Bernard Tolkien Jensen-Kennard, a.k.a. Bernie, Burns, Bernie-Burnsides, Bernard Kennard
Unknown – 1/20/2020 Approx. 14 years old
I didn’t mean to get you. I drove to California to pick up Mayra. You saw me, jumped in my lap, and leaned against my stomach like you owned me. Carrie said, “Um, he doesn’t do that to anyone else.” Maybe she was pulling my leg. I don’t know, but I said I couldn’t. I already had seven other dogs at home. Adding two more at the same time was insane. So I left you there, with a kiss and a goodbye, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Two weeks later I drove back to get you. I still remember how excited you were. You jumped and hopped and settled right next to me, and when I stood to leave, you followed me to the door. You were going home, and you knew it. When I sat you in the back of the car you looked at me with your vulnerable, uncertain eyes and I knew the question was, “Are you really going to love me?” The minute you got home you knew the answer, and you settled in like you’d lived here forever.
You didn’t listen. You got into everything. You drank my coffee and climbed across furniture. You peed on everything and refused to wear a belly band. (How did you get out of them?) You did whatever you wanted, when you felt like it. You walked through the house farting in the morning, after breakfast, like an old man in a nursing home. “Putt, putt… phoosh.” Deadly butt gas. Despite all this, you charmed every woman you met. We were all clear about your preferences.
I adored you for all of this. I’ve don’t really have a preference for compliance. Why should my dogs?
Then we met Sarah and you fell totally in love with her. Sold me out. Bernard Kennard. (I don’t blame you.)
This morning it was clear to me that your poor little body just couldn’t keep up the fight. Genetic defects of the esophagus. Vertebrae issues in your neck. (F-in min pin breeders in LA.) Prolonged steroid use. It was just time so you could finally rest.
Say hi to Murphy, Scully, Magnum, Penelope, Jude, Junie B. Jensen, Beauregard, David, Dobby, Mabel, Daisy, Mayra, and Ollie. They’ll take care of you until we see each other again.
I’m going to miss you, you little asshole.IMG_3467

Jamis Bachman, Ghost Hunter- REVIEWS

Reviews for Jamis Bachman, Ghost Hunter are coming in. I’m most pleased that my story scared people. Just wait until you see what I’m doing in book 2. (Please keep in mind I read Stephen King & watch Criminal Minds to decompress and relax.)

So you want to get scared? Cry a bit? Talk about consciousness and religion? Fall in love? Heal old wounds? Then read my book and hit me up. Let me know what you think.

Here is what others are saying:

“This is definitely a book you want to read in the daylight hours with lots of people around you.”  ~ Betty

“There were parts I would not recommend reading alone in the dark if you’re sensitive. During the day perhaps.” ~ Carolyn

“This was a perfect trifecta of angry ghosts, murder mystery, and new relationships. I made the mistake of starting this book at night, in bed, by myself just before going to sleep.” ~Cynthia

“Oh, and I’m not a crier, but twice (TWICE) there may or may not have been a couple of tears.” ~ Cynthia

“I loved this story and its sense of place, the philosophical discussions about religion and consciousness, and the possibilities of life after death. But most of all, I loved the complex, relatable primary characters, all on their own journeys towards healing and, ultimately, love.” ~ JaiBee

“I love ghosts. I love ghost hunter shows. And I loved this book.” ~ Carrie

“The author has a way of writing that is fast paced, brief, and cutting. That was mostly apparent with the dialogue. There were so many conversations that I adored.” ~ Carrie

“Ms. Jensen also has a wicked and twisted sense of humor that pops up occasionally in the story. I thoroughly enjoyed those moments.” ~ Betty

“The writing was witty and quirky and self-aware.”  ~ Cynthia

Visit Goodreads to read them all: