Can a hot-tempered
Irish rogue become a loving dad, a heroic cop, and a small town legend?
EXCERPT
Bernie's heartbeat stuttered as his old pickup
topped the gentle rise of land that marked the boundary of his grandparents'
farm. The burned out remains of the old house slammed memories as hard as a
fist into his gut as he braked to a stop.
The
flames licked greedily up the brick chimney, consuming the tinder dry wood
siding, and lighting up the night sky. Bernie bellowed in helpless rage,
dunking himself in the water trough used for livestock before plunging into the
flames and toward the bedroom his grandparents had shared since their marriage
decades earlier.
Fury
fueled his strength as he cradled his grandmother in his arms and carried her
outside, then returned for his grandfather. He laid them side by side on the
cool, damp grass, searching frantically for a pulse. But he knew it was futile.
They were already dead.
Tallie laid her hand over Bernie's
whitened knuckles. Through the sheen of his tears, he saw the mirror of his
sadness in her eyes. He turned his hand over and clasped hers tightly.
Together, they would rebuild. A house. A
family. A legacy this town would never forget.
Bernie lifted his foot off the brake and
drove the pickup a short distance past the site of the old house.
"Is the barn safe?" Tallie
asked. "Perhaps we could set up the tent near there so the boys would have
a place to play if it rains?"
"Good idea." Bernie smiled at
her. "I married a woman who is both beautiful and smart. We'll check it
out."
~ * ~
Bernie pushed open the door to the
general store and stepped inside, pausing to fill his lungs with the remembered
smells of ripe cheese, pickles, cured meats, leather, and tobacco smoke that
had permeated the building's walls since the store opened over a hundred years
before.
Even the old pot-bellied stove remained
in one corner, flanked by several wooden chairs that once invited pioneers to
sit a spell and swap stories.
However, shelves once crowded with
treasures that fascinated Bernie as a boy now held only a few sparse items.
"Well, Bernie O'Shea. I heard you
were back in town." A white-haired old man with a curved back limped
slowly toward him with the assistance of a knobby cane.
"Mr. Haroldson." Bernie walked
across the plank flooring and stretched out his hand in greeting. "I need
a few things to build a house on my grandparents' place."
"So it's true?"
"Yessir."
"Took you long enough to come back,
boy."
"I have a wife and two boys now. We
plan to make our home here."
A slow smile curved the older man's
mouth. "The hell you say."
"Think you could order some lumber,
nails and roofing for the house?"
"Might need some plumbing supplies
and paint too."
"That we might. I can give you the
cash up front."
The old man grinned and clapped Bernie on
the shoulder. "Welcome home, boy. Welcome home."
~ * ~
A satisfied feeling settled in Bernie's
gut as he drove back to his grandparents' property. The feeling lasted until he
topped the rise of land from where he could see the site of their future
home—and a police car parked in the driveway.
Bernie pulled his shotgun out of its rack
as he drove the pickup around the cruiser. He stopped beside Tallie and the
boys, opening the door so it shielded her. When he stepped out of the pickup,
the shotgun was pointed at Randall Weston's chest. "You're trespassing,
Weston."
The chief of police eased back toward his
cruiser. "Just checking out a report of squatters at your grandparents'
property."
"My property. My wife. My kids. Get
off and don't come back."
"Well, that's not very
neighborly—"
The metallic ka-ching of Bernie cocking a
shell into the barrel had Weston back-stepping quickly. He slid behind the
wheel of the police cruiser and sped away.
ALSO BY GENIE GABRIEL
Three generations of independent women, driven in
different directions by one man’s anger. Until his death reconnects them with
their mystical Irish ancestors and wonders beyond this limited human existence.
Trained in the shamanic arts by her Irish grandmother,
Chessie Durand travels to alternate worlds to rescue animals in danger. Aided
by her Chosen One, an angel dog and a mysterious merkaba necklace, she
discovers powers unknown to most humans.
Ever practical, her mother provides a sanctuary for
these alien and exotic species stall-beside-stall with barnyard creatures. And
when their paradise is threatened by ignorance and poachers and unknown dangers
beyond the stargates, Marlise loads her shotgun and joins the fight.
REVIEW:
I Want to Have the Heart of
a Dog
Genie Gabriel
Reviewed by Jeffrey
Ross
Five
Stars
for animal lovers! -- a must read about the indisputable connection between
people and their dogs...
I want to have the Heart of a Dog is an amazing text.
Perhaps it is a collection of significant life history vignettes, stories which
show powerful and dramatic moments and events in the lives of the author, Genie
Gabriel, and her loving fur babies. Perhaps Heart
of a Dog is a powerful Reikie
(an ancient method for channeling life force energy for relaxation and healing)
manifesto, a calming book that celebrates the spiritual connections between
humankind and dogs—and the complex journeys we share daily. This book will make
readers smile, laugh, perhaps even weep-- but everyone will come away
enlightened and joyful. All the wisdom
and positive influences of the author’s canine friends are
"channeled" in each chapter.
The emotional and spiritual power of this book is obvious-- and refreshing.
Hopefully, each person who enjoys this lovely text will come away with “the
heart of a dog”—and a new understanding of life’s ultimate and profound
meanings.
BLURB
One woman's journey that
started with murders of passion in an Egyptian-like civilization two thousand
years ago. After suffering betrayal, abuse and violent deaths through lifetimes
of atonement, she comes to the present day realization that dogs are much more
than furry companions. They are protectors, comforters, and teachers whose
hearts contain the simple and miraculous knowledge of the Universe—if only we
listen and learn.
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