A snowstorm and a hamburger...a love story

Happy Valentine's Day! This has to be my favorite version of the love story I share with my husband. Posted in 2012 I am reposting it today...because I'm still lucky enough to be Living Happily Ever After...always

I wrote this blog a long time ago, but it never gets old...never! If you have met me and my husband you probably know we love each other quite a bit.  It's not the five kids following us, but you'd know because we just love each other that much--it's completely obvious.  

All of my books are dedicated to this man who makes Happily Ever After my reality. Even on nights, such as last night, when I was snippy and in a bad mood I know without a doubt that man still loves me, even if I made myself take a timeout from family time and disappear in my bedroom (how trained am I?)

I hope my children find such happiness in their lives when they find their soul mate. That one person who can meld into your family, who you will share life and death with, who will stand by your side when it is easy and when it is hard.  The one who smiles when you wake up and your eyes are swollen shut and your hair tousled into a nest you can't comb out and says "You're beautiful." Okay... I know I have 5 boys... I'm raising them the be the man that sees that beauty :) I know my part.  I'm raising husbands, so they will be sweet and sensitive, just as their father is.

Don't get me wrong... I'm all woman and he's all man. That's oil and water in my book.  But even when the snipping and the grunts of missed communication happen, there is love.  And I'm living my happily ever after and have been since I was eighteen.  So below... is how it came to be.

A Snowstorm and a Hamburger…

I could say that on November 2, 1990 I was smitten.  I’d met a boy, we’d become the best of friends, and we’d shared many special moments.  However, I still told my family, “He’s not my boyfriend, just a friend.”  But on this fateful night, when I chose to stay at school and not go home and on a pending “date” with someone else, I realized I’d fallen in love with this friend and that was why going home didn’t seem so important.

Earlier in the day we had gone to get him groceries for the weekend.  He had made a sandwich and was settling in to play rounds of Mario on the Nintendo.  I was fighting a battle with my heart.  Go home to someone I didn’t care about, who made me miserable, or stay at school and start a new journey.  To my surprise, my mother, who always wanted me home, said she’d stay and have sandwiches.

Needless to say that was the defining moment in my life.  I called him and was crying.  He threw his sandwich at his roommate and ran to my room.  Looking back now, it was just like the movies. 

We ended up, broke, but together, at a Hardee’s down the street.  We had enough money for one hamburger and one shake.  Together we sat in the booth, his arm around my shoulders as I cried away one part of my life, not because I was sad, but because I knew he was exactly who I wanted by my side forever. 

The snow had begun to fall outside the restaurant and we sat together over that shared hamburger and shake and watched the sparkling white snow illuminate in the street lights.  It was like a magic dust.  Taking away the old and bringing in the new.

When we are back in our college town we drive by that old restaurant and reach for each other’s hands.  I still am with that man who now makes hamburgers for me and our five children. 

The best decision I ever made was to stay at school that weekend.  A decision I will never, ever regret.

So I dedicate this life of perfection (or as perfect as it can get) to Stan! How could I write a real love story without you?  I love you!

CART BEFORE THE HORSE revisited pt 1

Happily ever after doesn't always start with first comes love...

Gabriel Maguire thought he'd buried his past until the night he met Holly, only to lose the woman he cared about, again.

Holly Jacobs has always put the cart before the horse. A prodigy who shot to stardom in textile design, she never knew a normal life—and there's nothing she longs for more than to be normal.

Pregnant before she even knows the name of her baby's father, Holly has put the cart miles ahead of the horse this time. But when she and Gabe meet for the second time, they decide to have their baby together. Holly finally begins to accept her unique way of doing everything backward, but Gabe's very normality drives her up the walls. Then his tragic past rears up; pain and loss threaten to destroy forever the fragile bond that has blossomed between him and Holly.

Sometimes the only way to get where you need to be is to put the cart before the horse.


This week I am revisiting the second book I published with my house 5 Prince Publishing. This was the first book I had set in Colorado with actual landmarks. I must say it was a lot of fun to do that. This week I will introduce you to the characters, take you behind the scenes and show you some of the Landmarks mentioned in the book, and introduce you to the author who inspired Holly's career.

For now...here is a little excerpt to introduce you to the bestselling novel

CART BEFORE THE HORSE

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Holly’s feet had gone numb and so had her legs. Another fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds she sat looking down at the stick in her hand. She’d shaken it, cursed it, and waited more than the allotted time, but it hadn’t changed. The word on the stupid EPT stick said the same thing.

PREGNANT.

“No. No. No!” She threw the stick into the sink as she tried to peel her numb legs from the toilet. She’d waited there so long, hoping, unable to look at the test, they wobbled beneath her and she struggled to pull herself upright.

Holly stumbled through her bathroom door and out to the bedroom. The box from the pregnancy test sat on the bed, taunting her. She fell onto the bed beside it. She read and reread the instructions. She’d done it right. She’d done what it said to do, and still it had boldly stated, PREGNANT.

“No!” she screamed and threw the box across the room.

She looked at the clock. It was already seven thirty. Not only had her life been upheaved, now she was falling behind. In exactly an hour and a half she had a presentation to make to a client who could bring in hundreds of thousands of dollars into the company in the next six months. Her meticulous planning and preparation for this very morning had been her focus for the past three months. Now she was nowhere near being on her A-game.

She showered, skipped a few of her usual rinse and repeats, ripped an outfit out of the closet, and grabbed for two shoes. As she buttoned her blouse for the third time, she realized her perfectly organized life had just crashed around her.

There wasn’t time to refine the out-of-control hair for her perfect hairdo. There wasn’t time for more than lipstick, and the shade she’d chosen didn’t do anything for her pale skin. Had she left the presentation in her office or her car? Sweat beaded on her forehead. The phone rang, and she screamed. She threw down her makeup brushes, followed by a string of curses.

“Morning, Holly.” Tracy’s voice on the other end screeched in her ear.

“I am not speaking to you,” she hollered into the phone at her best friend. Ex-best friend, she decided.

“You’re in a mood.” Tracy laughed.

“You have no idea. Leave me alone. I have to get to work.”

“Slow down,” she said. “That’s what I’m calling for. The client canceled. Weather in Chicago has the flights canceled. We have a week to stew over it now.”

“Are you kidding me?” Holly moved her head from side to side to alleviate the tension that had started to pinch in her neck. Was God mad at her? Was he punishing her? What was going on in her life? She glowered at the floor and noticed her shoes didn’t match.

Holly flung herself backward on her bed, the phone still attached to her ear.

“Hol, what’s wrong?” Tracy’s voice had that irritating yet soothing quality that Holly usually adored, but today it was unwelcome.

“I’m just not feeling well.” She couldn’t have spoken more truth.

“I’m headed in. Why don’t you take your time. Take a hot bath and have some tea,” she offered, as she would. Holistic tea would fix the world, according to Tracy Morton.

Nothing would fix her now.

“Fine.”

“Are you still mad at me?” Tracy teased.

“You have no idea,” she repeated, then hung up the phone and just lay there staring at the ceiling. 

An hour later, finally taking Tracy’s advice, she made tea, drank it down, and sat chin deep in a hot bath. She held the telltale stick in her hand. Still it hadn’t changed.

PREGNANT.

“Once more, Holly. Got the cart before the horse,” she said, just as her mother always said to her.

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.

Visit Bernadette at:

www.bernadettemarie.com

www.5princebooks.com/bernadettemarie.html

www.facebook.com/authorbernadettemarie

on Twitter @writesromance

info@bernadettemarie.com

In Remembrance 2013

And we will rebuild...

It is 2013 and today is September 11th. For so many of us this is one of those days where we all say, "Where were you when?" Where were you when we fell under attack? Where were you when innocent lives were taken? Where were you when selfless first respondents lost their lives? Where where you when your sense of security and your daily life as you know it changed forever? I was getting my 1 year-old son ready for his first morning away from me in a Church-pre-K school. I had to let go of one of the people I loved most and let someone watch him for all of two hours so he'd learn what it was about to grow up and go to school. I had to feel insecure with the world around me changing so rapidly I couldn't see straight. And yet, for the sake of my two little babies...I needed to stay calm.  Every year I dedicate my blog to the remembrance of what happened that day. I wore the name of a man, Joseph Mistrulli, on my arm for years, until the bracelet gave way. I didn't know him, but I took it upon myself to learn about him and remember him. Last year his daughter joined me on my blog, bringing two different world together as we are all brothers and sisters. She shared with me a poem she'd written for her father in it appears below. In the last year my husband and my eldest son (who was 3 at the time of the attacks) visited Ground Zero. I tear up just thinking of my husband's reaction when he was there. He's a big strong man who had to sit on a bench and cry because it was so emotional. And...in reality...our lives changed that day forever, but we were so far away from it as well. Today I am reposting my blog post from 2012. I ask that you take a moment to think of all those who died that day and all of those who have fought for us to stay free and safe. Hug everyone you know. Bring peace into your own life and walk through life with a purpose. You never know when you'll be called upon.

IN REMEMBRANCE 2012

There is never a day that has passed since September 11, 2001 that I don't appreciate the mountains outside my window, the blue sky over my head, and even the sound of air traffic. Today, just miles from my home, at the Red Rocks Amphitheater thousands will walk the stairs, many in full firefighter gear carrying tanks and hoses, to commemorate the day that so many people were lost. For years I have wanted to walk beside them, and still, I make it my goal that someday I will walk that walk.

Last year I was alone on 9/11. I walked in a local parade with my karate family. A sense of community wellness and love was deep in my heart that day.  On the tenth anniversary, I came home to an empty house, void of the six men that I protect and likewise protect me. And I, like I'm sure so many others, was sucked into the television documentaries of the day that had passed.

c/o Colorado 9/11 stair climb 2011

Living in Colorado, let me tell you how it was here. It was quiet.. Eerily quiet. No sounds of air traffic. No kids playing in the streets. No traffic. The world had stopped.  Seeing the footage of New York City, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania, I know that they had no silence.

The media sheltered the world from so much of the devastation. We did not see those trapped and hanging from the windows screaming for help. We didn't see shopkeepers hiding behind their counters avoiding debris. We didn't realize people who lived across the streets lost their homes. It was about the towers.

Last year I think faces were added to our minds.  Last screams. Last phone calls. Last images.

Even now as I think about it tears fill my eyes. Strangers carried each other down flights of stairs as they passed firefighters walking up the stairs. And the devastation of how many families waited and waited for word.

I met a woman at a conference from Nova Scotia who worked at the airport that day. Her stories of the mass amount of planes that had to land there was amazing. With US air closed, this was the only choice.  Airplanes filled the hangers, runways, and highways.  She told us of two young girls who had come from England and were headed to Boston. Their trusting parents put them on a flight, and their grandparents would be at the end of that flight in Boston, but the plane landed in Nova Scotia.  I can't imagine the frantic family there, who wasn't in a tower, who didn't lose a loved one, but because of such a horrible act of terrorism their little girls were lost with strangers.

c/o Colorado 9/11 stair climb Each person carries a name of a
fallen firefighter that died that day in the towers, which they
entered on their own to save lives of others.

What did we learn that day? We learned that we are all neighbors. Thousands of miles away, Coloradans filled blood banks to donate blood. The first plane to fly after the attacks was a private jet from Colorado carrying blood to New York.  We opened our wallets, our homes, and our hearts.  Strangers became brothers and sisters.  We banded together as Americans--as people.

I think of how much it hurts to think about today, from me, a television bystander untouched by the events directly. Sure, I can't meet my husband at the gate of an airplane. I have to take off my shoes to go through airport security. I can't knit on the plane. But I am alive. I am well. I didn't lose anyone I knew and loved with all my heart. If I ache this much...I think of those families.

Every year I honor a man I never met with my posts.  It started with my sister-in-law asking my husband to get her a bracelet with Jason Dahl's name on it.  He was the captain of United Airlines flight 93 which crashed in Pennsylvania, and a fellow Coloradan. He asked if I wanted one and I said no. It felt petty. No good would come if I made a monetary purchase to a company to took a name from a list of those who were lost in such horror. But he bought me one.  I wore it for years.  My son wore it until the metal gave way.  But I didn't let that gift signify just something I wore.  I learned about the man.

Joseph Mistrulli

Every year I pay tribute to Joseph Mistrulli who died when the first tower was hit. He was carpenter working to finish a job, who was to have left the building that morning at eight, a father to three, and a loving husband. His family was gracious over the years to post letters and pictures online so those of us could remember him.  This week I was honored to have his daughter contact me and thank me for keeping his memory alive. Who knew that the events of that day, which live with each and every one of us, would still bring people together.  She has offered to share her story here on my blog and commemorate her father.  I'm beyond honored!

Some of my children were very young when this happened.  Some weren't born. I look at my own life and the tragedies that have happened and the wars that were fought. I know so little about them. Born during the Vietnam War I know nothing about it. World War II, I know a little, but think of the lack of humanity that we know so little about.

9/11 may someday be something that is only called Patriot Day on our calendars, but I hope its not. I hope we continue to educate our youth on that day and to remember it. It was a horrible day. It was a terrorist attack on U.S. soil. And it taught us all that there is still humanity in our society in light of a few who devastated so many lives that day.

Please go hug your kids today, your spouse, your loved ones. Tell a stranger hi. Smile at someone who looks a bit overwhelmed. Give back to the community you live in even if you only pick up a piece of trash.  Be there for each other and don't forget... no matter your skin color, your religious or political beliefs, or your sex... we are brothers and sisters in this life.  Take care of each other.

IN HONOR OF JOSEPH MISTRULLI

This poem was written by his daughter Angela Mistrulli

Who will walk me down the aisle

Who will lift my veil and smile

Who will dance with me to our song

Dancing with anyone else to butterfly kisses would just feel so wrong

Who will catch my tears before fall

Who will love me with the greatest love of all

Who will protect me from all that i fear

I dont understand why you cant be near

Who will be at my high school graduation 

Who will give me a standing ovation

Who will be proud of me no matter what i choose to do

Daddy no one could ever take the place of you

Music is my muse; Silence is my style

Music is my muse; Silence is my style

Growing up I was lucky enough to have both my grandmothers in my life. Both women were always home, but that is where ALL similarities ended. One thing I think about when I think about my grandmothers is that my mother's mother would spend her entire day alone in her house in silence. (And still does) There is never a radio on and the TV doesn't come on until Jeopardy.  My father's mother, on the other hand, never ever turned her TV off! It ran almost 24/7.

I laugh when my mother says she has the TV on for noise. I get that. When I'm folding laundry I turn on NCIS for the noise. But when I work...there is silence.

People ask me all the time how I can work with 5 sons running a muck. Somewhere I have learned to tune out the chaos and get my writing done. But when they are at school, and I have the house to myself...there is silence.

I don't listen to a radio, iTunes, Pandora...you name it. There is no TV on for noise. I can sit at my computer for six straight hours and not have another sound, but the sounds I make. (I do admit to having conversations. What good writer doesn't?)

Now, that's not to say music isn't important. When I run I notice that if a certain song comes on I run faster or I slow down. Very powerful. And in the car...I can't stand to have it quiet (most the time.) Music feeds me. I've written more than one book off of no more than ten words in a song. I don't write the book off of the meaning of the song, but the words spark something. Yes, I wrote a whole book off of a line that talked about tapping the brakes to show the tail lights!

So, music is very important in my life. I live it, I breathe it, I enjoy it. But when it comes to working...silence is my style.

What's your style?

RELEASE DAY!!! Lost and Found book 5 in The Keller Family Series

Could I possibly be more excited than to finally have the release day for Lost and Found? This book is the fifth in the well received, Bestselling series, The Keller Family Series.

In Lost and Found we travel 20 years from the last book and follow Eduardo (Ed) Keller, the eldest son of Carlos and Madeline Keller. He's sitting high in the VP chair of Benson, Benson, and Hart and wouldn't you know it, a woman bumps into his life. History repeating itself?

I hope you all enjoy book 5! I know I have received such an outpouring of love for this family it is incredible. I appreciate all of you who have let me know what these characters mean to you.

If you get a chance, stop by my Facebook Page and say hello today! We always have a party over there

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com

Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary

Release Date: May 9, 2013

Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-54-7  ISBN 10:1-939217-54-7

Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-53-0  ISBN 10:1-939217-53-9

Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.htm

Lost and Found

Darcy McCary came to Nashville with some big expectations--to find her birth parents. She had no plans of making a life in Tennessee. But when her sources lead her to Eduardo Keller, her heart took over, and plans changed.  

Eduardo Keller is a man who goes after what he wants and he doesn't have time for playing games. Darcy is exactly the woman he's been looking for to assist him in business and be his partner in life.

Because he loves Darcy, Ed promises to help her find the answers she seeks. What he doesn't know is that if Darcy finds the secret to her past it might mend her curiosity; however, it might also tear apart a branch of the Keller family.

Enjoy an Excerpt from Lost and Found, book 5 in the Keller Family Series

Ed Keller leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk. The view from his office would never cease to amaze him. The view from his uncle’s office was much more spectacular, but he had no reason to complain.

Who would have thought, nearly twenty years ago when he’d asked for an after-school job to afford a limo ride to take a girl to prom, that he’d end up with the title Vice President on his business cards.

He laughed. He couldn’t even think of the girl’s name that had squeezed at his heart. She’d been older. That he remembered. But he’d never done well with older women.

Now he sat atop an empire that his uncle’s grandfather had started and his uncle’s father had carried on. But it was Zach Benson who made it what it was today.

Benson, Benson, and Hart built big—built on time—and built under budget. Nothing had changed.

Ed didn’t have a foreman like Zach had. His other uncle, John Forrester, had been the best foreman any company could have asked for. A loyal employee until Ed’s Aunt Arianna made him retire only two years earlier. But another would come along. Right now he had to focus on a new assistant.

Interviewing people for a position shouldn’t be an issue. He’d been doing it for years. But a personal assistant had to be in your business, and he didn’t like that.

He’d fought it for years. Temps were good. They came, did the work, and left. He figured it was kind of like dating the wrong girl. There weren’t any he wanted to spend his life with.

Perhaps his expectations were too high. After all, his Aunt Regan had been Zach’s assistant. They’d been married nearly twenty-five years, and she still took care of him. It wouldn’t be long before Tyler and Spencer, their sons, would be sitting in Ed’s seat.

Ed dropped his feet to the floor and pushed up from his chair. When the time was right, he’d find the assistant of his dreams. He’d given up on the woman of his dreams, so an assistant would have to do.

He walked to the elevator and pressed the button to go down to the lobby. There was a Starbucks there now, and he’d grown very fond of caramel lattes, thanks to his Aunt Arianna, though he didn’t go for the skinny version. His Uncle John would say it was a bit too frilly a drink for a man in the construction business. His Uncle Zach, on the other hand, would argue that it was a good stress reliever.

Ed laughed at himself. What an eclectic bunch of people he had in his family. And even without them there with him, he still enjoyed them.

The gathering of the masses in the Starbucks also entertained him, almost as much as the thoughts of his family and their differences.

Ed ordered his drink and stood at the counter waiting for it to be handed to him.

As he looked around the store, he mentally spotted and named each kind of person. There was the tourist, the executive, and the assistant. There was a couple, obviously just downtown for the day and…hmmm, one that stumped him.

She was professional, probably interviewing by the way she was dressed, but she wasn’t comfortable with the big building and the mass of people. She was using Starbucks as a common ground, something familiar, to ease her nerves.

He listened as she ordered her drink—decaf and nonfat. What fun was in that, he wondered.

She tucked her change back into her purse, walked to the end of the counter, and stood behind Ed to wait for her drink.

Flowery perfume filled his nose. She had a sweet side.

The lady behind the counter handed Ed his iced caramel latte. He turned to leave and, he’d say so himself, that was when things got interesting.

The woman who had been standing behind him, searching in her bag for something, looked up just as Ed turned around. She shifted to move out of his way, but instead she moved right into him.

Ed’s hands slipped from the condensation on the cup, and the entire, cold drink poured down the front of the woman.

She let out a stifled scream, and her hands went into the air. “Oh-my-God!”

“I’m very sorry.”

Ed turned toward the counter and grabbed a handful of napkins. He would have helped to mop up her clothes, but he noticed that the white, silk shirt clung to her and decided it just wasn’t a good idea to try.

“Look what you did!” She ripped the napkins from his hand and began to blot away the coffee, which had already stained the shirt.

“Sorry, but I think you ran into me.”

She snapped her head up again. “Oh, men. You’re not always right, you know. Sometimes you do make mistakes.”

Not only was she not as sweet as her flowery perfume, she was jaded. Bad news.

“Again, I’m very sorry. How can I help you?” He turned and reached for more napkins, but when she pulled them from his hand, he noticed she was crying.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

“I still think I can help in some way.”

“Listen. My suit is ruined. This is the only one I have. I was searching for a job, and I can’t do that now. I can’t hand out resumes looking like this.”

Ed watched as the woman continued to wipe off her blouse, but to no avail. It was ruined, but he still wasn’t going to take the blame.

“Are you looking for a job in this building?”

She let out a grunt. “Why else would I be here?”

“I was just asking. I know most of the businesses in the building. Perhaps I can help you out.”

The woman pursed her lips. “I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. You seem to be in need of a job, and I’m sure I can help you find one.”

“What, do you own this place?” She waved her arms in the air.

“Let me see your resume.”

The woman stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. That wasn’t new. You didn’t run a multi-million dollar company in your mid-thirties without people giving you a shifty eye.

Her coffee was set on the counter. He moved in to grab it, but she moved quicker. “I’ll get this. I can’t afford to waste a sip of this. It’s my breakfast and lunch.”

She picked up the coffee and moved to a table where she set down the cup and pulled a resume from her bag. She handed it to Ed. “Here it is. I hate to say it, but I’m desperate. If I don’t find a job in three days, I have to go home.”

“Why? Does that suit turn back into a pumpkin and your glass slipper breaks?”

“Have you ever been desperate for anything in your life?”

He didn’t have anything to say. The only desperate thing he’d ever done was ask his uncle for a job at fifteen so he could get that limo to prom. Look where it landed him twenty years later. She was right. He’d never been desperate for anything.

“How do you feel about assistant work for a commercial builder?”

“You actually know of a job?”

“I actually know of a job.” He folded her resume and tucked it into his pocket. “Ed Keller is an executive at Benson, Benson, and Hart. He needs an assistant.”

Her face went pale, and her lips parted. This reaction went beyond her reaction to his spilling his drink on her. “That was the business I was going to leave my resume with.”

“You’re into architecture?”

He watched as she swallowed hard, but the color hadn’t returned to her cheeks yet. “Not exactly, but you think you can get me in there?”

“I’m sure I can.”

She nodded and picked up her coffee. “You don’t think Mr. Keller will mind my attire?”

Ed smiled. “I guarantee he will be fine. Your resume is impressive. I’m sure that he’d understand that accidents happen.”

She nodded again, nervously. “I’m still mad that you ruined my suit.”

“And I’m sorry that you bumped into me. But if you’ll come with me, I’ll get you a job. And, if you’re hungry for lunch later, there is a hot dog cart out back. I’d love to buy you some lunch.”

Darcy watched the elevator doors close. She was alone with the man who had ruined her day, but also had offered her an opportunity. She was scared to death.

She’d planned this day for so long. Now she was in the building, and she was headed to the company offices of Benson, Benson, and Hart.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She hadn’t expected this. It was in her plans, but as the doors opened to the floor and the name was before her on the wall in big, shiny letters, she thought she might just throw up.

She only knew one thing about herself—her past—and it had led her to Benson, Benson, and Hart. She’d planned to attempt to, at least, get in the door since all the other jobs she’d applied for had fallen through. The journey to find out about herself wasn’t supposed to drop her in the office where she knew her all her answers would lie. This was supposed to be months down the road when she’d had time to explore more about herself and where she’d come from. Now what?

The man exited the elevator and looked at her. “Are you coming?”

“I seem to be very nervous.”

He reached for her hand and pulled her gently from the elevator. He took off his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders. It was a courteous move to hide the huge stain on her blouse, which she knew she’d caused because she wasn’t paying attention, but she still wasn’t going to let him think he didn’t do it. Men would use you if you weren’t careful.

The man led her to an office, and the name on the door read EDUARDO KELLER. She sucked in a breath as he opened the door and walked in.

“Have a seat.” He pointed to the chairs in front of the desk.

Darcy took a seat, set her bag to the side, and then slid her arms through the sleeves of the jacket he’d draped on her. She probably looked ridiculous. He was at least six feet tall and broad shouldered. She wasn’t very tall at all, and she didn’t even come close to filling out the jacket.

The man sat behind the desk and turned on the computer monitor.

“Should you be doing that?” she asked.

“I need to find the application information to fill out for the human resource department.”

“You’re going to fill it out?”

“I usually do when I’m hiring people.”

She looked around the office. Eduardo Keller had no personal affects. The man must be all business.

“Why are you doing the hiring?”

The man stopped what he was doing. He folded his hands on the top of the desk and gazed at her with dark brown eyes.

“Because I’m Ed Keller.”

Ed had seen his share of angry women in his life. When this woman’s face turned the color of Santa’s suit, he knew he’d crossed the line.

She stood from the chair and grabbed her bag. “Do you think this is funny? You’re messing with my life.”

“Whoa.” He stood from his seat. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? I will not calm down.”

“I’ve seen your resume. You’re very qualified for the position I need to fill, and I’d like to help you.”

“Help me?” She lifted the bag onto her shoulder. “Help me? Why would you want to do that? You’re just some stuck-up executive who can play with people, like spilling coffee on a woman to get her into your office. Is this what you do here?”

Ed planted his hands firmly on his desk and looked at her. “You told me you had three days to find a job. You told me I ruined all your chances by messing up your blouse. So you can either hear me out, or you can leave here with your stained clothing, your wrinkled resume, and your bad attitude and find a job.”

The woman sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “What is the job?”

“Executive assistant.”

“To you?”

“Yes.”

Her shoulders dropped, and she bit her bottom lip. She was contemplating, but he didn’t know, in his own heart, which way he wanted her to go now. It was very likely he’d just made a big mistake offering it to her if she was so volatile.

The woman set her bag back on the ground and extended her hand to him. “Darcy McCary, your new assistant.”

Darcy studied Eduardo Keller as he shook her hand. Was he happy? Mad? Oh, he’d been messing with her, and now she really felt stupid. But she needed the job, and he was right—she was very qualified. She needed to find an apartment and establish some savings. Private investigators hadn’t been cheap, and she couldn’t tell her father that she’d hired them.

She had a debt to pay and a life to understand—her life.

Darcy McCary was in Tennessee to find her birth mother, and the investigator told her that all ties led to Nashville and to Benson, Benson, and Hart

FOLLOW THE KELLERS IN THESE OTHER KELLER FAMILY BOOKS

 Buy links to all of my books are at www.5princebooks.com/bernadettemarie.html

Bernadette Marie has been an avid writer since the early age of 13, when she’d fill notebook after notebook with stories that she’d share with her friends.  Her journey into novel writing started the summer before eighth grade when her father gave her an old typewriter.  At all times of the day and night you would find her on the back porch penning her first work, which she would continue to write for the next 22 years. 

In 2007 – after marriage, filling her chronic entrepreneurial needs, and having five children – Bernadette began to write seriously with the goal of being published.  That year she wrote 12 books.  In 2009  she was contracted for her first trilogy and the published author was born.  In 2011 she (being the entrepreneur that she is) opened her own publishing house, 5 Prince Publishing, and has released contemporary titles and began the process of taking on other authors in other genres. 

In 2012 Bernadette Marie found herself on the bestsellers lists of iTunes and Amazon to name a few.  Her office wall is lined with colorful PostIt notes with the titles of books she will be releasing in the very near future, with hope that they too will grace the bestsellers lists.

Bernadette spends most of her free time driving her kids to their many events.  She is also an accomplished martial artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.  An avid reader, she enjoys most, the works of Nora Roberts, Karen White, Megan Hart, and Gretchen Galway to name a few. She loves to meet readers who enjoy reading contemporary romances and she always promises Happily Ever After.

The 5 Minute Writer

Yes, I have five sons (six and a half years from top to bottom), I run a growing publishing company, I still have a few salon clients, AND I’m the best selling author of seven books. At the end of 2013 I will have fifteen books on the market with 5 Prince Publishing (mine) and our catalog will boast over 50 books (of other awesome authors)! So I am asked, almost on a daily basis, “How do you find time to write?”

I often answer that this is my calling. I was born to be an author. The story ideas have never run out and neither have the words. But often, yes, the time does diminish.

The other day I was asked again about my writing and I told my friend “I write in 5 minute increments,” which I do. I’m a HUGE fan of the kitchen timer, and have always been.

I was raised this way. My mother always had a ToDo list and she chunked it off in increments. Because, admit it, you’ve started a quick project and then it led to something else…and so on…and so on… By making a list, and breaking it down into timely increments, I can chunk away that list and feel some accomplishment. So, back to writing this way.

I’ve had days where I have nothing to do but write. Wow! An entire six to eight hours at my disposal, and yet I only get a page or even a few words written. However, my mind stays fresh and engaged if I work hard and walk away—often.

I’m sure, those of you who are authors—or of any creative persuasion—understand that our minds cannot focus on one task. We read more than one book at a time, have more than one project going at a time, and yes, we write more than one book at a time. By allowing yourself that stopping point you give yourself permission to move to something else, even for just a few minutes. I work from home. Some days, the next ten minutes are changing out the laundry, doing jumping jacks or karate forms (yes…this is a great way to get your steps in, because we tend to sit on our butts a lot!). If I’m cleaning or taking care of a publishing task, I’m more apt to do my best and do it quickly so I don’t have to worry about the “non-creative” task that I’m tending to.

And yes, sometimes five or ten minutes turns into an hour long writing spree. Sometimes I can’t stop and that’s okay. My main job is to write, but again, giving myself permission to write often and in spurts keeps my mind engaged and flowing freely.

I did enjoy hearing that my friend tried this method. She began writing in small time blocks and was very successful with it. She was getting more words down than she had been in her allotted time for writing. It did my heart good—perhaps because she’s an amazing author and the more she writes the more I get to read!

As always, my blog…my way of seeing things. Hopefully you’ll be able to take a little something from this and make your writing time more productive.

Happy “productive” writing!

Bernadette Marie

Bernadette is the bestselling author of The Keller Family series and the Aspen Creek Series, along with other single titles. You can find her at the following locations. (She loves to interact with her readers, authors, and other industry professionals.)

www.bernadettemarie.com

www.facebook.com/authorbernadettemarie

Twitter @writesromance

info@bernadettemarie.com