The Mother Stone

The Mother Stone [The Harlie Series Book II] 
by J. F. Bernard

THE MOTHERSTONE, a sequel to Book One of the Harlie Series, completes the ‘Expedition’ which Homer Skinner and company have undertaken in search for the lost gold mine of Cornelius Wainwright. When they finally arrive at the site of the doomed excavation, no one is more surprised than Elmo Cotton, the ‘Lucky Number’, a poor black sharecropper who came along looking for adventure (and perhaps a new bathtub for his wife), to find out that there is much more in store than he ever anticipated. As it just so happens, Red-Beard, a.k.a Rusty Horn, stumbles upon what turns out not only to be the cause of the original catastrophe, along with his own death, but the one thing that will eventually lead Elmo to his ultimate destiny, a destiny that will take him to places he could only dream of, and beyond. It is an adventure of metaphysical realities, hidden truths of the past, culture, philosophy, politics and religion, all mixed with a healthy dose of pure Americana as viewed through the unassuming and kaleidoscopic mind of the Harlie… and, of course, the Motherstone. 

About Author:

I was born and raised in New York City but presently hang my hat in Port Saint Lucie Florida where I now live contently, and in relative comfort, along with my lovely wife, Maria, and my two little tax deductions…I mean kids, Wesley 9 and Maria 6. I’m a civil engineer by profession (hey, got to pay those bills somehow) who’s been writing off and on for about the last twenty years with moderate but satisfying success

I actually prefer, and am probably better at, writing non-fiction, which, for whatever reason, seems to be a hell of a lot easier to sell nowadays, especially when it meets the current moulds and criteria set forth by the ‘big publishing houses’ that continue to churn out such modern day classics as (fill in the blank). Then again, sometimes there is more truth, and facts, to be found in one page of fiction than there is in the entire Sunday edition of the New York Times. But first you got to get it printed. Right? And in the immortal words of Mister Herman Melville (Moby Dick), another author rejected by his contemporaries and who died in virtual obscurity: “Dollars dame me! What I write, I can not sell. But to write any other way, I cannot.” I think I know how he felt. 

Hell! Writing good fiction is hard. I don’t care what anyone says. But it’s also rewarding, if not monetarily (Hey we’re, talking New York Times Best Seller here – Ain’t we?) then at least in the more personal sense that it is, after all, your own creation and, therefore, one could only assume, beyond criticism. But people are sometimes cruel, and will find fault in just about anything, even our own children. Speaking of which…They are the real reason I began these stories in the first place, other than my own personal ego, of course.