Never hit a man with your fist if someone else will hit him with his car.


Piper Bayard and Jay Holmes

Piper Bayard is an author and a recovering attorney with a college degree or two. She’s also a belly dancer from way back and a former hospice volunteer. She currently pens post-apocalyptic sci-fi and international spy thrillers when she isn’t shooting, baking cookies, or chauffeuring her children.

Jay Holmes is a veteran field intelligence operative with experience spanning from the Cold War fight against the Soviets, the East Germans, and the various terrorist organizations they sponsored to the present Global War on Terror. He is still a senior member of the intelligence community and unwilling to admit to much more than that. Piper is the public face of their partnership.

Together, Bayard & Holmes author non-fiction articles and books on espionage and foreign affairs. They are also the bestselling authors of THE SPY BRIDE from the RISKY BRIDES Bestsellers Collection and featured contributors for Social In Worldwide, Inc., reaching approximately six million Twitter followers daily.

To keep in touch with Bayard & Holmes and to receive notices of their upcoming releases, subscribe to the Bayard & Holmes Covert Briefing.

You can contact Bayard & Holmes in comments, on Twitter at @piperbayard, on Facebook at Bayard & Holmes, or at their email,

How We Met – The Story We Like to Tell, by Piper:

In my youth, I had a friend whose uncle’s brother’s neighbor’s father owned a five star hotel in Bahrain. She didn’t actually know the man, but the uncle’s sister’s cousin’s friend assured me he was on the up and up, so I agreed to a three-week belly dancing engagement in the hotel’s club.

When I arrived, I saw the previous dancer coming from the hotel with several young bellhops behind her, laden down with fur coats, electronic devices, and multiple suitcases. I thought, “Wow. I’ve hit the big time.”

I put on my sharpest costume – the one with the green and gold beads and extra long fringe – and I danced my heart out that night to a full house. One particular man took a special interest in me that, truth be told, made me more than a little bit uncomfortable. Always listen to those instincts!

After the show, the hotel manager burst into my dressing room and ordered me to the oogler’s suite. I refused. That’s when he informed me that I was to be the house prostitute during my stay. The hotel personnel did not lay a hand on me, but they proceeded to rob me of my passport, visa, and money, saying they would only return them when I complied with their customers’ requests.

The next night, I danced my heart out once more, though with some trepidation as to what would happen at the end of the show. Would they return and beat me? Would they become impatient and force me? The same man was once more in the front row, and his glance made it clear that he intended to own me by the end of the evening.

I am not, however, an easy woman to own.

That night after my performance, I slipped into the ladies’ room and stood on the rim of the commode to reach the window. Lucky for me, it opened. Still in my costume and heels, I pulled myself through to the second floor roof. Crossing to the far side, I used an anchored pipe to lower myself to a balcony. The people inside were engaged in, well, let’s just say certain activities, and they didn’t notice me as I exited by way of their balcony stairs and over their garden wall.

Once on the street, there wasn’t a soul in sight. My first impulse was to distance myself from the hotel and find the American Embassy. But which way to go? I was completely lost, so I chose to go west. Because, hey–I’m an American. We go west.

Two blocks away, I found myself in a dark, narrow side street when a sports car turned onto the road, coming toward me. I jumped into the shadow of a doorway, not knowing what to do. The person in that car could have been anyone from a foreign dignitary to the lecherous oogler to a mobster.

Standing there in the middle of the night in my cabaret sequins with no identification or money in an Arab country, I knew I would have to be very lucky not to go from the frying pan into the fire. But I was lost, and I needed help. I had to take the chance. I stepped out of the shadows and waved down the car.

It screeched to a halt, and Holmes stepped out. I looked into his kind, soulful eyes and smiled. It was clear at once that I was with a friend.

Holmes went with me back to the hotel. What he did in that hotel office is anybody’s guess. I only know that five men walked in, and only one walked out. Holmes. With my passport, visa, and money.

He then escorted me to my room and guarded the door while I collected my things. On the way to the airport, I thanked him and asked him what brought him to Bahrain. He told me he was a power management specialist, there with his friends for a convention. As for me, I told him I was a dancer, but that one day, many years down the road, I would be an author . . .

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The truth is that we are not at liberty to tell how we met, but we would love to hear your suggestions in the Comments for other BS stories we can tell about the Fateful Day.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

MyPhotos Piper TFOB Author Signing

An Interview with Piper Bayard →

Author Magazine

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

© 2013 Piper Bayard. All content on this site is protected by copyright. If you would like to use any part of this, please contact us at to request permission.

20 thoughts on “ About

  1. on ,
    Vic said:

    Well, I actually like the BS story you created here, so I’ll refrain other than to say there were likely either guns or dogs involved. Maybe both…

  2. I have just read your teaser of “Firelands” wanting more and I will save pennies to have it
    and then wandered through the many corridors of your thoughts opening doors…( yes knocking sometimes, no one was home so I walked in 🙂 )
    I have thoroughly enjoyed the read about…I will most likely be back when I can hold my eyes open…I dream of writing like y’all…capturing, enchanting from page one and not even peeking at the end to see what happens…
    Thank you…
    Take Care…You Matter…

      • You responded to one of my posts and invited me here. Like what you’ve done with the place.:) I have to admit you had for just a bit on the story, I think until you climbed out the window……not sure why then but ………. great story. I’ll be back.

        • Actually, I had a friend who had to do exactly that. She had to crawl out the window of a bathroom where she had a gig for her own safety. So that’s one of the more factual fiction parts of the story. She didn’t meet Holmes, but she did meet a very nice couple who took her to the American Embassy. 🙂

  3. on ,
    Bryan Woolley said:

    Nice to meet you. I found you on Twitter tonight. I honestly had never heard of you before tonight. I would like to buy and read one of your books. Thanks!

  4. Just read your recent post on Writers In The Storm, and must say that you grossly underrate the value of critique groups. I participate in a few, and certainly some are better than others. However, the better ones remind their writers to take everyone’s comments with a grain of salt, and to decide which advice is valuable and which is not. Overall though, while there are always some critics who feel they are more expert by virtue of some classes they have taken, more attendee’s critiques offer valuable insights than do not.

    Critique groups are a valuable tool, just like the others you mention. It is foolish to tackle a job you care about, and not to bring all your best tools to the job.

    • I don’t discourage anyone from participating in critique groups. They just aren’t for me or every writer, and I’ve seen excellent writers crippled by bad ones. I’m glad you have a good one. May your muse be generous.

  5. Back to that “Fateful Day” LOL
    Truly enjoyed your story. I sounded just like a CIA report coming out of the jungles of Vietnam in the sixties – I worked on Okinawa in Signals Intelligence. I later found out at the NSA, my last year in the service, that it was all true – those poor guys.
    So, I believe your story 100%. Now, you just have to convince The Donald, lol.
    Thanks for the intro and will be back.

    • It’s a pleasure to meet you, John. So glad you enjoyed our story.

      As I recall, The Donald was in the audience that night. I can neither confirm nor deny whether he was doing any grabbing on that occasion. He was back in a corner in deep conversation with Putin, Xi Jinxing, Kim Jong Un, and Kanye West–at least that’s who the media said they were in the headlines the next day. I didn’t dance over to his table, but I could see much nodding and many hand gestures from my vantage point.

      Sounds like you’ve seen much nodding and many hand gestures from your vantage point over the years. Thank you sincerely for your service.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Return to Top