Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building
families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has
graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011, along with her other series
and single title books. The married mother of five sons promises Happily
Ever After always…and says she can write it, because she lives it.
When not writing, Bernadette Marie is shuffling her sons to
their many events—mostly hockey—and enjoying the beautiful views of the
Colorado Rocky Mountains from her front step. She is also an accomplished
martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.
A chronic entrepreneur, Bernadette Marie opened her own
publishing house in 2011, 5 Prince Publishing, so that she could publish
the books she liked to write and help make the dreams of other aspiring authors
come true too. Bernadette Marie is also the CEO of Illumination Author
Events.
1.
If you had 3 wishes, what would
they be?
a.
Thinking globally, I’d wish for no child to ever suffer
from hunger, or abuse. (Lack of cell service is not what I’m thinking.”
b.
I’d wish for the perfect job for my husband. Whatever
he wanted. His latest dream was to have a food truck. BAM…he’d have it!
c.
NYT Bestseller on my bookcover!
2.
Given unlimited resources, what
would be your ideal writing environment?
a.
Have you seen the Tree house builder guy on Animal
Planet? I think a tree house/studio apartment over looking my beautiful Rocky
Mountains, would be ideal!
3.
Where do you actually write?
a.
Everywhere and any time. I have a office in my home
where I work, but when it comes to writing I have laptop and will travel.
4.
How long does it normally take
you to write a novel?
a.
1 ½ - 2 months.
SOCIAL
MEDIA AND CONTACTS
Eric
Walker’s life had been quiet, structured, and boring until his uncle gambled
away the family’s property and jeopardized Eric’s livelihood. Now midst family
secrets learned, someone ruining his business and trying to drive him off his
land, he fell in love.
Things
will never be the same for them—especially if someone succeeds in destroying
the Walker family and killing Eric.
SALE LINKS
BARNES AND NOBLE: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1056080498?ean=2940151479677
SMASHWORDS: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/547963
Chapter One ~ Walker Pride
Fog rolled in over the ground
giving the acreage around the house an eerie feel.
Eric Walker pulled up the
collar of his jacket and let out a sigh. It was appropriate for the day to be
gloomy, he thought. When you laid someone in
the ground, it was fitting for it to rain
or be down right cold, as it was today.
He walked down the old steps of
the house to his truck, which waited for him like a good horse. Always ready
for an adventure. He’d have taken his horse, but his stepmother would frown on
it. Not that he’d have cared, but for his father’s sake he chose not to.
As he climbed into the old
Ford, its red paint faded and its fender bent in, he kicked the mud off his
boots before he swung his feet inside.
Some things were sacred like
the inside of a man’s truck. Though the outside had seen many days in the
fields, the inside was an oasis of new interior, which pleased Eric.
The engine would be the next
upgrade, he thought as he gave her some gas as he turned the key. There was some
hesitation, but a moment later she roared to life ready to take him anywhere.
Eric avoided the main house as
much as he could.
He hadn’t been very old when
his mother died, but while she lived in the big house she had added her
touches. Rooms were decorated feminine and they just felt homey.
Of course, he would think that. His mother had done the work herself
and had taken great pride in it. But when she passed away and a year later his
father remarried. Glenda changed everything.
He’d been ten when the last
room received its final coat of new paint and he’d held that grudge since.
As the road to the house tossed
him back and forth he adjusted the dial on his radio. It was the kind of day
for wallowing in misery with Hank.
His mother loved Patsy Cline. He
could still hear her singing as she painted his childhood bedroom.
It was foolish for a man of
forty to think so far back and get so worked up, but funerals did that to him.
It had been his grandfather,
George Walker, they’d laid to rest in the family cemetery and that was what
made him start thinking about his mother.
Her headstone was a mere few
feet from his grandfather’s. CONSTANCE
WALKER. The letters had seemed so big for such a small woman.
Eric could have done with
walking away after the old man was lowered into the ground yesterday, but now
he had to trek to the house to hear the will.
He could have cared less about
who got what. His grandfather had always promised him the house on the edge of the property, where he’d
lived since he was eighteen. There was no reason to assume he’d go back on his
word.
Eric wondered about some of his
cousins though. Would greed set in?
His own brothers were much like
him. They were grateful for what they had. They worked hard and made honest
livings. Everett Walker hadn’t raised his boys to be anything less than honest
men. That alone gave Eric some pride.
He loved his brothers. He was
eight when Dane had been born and there
had been a lot of honest animosity, but
that had come from a boy who missed his own mother.
Glenda, though she changed the
house’s décor, was the best replacement for his mother Eric could wish for. She
never treated Eric as though he were someone else’s child. She raised him as
her own, with respect to his own mother.
Eric kicked up the heat in the
truck as he crossed over the little bridge that connected the two original
pieces of land over the small creek, which divided it.
All of his cousins had been at
the funeral. Well, everyone but Bethany.
It was completely possible his uncle Byron had forgotten to tell her that their
grandfather had died at all. Or, she was so busy with her life in L.A. it was
just too much to pack up to say goodbye to a grandfather she really didn’t
know.
Eric’s uncle was a piece of
work himself, he thought as he slowed to check the cattle grazing in the field
to his right.
Byron Walker had five children,
just as his father did. Only he’d been married and divorced twice and he’d
never even married Bethany’s mother.
His father and uncle were
complete opposites. Everett Walker, his father, was a family man. He was
committed to each member of his family and to his wife. He saved money, nearly
to a fault, Eric thought, and he worked harder than any other man Eric had ever
known.
His uncle Byron, on the other
hand, loved to live life as if it were a party. He’d nearly gone bankrupt three
times.
It was well known he was not a
faithful husband, which could have been why he’d been married and divorced. And
his children were just people who had passed through his life.
Eric got along with his
cousins, but they had never had a chance to become close. They came for visits
when they were growing up and Todd had worked on the land for years, but he
kept to himself.
It only made the drive to the
house that much worse by thinking about everyone being in one room—together.
There were at least a dozen
vehicles parked in the loop out front of the main house, each one as different
as its owner.
Eric parked the furthest away.
If he were able, he’d be the first one out. He stepped out of the truck onto
the soft ground. Rain had softened it and he was sure his stepmother was
already fit to be tied with the shoes coming into the house.
His father wouldn’t tolerate
her asking everyone to kick them off at the door. Eric could lay down bets that
the carpet cleaner van would be parked there by tomorrow morning.
Not wanting to make a grand
entrance, as the last one to arrive, he walked around to the back of the house
and pulled open the back door.
The woman standing in his
mother’s kitchen jumped and placed her hands on her chest.
“You startled me,” she gasped
and let out a breath.
Eric looked her over. He’d seen
her before, but he couldn’t put a place to it.
The woman kept working. There
were assorted trays on the counter and island. Obviously she was a caterer, and
that was where he realized he knew her. She’d catered the reception after the
funeral.
Eric toed off his boots. It was
the least he could do for his stepmother, even if he hated the idea.
“So what’s going on in here?”
he asked.
“Mrs. Walker wanted to have a
small sandwich service while the attorneys were here.”
Eric nodded. “Platters of meats
and breads. She hired you to do it?”
The woman shrugged, perhaps
brushing off the insult he’d landed on her. “It’s what I do. Yesterday’s buffet
was okay wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was fine.”
She grinned as she continued to
work. “Fine. This is why I need a sit down restaurant so I can create items
that are more than fine.”
“I didn’t mean…”
She raised her eyes to meet
his. “I know. This is what I have to do to pay for culinary school. Someday it
will be much more than sandwich trays and buffets.”
“You want to own a restaurant,
huh?” he asked as he reached over to the tray and took a black olive and popped
it into his mouth.
Her eyes followed him and her
lips tightened. “Yes. This isn’t forever.”
The unmistakable clicking of
his stepmother’s shoes pierced his ears. He could hear the mumbling of his
entire family, close and extended, down the hall. There was no doubt she was
coming looking for him.
“Eric, I thought I heard that
old truck of yours. The entire family is waiting for you.”
He gave the woman rolling ham
into rolls a glance and she was smirking, her back toward his stepmother.
“I’ll follow you down,” he said
as his stepmother turned and walked away. He leaned in toward the woman. “No
fair laughing as she scolded me.”
The woman laughed then leaned
in closer. “She scares me a little.”
“Yeah, she’s scared the hell
out of me since I was eight.” That warranted a laugh. “I guess I’d better go. I
can think of a million things I’d rather be doing.”
He picked up a ham roll and
took a bite as she narrowed her eyes at
him.
“She’s going to probably count
each of those to make sure she’s paying the right amount.”
“If she short pays you I’m good
for it. If she doesn’t tip you enough either, let me know. I’m good for that
too.”
“Something tells me you’re
trouble.”
He bit off another bite. “I’ve
been known to be that too.”
She moved the tray of meat out
of his reach. “I’ll be sure to be in touch if I need to collect.”
Eric held out his hand to her,
but before she took it she wiped her own on her apron. “Eric Walker.”
“Susan Hayes.”
“Eric!” His stepmother’s voice
echoed down the hall.
“I’m forty years old. You think
she’d realize I don’t play by her rules anymore.”
“Do you play by anyone’s
rules?”
“Just my own.”
She took back her hand and
reached for a bag of rolls. “Like I said something tells me you’re trouble.”
Eric shot her a grin as he
stole a roll from the bag. Perhaps after putting up with his entire family he
would actually stick around and watch the caterer work. He hadn’t had anyone
pique his interest in a long time. It might be worth mingling with his family
just to let her interest him a little more.
June 22
June 23
June 24
June 25
June 26
June 27
June 28
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