She’s a handful, but she didn’t fit my preconceptions of autism. I did some research, and my findings weren’t in line with my girl’s traits. To be thorough, I asked my family and her pediatrician for their opinions, and their unanimous response was no, she wasn’t autistic. They had to be right, and I let it go. Mostly.

One trait from my cursory research lingered in my mind: trouble with social skills. That was something I could empathize with—and a compelling reason to hire an escort. (Yes, everything revolves around writing/stories for me.) What if the heroine in my gender-swapped Pretty Woman was autistic like my daughter wasn’t?

I began to research in earnest and found myself reading Rudy Simone’s Aspergirls, where I stumbled upon an interesting finding: There’s a major difference in the way autism is perceived between men and women. What I’d previously read described autistic men, but many autistic women, for a variety of reasons, mask their awkwardness and hide their autistic traits so they don’t draw notice. Even our obsessions/interests are generally tailored to be socially acceptable. Because of this, women often go undiagnosed or are diagnosed late in life, frequently after their own children receive diagnoses. Women with Asperger’s exist in what people call “the invisible part of the spectrum.”

As I read Aspergirls, I looked back at my own past and recalled so many things: difficulty with relationships and intimacy, all-consuming interests, social awkwardness, routines, repetitive motions, etc. What started as mere research for a book became a journey of self-realization. The woman I was reading about was me. And possibly my daughter. She was also Stella, The Kiss Quotient’s autistic heroine.

Through Stella and this book, I explored and embraced parts of myself that I’d never understood and always tried to hide, and this freedom translated into better writing. I stopped emulating other writers and found my own unique writer’s voice. Not only that, but the book became a therapy of sorts. I gave Stella my fears and insecurities, and she confronted them for me. Her “fresh and fabulous” regimen is basically how I lived my life prior to diagnosis (which I obtained while I wrote this book), and having her see the foolishness of her ways and accept herself was self-affirming for me. In early drafts of the book, Stella "came out" as autistic to the book’s hero, Michael, at the end. Even as I wrote those lines of dialogue, I knew I was practicing what I'd say to my own loved ones, and it gave me courage.

The inspiration for Michael came from my family. Well, and pictures of beautiful Daniel Henney. But mostly my family, and that made him deeply personal to me as well. I gave him my culture and mixed heritage, and his family members are close depictions of mine, particularly his grandma and mom. His struggle to balance his own desires with the needs of his loved ones is something I know intimately, though I’m not as heroic as I think he is.

By the time I finished writing this book, I felt like Stella, Michael and I had all grown together. The main conflict—a woman falling for her escort—isn’t something I’ve experienced, but the inspirations for the characters’ individual growth arcs were close and personal. If The Kiss Quotient resonates with readers, I think this is why.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of The Kiss Quotient.

Author photo by Eric Kieu.

Rochelle Alers has been a mainstay of the romance genre for decades. But unlike many of her fellow authors, Alers’ books consistently feature characters that are older than your average 20-something hero and heroine. The youngest couple in her latest series is in their mid-30s, which is still on the older end of the spectrum when it comes to romance (yes, really). Alers’ new book, Room Service, follows interior designer Jasmine Washington and banker Cameron Singleton as they connect in New Orleans at a luxury inn owned by Jasmine’s friend. Both are in their 40s, both are successful in their careers and both are set in their ways. Here, Alers tells us why that’s a perfect formula for a romance.

I began reading romances more than four decades ago, and now that I am celebrating 30 years as a published author, I want to interact with characters that reflect who I am and my outlook on life. And there are also many readers who agree with me because whenever I am invited to speak at book clubs, the majority of the members are over 40 and complain as to the dearth of characters representing their ages.

Other than completing a manuscript, my utmost excitement comes from developing a mature heroine who will find love for the first time, or one that is divorced and although she is not looking to marry again, she is unable to resist the man offering her more than she could have ever imagined. And then there is the widow or empty-nester who is planning the next phase of her life and isn’t looking for love but is pleasantly surprised when that man she never would’ve expected comes along to change not only her but also her future.

Given their life experience, they are more mature, secure and not apt to play head games. They may have experienced sadness or disappointment—some are even unwilling to entertain the possibility of a commitment. This doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, but it attests to their experience. Been there, done that.

As a Baby Boomer and someone who has been given a second chance at love after more than 20 years of marriage, I know firsthand how important it is to celebrate mature characters of a certain age who are able to have their happily ever after. Love isn’t an emotion designated to a particular age group, but to anyone open to accepting it. I don’t believe there is an ideal age in which to fall in love, and because of this belief, I use this theme in the Innkeepers series. In The Inheritance the couple is in their late-50s, 50s in Breakfast in Bed, 40s in Room Service and mid-30s in the upcoming The Bridal Suite. The heroines in this series are also independent, financially solvent and after undergoing some or many unforeseen occurrences they not only survive but also thrive.

Today’s modern woman is afforded more choices and opportunities than from those in past generations, and readers want to read about older heroines whose lives closely resemble theirs. Perhaps it is because I am a mature woman and writer that it is easier for me to depict them in my novels than instead of writing about 20 and 30-somethings. Although I do write about younger heroines in my category romances, I plan to continue to feature older heroines in my women’s fiction for the duration of my writing career.

When people find out that I wrote a book that takes place in the world of the NFL, the first thing they always ask is, “So this is about your life, right?” To which I answer with a strong and emphatic, “No, no, not even remotely close at all.” So I figure, since I’m here, I should take this opportunity to clear up any questions on what’s real and what is totally “The Hills”-level exaggerated.

Honestly, when I sat down at my computer and decided to give writing a go, I very vividly remember thinking there was no way I would ever write a sports romance. Don’t get me wrong, I loved reading them, but the books I read about football were missing a lot of the things I was actually experiencing as an athlete’s wife. The NFL sounds pretty glamorous without the players getting cut and concussions. But I guess, in the words of the great Justin Bieber (with a cameo by the equally great Jayden Smith), “Never say never.”

When I started writing Intercepted, I knew there were certain experiences that had to be told. I knew if I went ahead and wrote the sports romance I wanted to write, there would be elements of truth alongside all of the drama I had a blast creating. Lucky for me, my husband played in the NFL for eight years, so I had a lot of inspiration to draw on.

First things first, the women I met while my husband was playing in the NFL are nothing like the “wicked wives” from my book. I was 19 when I moved to Baltimore with my now husband. I was not a wife—I wasn’t even a fiancée. I mean, I couldn’t even drink yet! But unlike the women in my book, the women I met in real life were nothing short of amazing. They took me in like I was their little sister, inviting me to dinners and movies, to their houses to watch the games when the guys were away. They showed me the kind of woman I wanted to become. Their loyalty knew no bounds, and their kindness wasn’t something they ever hesitated in showing.

I still remember the time right after my husband was traded from Baltimore to Green Bay. I was 37 weeks pregnant, and we had an 18-month-old as well. Some of the other wives and I all had babies right around the same time, and we signed up for the same mommy-and-me class. My husband was gone, and when I mentioned I needed to go grocery shopping, my friend, who is still one of my close friends today, met me at my elevator-free apartment and carried all of my groceries up four flights of stairs for me.

Those are the NFL wives that I know.

There really was a wives’ group. We met up and discussed community outreach we wanted to participate in. Sadly, though, there were no margaritas or glitter gavels involved. We did, however, have matching vests, and I still have mine tucked away in my closet.

Also in my book, the players all live in the same community of mansions. This is true. Except instead of mansions, the majority of the team lived in the same neighborhood of moderately priced homes and apartment complexes. Have you ever heard the saying that NFL stands for Not For Long? Well, that saying is accurate AF. And the vast majority of the team aren’t making millions of dollars and won’t invest in a house that they might not last a year—or even a month—in.

The one part of Intercepted I really tried to keep as close to reality as I could were the injuries. I met my husband in high school. I watched him play high school, college and professional football, and I can tell you that watching him get hit never got easier. Hearing the crack of helmets—even above the voracious roar of the crowd—would make my stomach turn. There’s a helplessness and a loneliness that can’t properly be described. You watch the person you love get hit repeatedly with so much force it can be compared to getting in multiple car accidents. There would be times when I would meet some of my friends to watch the games together, and their husband would get injured. The deafening silence that would take over the room as we’d crowd her, turning up the TV and waiting for the announcer to give us news or, even worse, see him give a thumbs-up from a stretcher carting him off of the field. Knowing that your significant other’s safety and your financial stability could end with one hit made the games more of a chore than anything else at times.

Sorry.

That got a little dark, didn’t it?

Don’t worry, I know how to lighten it up. . . . Crystals!

There are a lot of references to glitter, crystals and margaritas in my book. Part of this is because that is exactly what I imagine my fantasy life to solely consist of, and the other part is because crystals are one of my favorite WAGS (wives and girlfriends) memories. The first time I saw an altered jersey was when my friend wore one to the game. She cut out lace to go over the numbers and adhered it with a hot glue gun and a buttload (technical measurement) of crystals. It was glorious. It was the kind of DIY I knew I was always destined for, but didn’t even know existed. And once my eyes were open to this fabulous, over-the-top way to show support, I couldn’t look away. That’s how I found Leah Miller, aka the Diamond Duchess. I wish the descriptions I have in my book did even a fraction of justice to the masterpieces she creates, but if you have time and you need a rabbit hole to fall down during your next venture on the internet, I highly suggest you look her up.

Being an NFL wife was a wild journey for me. I’d be lying if I told you it was all roses or that I haven’t had moments where I resented all it stood for. But at the end of the day, I don’t regret a single second of it. I have met wonderful women, traveled the country and watched my husband live out his dream. I know how lucky I am to have the perspective I have been given. I just hope that now I can pass it along and give readers a new and exciting way to experience the crazy world of sports.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our review of Intercepted.

Every romance reader’s fantasy comes to life in Jenn McKinlay’s The Good Ones, and no, we’re not talking about the very handsome cowboy on the cover. Heroine Maisy Kelly has inherited a gorgeous old Victorian home, which she intends to convert into a romance-only bookstore. Aforementioned handsome cowboy is Ryder Copeland, the architect Maisy hires to help her achieve her dream. The adorable, smart and refreshingly lighthearted romance that follows is as much a love story to the characters as it is an ode to the genre itself. Here, McKinlay shares how she crafted her clever new romance.

Have you ever held up a mirror to a mirror and seen the infinite scroll of images of yourself holding a mirror reflected within? Yeah, I love that. It totally bends my brain in a different direction, sort of like when I try to grasp quantum physics. I get it for like a nanosecond and then it’s gone, but that nanosecond is super cool. Writing The Good Ones was a bit like holding up that mirror.

The opening scene of the book finds our heroine, Maisy Kelly, reading one of her favorite romances. A knock on the door interrupts her binge read, and she is understandably disgruntled to leave Jake Sinclair, her fictional boyfriend, to go answer the door. After all, the book cover shows Jake in jeans, a white t-shirt and a cowboy hat, sitting on a picnic table in the middle of a field. What woman would want to leave that to answer her door? But Maisy does answer and standing there is a man in jeans, a white T-shirt and, you guessed it, a cowboy hat. It’s Ryder Copeland, the restoration architect she’s hired to refurbish the house she’s inherited into a romance bookstore. Maisy is undone by the coincidence. Now take a peek at the cover of The Good Ones. Yep, just like holding a mirror up to a mirror, it goes on and on and on.

Needless to say, I had great fun with all of the meta aspects of writing The Good Ones. And unexpectedly, the process of writing the book gave me the opportunity to think about the genre I love from a completely different perspective. As I began thinking about all of the authors and the books that had shaped my love of romance over the years, I found the book becoming even bigger than I had anticipated. The Good Ones became, as a reviewer from Booklist stated, “A beautifully written love letter to the romance genre from someone who understands just how important these books are to their readers.” Until I wrote about Maisy and Ryder, I don’t think I appreciated how much romance novels had shaped my life.

It also gave me the opportunity to give a nod to a lot of my favorite authors, starting with Jane Austen. The recovering librarian in me truly enjoyed that. Because my personal life does pop up in my books in one way or another, I had to include a subplot about the days-old kitten, King George, that my family rescued while I was writing the first draft of the book. And, naturally, having written the Bluff Point romance series previously, that had to be slipped in as an Easter egg, too, by having Ryder mention the hero of one of those books as his friend but also having Maisy recommend the books to a customer in her romance bookshop. Truly, there were so many elements to play with while writing The Good Ones—it was an embarrassment of riches.

Of course, when you read fiction, you’re required to suspend your disbelief. It’s on the writer to make you do so. I knew while I was writing The Good Ones that many of the meta elements I had included, such as the guy on the cover of the book Maisy is reading looking just like the cover of the actual book, would either pull my readers out or tuck them more deeply into the story. It is my hope that these references were another level of entertainment, like being taught a secret handshake, and that they acted like markers on a trail to help the reader find their way back out once the story was done. The Good Ones was a hoot to write and I’m happy to say that the fun continues at the Happily Ever After bookstore in The Christmas Keeper, coming October 2019!