Goodreads asked Samantha Hart:

What mystery in your own life could be a plot for a book?

Samantha Hart When I was about ten years old, our neighbor asked me to babysit the dogs at the Pastor's family home, who lived about two miles from the farm where I grew up. I took this job quite seriously, so nothing, not even three feet of snow, kept me from performing my job. One day while trudging up over the hill in the snow, I dropped the key. It completely disappeared beneath the deep, white drift. Digging for it was futile. It was gone. I managed to fight a window left unlocked and shimmied in to take care of the dogs, but I had to come clean to the Pastor. I lost the key. Flash forward to spring. While hiking the hills looking for lost horse halters worth a quarter, I spotted something shiny. It was the long-lost key. The Pastor and his family had moved out about six months before. To my knowledge, no one had moved into the home. Or so I thought. A mysterious man, a loner, and by all accounts from his appearance, not a man from around these parts seemed to be squatting there.. He came and went at odd times, sometimes leaving the house vacant for months. Who was he? Why was he there? Was he a spy?

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