A guest post by author Natalie R. Collins.
When I was six years old, a man pointed a gun at me and told
me take off my clothes or he would kill me.

She was eight years old, and she stood up to this man with a
gun. He told us to take our clothes off, or he would kill us. And she bravely
said “No, we won’t. You’re going to have to kill us.”
This went on for a while, and she refused while the rest of
us cowered in fear. He shot the gun in the air to prove how serious he was, but
she wasn’t budging.
Finally, he gave up and told us to run, and not look back. I
remember I lost my shoes, but I wasn’t stopping. He said don’t look back and I
didn’t.
We ran to our house and told my dad what had happened, and
for some reason, he didn’t seem to believe us. So, rather than call the police,
he put all four of us in the car and drove us up to the same place where we had
just been terrorized. And as we pulled in a man in camo with a gun came walking
out of wooded area. That changed everything. My dad questioned him, and he
denied it all, but there he was. With a gun. In the woods where we had just
been threatened.
So the police were finally called. I remember they came to
our house, and all four of us waited in the basement for our turn to be
interviewed. I don’t really remember the interview. I don’t really
remember much past the day I was told the local church leaders had asked for
charges to be dropped because he had just married and had a baby. And charges
WERE dropped. He did not go to jail. At least not at that time. My mother told
me years later that he did end up in prison, which is no surprise.
But it was that moment, that dichotomy of events—Church
power vs. Municipal power—that made me question both my childhood religion and
how things were handled by authorities, most of whom were also Mormon. And even
deeper, why Mormon families allowed it to happen.
My friend, a retired detective, worked for a while in
Farmington, Utah, where this happened, and she assured me it was done all the
time. It made her sick, and eventually she left that local force and went to
Salt Lake City which was a bit more diverse and less ruled by religion.
Now, I’ve long gotten past this event, and I wrote about it
in my book WIVES AND SISTERS, but what I haven’t gotten past is my interest in
religion and crime—murder--and the way they interact. Religion seems to be a
catalyst for a lot of bloody crimes. Is it easier to commit a crime if you are convinced
you are doing it in the name of God? I’ve wondered this as we watch events like
the murder of Lori Hacking, by her husband Mark. Or the BTK Killer, Dennis
Rader, who as an active member of the Christ Lutheran Church. We watched planes
fly into the World Trade Center as terrorists gave their lives for glory and
virgins and “Allah.”
Brian David Mitchell kidnapped Elizabeth Smart so he could
have another bride. He was following the original teachings of the Prophet
Joseph Smith, Jr.
In some hands, religion is more dangerous than a loaded gun.
And I began exploring it when I wrote. Every time I think
there won’t be another story to tell, along comes another one.
And it doesn’t mean I hate Mormons, or want to hurt them. I
like Mormons. Some of my best friends are Mormon. But there is something about
the violent and bloody teachings of early Mormonism that triggers a switch in
some degenerate brains. Brains like those of Mark Hoffman, who was committing
fraud, and killed innocent people to try to cover it up.
I am currently writing my fourth book for St. Martin’s
(tentatively titled Death Angel), and I don’t know if there will be more or
not. I can’t say, because I don’t know. What I do know is there are stories
that need to be told, and I am glad I got the opportunity to tell them.
And now I will also have an opportunity to go back and spend
some time writing more Jenny T. Partridge Dance Mysteries. So much fun to
write. So many pyscho dance moms. The drama never ends….

Her critically acclaimed WIVES AND SISTERS received excellent reviews, including one from Kirkus, calling Collins “…a talent to watch.”
Natalie lives in Southern Utah with her husband Jeff, and two spoiled dogs.