My own private war to write ‘The Stolen Children of War’ by Jina Bacarr
September 11, 2025 by Jina Bacarr in category circus, Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as children, circus, France, Paris, writing, WW2
War is hell.
Writing can also exact a toll on you that’s hard to come back from. I don’t propose to compare the valiant efforts of our soldiers, amazing servicemen and women, to me sitting safe behind a computer and writing about war. Not at all. I never served in combat, but I did counsel men who did (this was before women were allowed to fight in combat) and I heard the stories late at night sitting around a big, ole aluminum coffee pot in the US Army Service Club or playing pool with the men. We had a lot of soldiers passing through on their way ‘back home’ who felt more comfortable talking to me about their experiences than their families.
I was so young… and not a trained counselor or psychologist. But I did have one thing: I’m a good listener. Something taught to me by the nuns, especially the wise and round-faced Sister Mary Celestine at St Peter’s. I learned a lot from these Army and Air Force soldiers about brotherhood and loyalty and being ‘blooded’ and that unbreakable bond these men had with their units. I envied that. I wondered how we women would fare in such tense situations under fire.
Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to write about women in war.
My last several books are about Paris during the Occupation by the Nazis and the brave women who fought in the Resistance even as they fell in love and raised children. But writing about such intense times does take a toll on you. Especially when you’re fighting your own pain from an accident and struggling to make a deadline. (I thank God for my fabulous editor Isobel who was with me during this time and never gave up on me.)
Then I remember the sacrifice made by the women and men fighting the Nazis. My God, would I have had the courage to do as they did? I like to think I could and every day I strive to do what I can to help others… whether it’s at the market and someone needs help, or a nervous, new receptionist at my doctor’s office starting her first job.
The world is a scary place.
I also give thanks every day for what I have. Shelter, food, my treasured books I’ve collected since I was a little girl. And the Internet. Which allows me to share my heartfelt stories with you.
So, here we are… the hot days are slowly giving way to cooler temperatures. And with the advent of Fall, I’m so excited to announce my next Paris WW2 book, The Stolen Children of War.
I’m so thrilled with this fabulous cover.
It’s so circus-y!
That’s Lia, my heroine. A trapeze artist and trick rider since she was a kid.
The two children she saves will steal your heart as they did mine!
There’s also a stolen baby, handsome heroes, and an adorable baby elephant.
And a mystery, too… a madman threatening circus queens….
It’s a glorious ride of heart, passion, and razzle dazzle under the big top!
Can’t wait to introduce you to the world of circus during the Occupation of Paris 1943 when the children needed the joy of circus more than ever!
Out 10th November https://mybook.to/ChildrenOfWar
0 0 Read moreAnyone remember paper dolls? Why AI can’t compete with a trip down memory lane by Jina Bacarr
August 11, 2025 by Jina Bacarr in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as AI, France, German, imagination, movie star, paper dolls, Translation, writing
I have the best memories when I was a kid playing with my paper dolls.
From Sleeping Beauty to In Old New York (Colonial Paper Dolls), I cherished these fragile cardboard dolls with paper dresses with tabs that never stayed on (bobby pins worked!) and kept them in my box of treasures.
Yes, I still have them.
I invented names and personalities for each paper doll, designed clothes for them, and stuck them between the pages of my math book so I could play with them when I was supposed to be doing homework.
As a child, I didn’t have AI answering questions for me, or a cellphone screen telling me what to think, wear, or ‘influence’ me. I made up the stories and created worlds with my paper dolls down to the smallest detail.
And that is what forged my writing.
Imagination.
We writers must continue to craft stories to engage readers to encourage them to use their imagination, even if the words flicker across a computer screen and not the printed pages of a book. To bring our characters into their world so they can identify with them, to feel for them when they’re sad, happy, fall in love.
It’s called being a human. AI has its place, I don’t dispute that, but it’s not the whole enchilada. How can it be?
I doubt AI ever played with a paper doll.
Have you?
My best wishes to you!
Jina
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We have a new German translation for THE RESISTANCE GIRL.
Paris, 1943. Sylvie Martone is the star of French cinema, and adored by fans. But as Nazi officers swarm the streets of Paris, she is spotted arm in arm with an SS Officer and her fellow Parisians begin to turn against her.
However Sylvie has a secret – one she must protect with her life…
Paris, 2020. Juliana Chastain doesn’t know anything about her family history. While her mother was alive she remained very secretive about her past.
So when Juliana discovers a photograph of a glamorous French actress from World War Two amongst her mother’s possessions, she is in shock to find herself looking at her grandmother – especially as she is arm in arm with a Nazi Officer…
Desperate for answers, Juliana is determined to trace the journey of her grandmother. Surely there is more to the photograph than meets the eye?
But as she delves into Sylvie’s past, nothing can prepare Juliane for the tales of secrets, betrayal and sacrifice which she will uncover.
Here she is from DP Digital Publishing: Die Tochter der Résistance
Ein historischer Roman über das Schicksal einer jungen Frau
The Daughter of the Resistance | A historical novel about the fate of a young woman
Wenn Sie in Deutschland sind, hier ist der Link:
https://www.digital-publishers.com/de/romane/die-tochter-der-resistance-historisch-ebook
I’m also excited to announce The Resistance Girl is also being translated into French and Dutch…
Here’s a fun video I made about Sylvie Martone, the heroine of The Resistance Girl:
See you soon!!
Jina
0 0 Read moreLost… no, Found in Translation and where the heck have I been? by Jina Bacarr
July 11, 2025 by Jina Bacarr in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as France, German, movie star, Translation
Sister Mary Celestine would be so upset with me… like the time she made me kneel on my desk and measured with her ruler to see if my green uniform touched the polished blonde wood.
It didn’t.
I was in total teen rebellion, making my uniform shorter so I looked ‘cool’.
I wish I could say I was in teen rebellion to explain my absence, but I just haven’t been my best for a while. I’m homebound, rarely go out or post on social media, and my poor motorcar barely has any miles on it; in other words, I’m trying to heal from injuries sustained several months ago. And continue to write. I’d rather ship myself off to a desert island with teeth-gnashing raptors than let my editor down. Isobel has been so understanding, working with me and giving me extra time to finish my next book. And I did it.
I’m working on edits this week when I realized it’s time to post. Then I realized I missed last month… and before that. I apologize. I’ve been living with massive headaches and hand and shoulder injuries… well, I’m not a downer type, so let’s talk about some majorly good stuff… like finishing my book due out later this year.
And a new German translation for THE RESISTANCE GIRL.
Paris, 1943. Sylvie Martone is the star of French cinema, and adored by fans. But as Nazi officers swarm the streets of Paris, she is spotted arm in arm with an SS Officer and her fellow Parisians begin to turn against her.
However Sylvie has a secret – one she must protect with her life…
Paris, 2020. Juliana Chastain doesn’t know anything about her family history. While her mother was alive she remained very secretive about her past.
So when Juliana discovers a photograph of a glamorous French actress from World War Two amongst her mother’s possessions, she is in shock to find herself looking at her grandmother – especially as she is arm in arm with a Nazi Officer…
Desperate for answers, Juliana is determined to trace the journey of her grandmother. Surely there is more to the photograph than meets the eye?
But as she delves into Sylvie’s past, nothing can prepare Juliane for the tales of secrets, betrayal and sacrifice which she will uncover.
Here she is from DP Digital Publishing: Die Tochter der Résistance
Ein historischer Roman über das Schicksal einer jungen Frau
The Daughter of the Resistance | A historical novel about the fate of a young woman
Wenn Sie in Deutschland sind, hier ist der Link:
https://www.digital-publishers.com/de/romane/die-tochter-der-resistance-historisch-ebook
I’m also excited to announce The Resistance Girl is being translated into French and Dutch…
Here’s a fun video I made about Sylvie Martone, the heroine of The Resistance Girl:
And now back to my edits…
See you soon!!
Jina
4 1 Read moreThe TITANIC set sail 113 years ago…with a Pig on board by Jina Bacarr
April 11, 2025 by Jina Bacarr in category Jina’s Book Chat, Reading, Titanic, Writing tagged as #Historical, 1912. historical romance, British, Confessions of a Podcast Goddess, countess, Downton Abbey, England, Ireland, Irish, pig, romance', ship of dreams, Southampton, Titanic, Titanic 104
Photos: Dreamstime.com — female passenger and of course, the little pig.
Hard to believe it’s 113 years ago today the grand ship Titanic left Ireland.
So in honor of the souls who perished that night and those who survived, here is a lesser known story about the Titanic.
And a little pig.
According to the New York Herald on April 19, 1912: Five women saved their pet dogs and another woman saved a little pig, which she said was her mascot.
The reporter goes on to say that she didn’t know how the woman cared for her pig aboard the Titanic, but she carried it up the side of the ship [the Carpathia, rescue ship] in a big bag.
How did the pig get into the lifeboat?
Was the little pig traveling first class?
In a word, yes.
More about this intrepid little piggy and the important part it played in the sinking of the Titanic later. First, it seems you can’t get away from pigs and the Titanic.
In the Julian Fellowes’ mini-series Titanic, a passenger in third class isn’t happy about traveling steerage to New York. She tells her husband that her daughter said their Irish Catholic family is like six little pigs packed into that cabin, all trussed and bound for market.
They’re not the only Irish aboard the ship with pigs on their mind.
Ava O’Reilly, the heroine in my historical romance, THE RUNAWAY GIRL nearly doesn’t make it on board the ship because of a pig.
Katie runs away from the grand house where she is in service after she is wrongly accused of stealing a diamond bracelet. The law is after her, but she has one chance to escape.
The Titanic.
Will Ava make it on board the Titanic before she sails? Only by the skin of her teeth.
Does she see the pig during the crossing?
Few passengers did because the cute little pig with the curly tail was the lucky mascot of Miss Edith Russell.
She loved to wind up its tail and it would play a lively musical tune similar to a two-step called Maxixe.
You see, the pig was musical pig.
The reporter on the Carpathia didn’t know the real story behind Miss Russell’s pig. How it was given to her after she survived a horrific motorcar crash. She promised her mother it would never be out of her sight. When she realized the Titanic was sinking and she’d left her mascot in her cabin, she sent the steward to retrieve her lucky pig.
Still, Edith was hesitant to get into a lifeboat. When a seaman tossed her pig into a boat (believing it was a baby wrapped up in a bag), Edith insisted on getting into the boat, too. Its nose was gone and its legs broken, but Edith and her little pig escaped in lifeboat no. 11.
Overcrowded with sixty-eight passengers (nearly one-third were children), Edith realized her little pig could comfort others as it had her. She wound up its tail so it would play music for the children. Most of the little ones stopped crying as the pig’s sparkling musical notes calmed their fears.
Its furry, white-gray body wet with sea spray.
Its cute grin giving them hope they would be saved.
It was the little Titanic pig that could.
Thanks for stopping by!
~Jina
The Runaway Girl
Buy Links:
Amazon:
Audible https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084MM1D4R
Spotify https://open.spotify.com/album/3A08bcsCeI6LHWRQTmAM30
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-runaway-girl-jina-bacarr/1135653540?ean=9781838893736
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-runaway-girl-1
Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-runaway-girl/id1492269132
PS check out TITANIC AND ME, my story behind the story on the BOLDWOOD BOOKS Blog.
Once upon the ship of dreams… me dressed as a first class lady
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My Wild Elevator Ride: Why I shouldn’t talk about what I write to strangers by Jina Bacarr
March 11, 2025 by Jina Bacarr in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing tagged as author, elevator, romance, Writer, writingI’m in mad, crazy writer mode.
Which means I’m stuck in a riptide… writing, editing, writing… talking to my characters when I race out to the market and I’m grabbing fresh veggies, oatmeal cookies, and Amy’s frozen enchiladas. Talk to me! I beg my heroines, why did you do that? How am I going to get you out of this mess?
It’s like wrestling an alligator.
Yes, I have a book deadline, so in the interest of providing a fun blog for A Slice of Orange this month, I’m posting a short story I wrote a while ago about what happens when writers can’t help themselves and talk about what we do. So here goes… grab the coffee and oatmeal cookies and enjoy!
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Writers get lonely. We need to socialize, talk. Discover there is a world out there beyond our computers. So I came up with this fun author-character and what happens when she goes out into the world and goes on a wild elevator ride with a stranger…
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My Wild Elevator Ride
I work in a cubicle surrounded by books, computers, and ideas.
I get lonely.
Very lonely. Hey, a girl can only fantasize so much about meeting a sexy guy who’ll knock her bunny slippers off. (I don’t wear shoes when I’m writing.)
So when I go out, which isn’t often when you’re trying to promote your work online and get through the quagmire of finishing your latest novel, I get talkative.
Very talkative.
When my inner goddess gets her gab on, I can’t stop her. My therapist says it’s repressed speech syndrome ad finitum. Or something like that.
Anyway, I got in over my head at a recent gig when I walked into the elevator in my hotel. I was in town to speak at a writer’s group which always makes me a nervous wreck. I was going through my usual ritual to calm my nerves. A six-pack of diet soda and dark chocolate.
The only problem was, the soda was warm.
I like ice. Cold, numbing ice. Makes me forget I have to face a room of creative ladies who are way more talented than I am, but for some reason they think I’m cool. I just got lucky, I tell them, but the truth is, I earned my stripes. Writing, getting rejections for years, and working my butt off. I’m grateful to be where I am.
So what I didn’t need was a guy chatting me up about his hundred-thousand-dollar-a-year sales job and his black BMW. Nice enough, but I wasn’t looking for anything more than an ice machine that worked.
The one on my floor was broken.
Now I was stuck in an elevator with a sales guy who had obviously removed the wedding band from his left hand. His tan line blinked at me like a neon sign. Come on in, it seemed to say, the water’s fine.
I don’t swim with the sharks. [author note: just alligators…]
‘You don’t want to drink alone,’ he said, observing my ice bucket filled with chilled cubes.
‘I have my laptop for company.’ I smiled. “Besides, I have work to do.’
‘Are you here with the software convention?’ he asked warily.
‘Well…’ I wasn’t, but I decided to play along.
‘No way…a pretty girl like you can’t be a techie.’
‘Why not?’ I shot back, perturbed. I hated guys who put down a girl’s ambition. ‘Can’t women use their brains to get ahead?’
‘Not when they have natural attributes…’ He eyed my chest. Mind you, I was wearing navy blue sweats and my pink bunny slippers with floppy ears. This guy was either desperate or he’d been on the road too long.
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ I said, ‘but I’m a writer.’
‘You’re kidding?’ He seemed genuinely surprised, which didn’t help my ego. ‘What do you write?’
Ooh...I couldn’t resist shooting him the punchline.
‘I write sexy novels.’
‘Well, you are full of surprises,’ he said, edging closer to me. ‘We should get to know each other better.’
The air in the elevator suddenly got stuffier and I prayed my deodorant didn’t work so he’d get the message. So far, no one else had gotten on the elevator and I had two more stops before we got to my floor.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I wiggled the ears on my rabbit slippers, hoping to shoot down this guy’s sex-o-meter. That should have stopped him right there.
It didn’t.
‘How about a nightcap in my room? My bottle of bourbon and your—’ He paused, wetting his lips. ‘Ice cubes.’
‘You mean do research for my books?’
‘Oh, yeah…’
‘I bet,’ I said.
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but sometimes we writers just ache to act like our heroines and throw back those snappy remarks. I tried to discourage him, but when he started breathing in my face, I knew I was in over my head. I did what any romance heroine would do.
I dumped the bucket of melting ice on his pinstripe suit.
‘Hey, what the—’ he called out and thank God, the elevator door opened. It wasn’t my floor, but I didn’t care. One more minute with Mr. BMW and I would have ended up served on a chilled platter.
Before he could brush the ice off his shoulders, out I ran. Down the long corridor and then I jammed down the stairway to the next floor to my room.
I never looked back.
I spent the rest of the night drinking warm soda and giggling as I wrote this guy into my story. I bet he won’t forget me either.
I imagine that was the last time he tried to pick up a girl in an elevator wearing pink bunny slippers.
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My latest 2 book series about PARIS WW2:
2 sisters at war with the Nazis… and each other
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/sisters-at-war-2
from BoldwoodBooks
In my story Justine is the victim of sexual assault by the SS. ‘Sisters at War’ explores wartime sexual assault and how it affects the lives of Justine and Eve Beaufort in Wartime Paris.
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I drew on my own experiences when I started a series of historical novels set in Wartime Paris about the brave women who fought in the French Resistance.
Sisters At War: Amazon
Who are the Beaufort Sisters?
They’re beautiful
They’re smart.
They’re dangerous.
They’re at war with the Nazis… and each other.
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