Saturday, November 16, 2019

#AuthorInterview - "The Fourth Victim: Sara’s Story" by Beverley Bateman

Hi, Beverley. Thank you so much for chatting with me today. Let's get started...

Which genre or genres do you write or prefer to write? And why?

I started out writing romance but found I needed to have some mystery or suspense element in the story. The romance alone didn’t do it for me. I read a few straight mysteries and found they were missing that romantic element or a relationship of some kind that needed to be developed. Voila! I combined the two, included a strong female  and find that romantic suspense is exactly where I want to be. And occasionally I’ll throw in a little paranormal for fun.

Who influenced you the most in deciding to become a writer? 

That’s a hard one. I seem to have always been writing but I love Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys and Cherry Ames when I was young, so I’d have to say the books I read.

What gets your creative juices flowing?

A good plot idea and maybe a setting I’ve visited. What if … and it goes from there. I visited New Orleans and had to write a book set there. I took a cruise and wrote a cruise story. And once I get an idea and a setting I can’t wait to get started writing.

Do you have a favorite cartoon character? Why?

I’m a road runner fan. I’m not sure why. I love how he races along and always outsmarts coyote, no matter how hard the coyote plots and devises ways to get the roadrunner. Good always wins over the bad guy and it’s just plain funny.

Who would you love most to meet 'in person' and why?

Interesting question – Margaret Attwood, (I’ve been reading her books since she started writing – Loved Surfacing), Queen Elizabeth because I admire her as a woman and her grace and diplomacy, but if it doesn’t have to be a living person, I think I’d pick Kathryn Hepburn. I’ve admired her for years. She struck me as a strong woman, way back then, who did things her way, didn’t worry about what other people thought and was a wonderful actress. 

If you had an unexpected free day what would you do with it? 

I’d find a nice quiet spot and read. I never seem to find enough time to read and often end up reading well into the night and then dragging myself up the next day. So, it would be lovely to be able to read a book or maybe even a book and half without anyone disturbing me. Maybe a little music in the background.

What are you working on now? 

I’m finishing off Death Southern Style, set in New Orleans and I’m also working on the second book of The Foundation – Lydia’s story. Lydia’s Story is part of my group of strong women each with a paranormal talent series, who train and save other women. I really like writing both of these books and enjoy telling the story. And they both have a touch of the paranormal.

The Fourth Victim Sara’s Story

ISBN – ebook 978-0-9918748-8-0
Paperback 978-0-9918748-9-7 


Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women and on the track of a serial killer.

Mac is been responsible for training women in special ops techniques, so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara, sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.

Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?


The office said he’d had a heart attack. Was he alive? Did she want him to be? What if her husband had to stay home for a few weeks to recuperate? Palms sweating, Sara’s breath came in short, shallow bursts at the thought.

The taxi jerked to a stop in front of the hospital emergency entrance.

Sara fumbled through her purse and counted out her meager number of dollar bills. Gordon didn’t allow her to have a credit card and he only allowed her to have a small amount of cash. She didn’t have enough money to pay the taxi.

“I’m so sorry. I left home without any cash. I...I ... Would you take a check?” Tears spilled over and trickled down her flushed cheeks.

The driver spun around. A short stubby finger waved at the sign over the rearview mirror. “Look lady, it says right there - No Checks.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. My husband has had a heart attack and I ... I don’t know what to do.” Sara ran her fingers through her hair and scrunched the tight bun at her neck.

The driver shook his head. “Aw, shit. Go ahead, lady. Write the check.”

Sara pulled the single crumpled check Gordon allowed her carry for emergencies out of her purse. When she touched the check a vision of Gordon floated in front of her.

She froze and rapidly blinked her eyes. She only saw the ghosts of dead people. Gordon didn’t believe her and forbid her to ever mention it.

Could he really be dead?

“Gordon?” she whispered.

“Lady, are you writing that check or not?”

“Yes, sorry.” Sara scribbled her signature on the bottom of the check. “Please, fill it in, and give yourself a generous tip. Thank you, thank you so much.” She clutched her worn purse to her chest, slid out of the cab, and scurried through the emergency room doors.

What if he was dead? She didn’t have any money. Gordon did all the finances and never shared anything with her. How would she manage?

Twenty years ago, she could have handled it. Could she do it again? But he couldn’t be dead. Gordon would never allow that to happen.

His face flitted in front of her, fixed in an angry glare.

He had to be dead or she wouldn’t be seeing him. He didn’t want to be dead. He didn’t want her to be free. If he thought she could see him he’d be furious.

Sara shuffled toward the reception desk. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for some sign of Gordon, listening for his voice, waiting for him to yell at her. She couldn’t believe he was really dead, even though she had seen him. She clung to the edge of the transition counter, her head down, chewed on her lower lip and waited to be noticed.

Finally a brusque voice snapped, “Can I help you?”

Sara looked up to see a heavy set, older woman in a loose blue top. The woman’s thick dark brows met in a v in the middle of her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I ...I’m looking for my husband. His office phoned to say he’d been brought here.” Sara shrunk into her body.

“Name?” the woman commanded.

“Gordon, Gordon Peters.” Sara stared at her worn black oxfords, then at the scuffed, gray linoleum with the red, blue and yellow lines that led to different areas. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she should have waited for Gordon to call and tell her whether she should be here or not. But if he was dead she would have to make her own decisions. Her pulse raced. Her head pounded. For the last nineteen years she had never made a decision. Gordon made all of them for her.

“When was he admitted?” The woman reminded Sara of a sergeant major.

“I’m not sure, less than an hour ago. They told me to meet him here. Maybe he’s been discharged already?” She chewed her thumbnail. If Gordon had been discharged, he’d be furious at her for spending all that money on a taxi. But she’d seen his ghost.

Tension twisted her stomach into knots. The pain caused her to clutch her purse tightly against her abdomen. She needed to get home and start dinner. She’d have to take a bus. Did she have enough money? She opened her purse.

The woman moved to a second pile of folders and pulled one out. “You’re his wife?”

Sara nodded. “Yes. Can I see him?”

A sob slipped out. If she didn’t find see him soon, he’d be furious. He’d think she was too stupid to even find him in a hospital and he’d be right.

His ghost floated in front of her. This time confusion mixed with his anger

“Have a seat, Mrs. Peters. I’ll have the doctor speak to you.” The sergeant major’s voice softened. She indicated a chair near the desk.

“No, please, I need to see him right away. He’ll be upset if I’m late.”

The woman rounded the desk and laid her hand on Sara’s shoulder. She squeezed gently for a second. “It’ll be okay, honey. You just sit down for a minute. The doctor will be right out.”




Murder, mystery and romance fills award-winning, Canadian author and blogger, Beverley Bateman's life. She loves to plot, kill and hopefully baffle the reader. Her nursing and public health nursing background helps with some details and administering a community care facility program had her investigating and directing investigations into irregularities and sometimes a death. She even has court experience. 

She began writing in her preteens and loved to write locked room mysteries. Reading Nancy Drew helped her figure out plots. Facing breast cancer, she decided she needed to do what she’d always wanted and began to write. She completed her first romantic suspense novel and hasn’t stopped writing since. She recently moved and now lives among ranches and wheat fields in southern Alberta, with her husband and Shiba Inu dog.

Social Links

Webpage https://www.beverley
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  1. Thank you for having me as a guest on your blog, Amber. And your website is lovely.

    1. Of course. You're welcome here anytime.
      Thanks! I love the purple scheme I have going. :)


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