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For Veterans Day: A Soldier’s Italian Christmas by Jina Bacarr

November 11, 2013 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

UPDATE: A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is now for sale on Amazon.

On this Veterans Day, we honor those who have served in all wars. For that, we say thank you. As we approach the Christmas Holidays, I’ve often wondered what it was like during World War II for the boys so far from home. In A Soldier’s Italian Christmasthe first of the O’Casey Brothers in Arms series, we meet Captain Mack O’Casey, the oldest of four brothers from Brooklyn who join the fight.

It’s December 1943, one of the coldest winters on record, and the Allied advance to Rome is bogged down on a long stretch of road leading from Naples to the Eternal City.

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O’Casey Brothers in Arms
 
Captain Mack O’Casey and his sergeant have been separated from their unit after intense fighting in Central Italy. They find their way to a small village hit by shelling. Everyone has gone, or so they think…
 
Excerpt from Chapter One:
 
Italy
December 1943
 
Mack edged closer to the door, taking his time, knowing a barrage of bullets could be waiting for them on the other side, cracking their skulls open with sharpshooter precision. Or deadly explosive traps that could blow their legs off. 

He nodded to his sergeant to cover him. His heart pounded in his ears. It never got easy staring the enemy in the eye, but it didn’t do any damn good to stand out here waiting to be picked off like wild turkeys. He kicked the door open and did a clean sweep of the courtyard when a cold chill stopped him.

He froze. Someone had a gun aimed at his back. His instinct never failed.  

“Don’t move,” said a low, sultry voice in Italian. “I know how to use this.”  

For chrissakes, a female. 

“We mean you no harm,” Mack said in English, hoping to gain her confidence. She couldn’t see him in the dark. “We’re Americans, not Germans.” 

“American?” Her voice changed. “Oh, thank God,” she said in English. 

Mack turned around slowly and saw a young woman holding a gun on him. She bent down and turned up the wick on the lantern on the ground next to her and light flooded the small courtyard. He didn’t breathe until he was certain she wouldn’t shoot him. Dark, beautiful eyes sucked the fatigue right out of him. Flashing with a wildness that surprised him, she never flinched. Looking him over with intense scrutiny, she waved the lantern up and down his body. Over his boots, his uniform, the silver bars on his shoulders, and then his face. Her eyes locked with his, her lips parted. Full lips that rendered her face with an exotic aura held him transfixed. The girl was a beauty. Creamy complexion with a straight nose tipped at a perfect angle, expressive dark brows crossed in thought. She clenched her jaw, but her gaze never wavered. An absolute show of power on her part. It was clear she was relieved to see him, but she didn’t fully trust him.  

“I thought this village was deserted,” he said, taking a moment to return her scrutiny. Dressed in a man’s dark pants and heavy jacket, he noticed mud clinging to her boots and the knees of her pants with a torn cuff. A navy blue beret fit snugly over her head, hiding her hair. Curly wisps of silky brown hair escaped onto her cheeks making him wish he could smooth them back with his fingers. Kiss her cheek. “My sergeant and I have been walking for miles since the Nazis big guns cut us off from the main road.”   

Satisfied he was telling the truth, she said, “We’ve been holed up here praying the Allies would come.”
 
As she spoke, half a dozen little boys came from out of nowhere and crowded around her. Mack smiled. Round, cherub faces, black unruly hair. They reminded him of his brothers back home in Brooklynwhen they were kids. The oldest boy couldn’t have been more than ten, the youngest about three. What surprised him was how clean their hands and faces were. Most children he’d seen in Naples since landing near Salerno were dirty and barefoot. 

A familiar itch up crawled his backside. First, the shining cross in the sky. Now a beautiful woman with a brood of scrappy angels. What holy place had he stumbled into?  

“Are you alone?” he asked, wondering where her husband was. Most likely fighting in the North. Ever since the devastating Allied losses in Bari, most partisans had fled into the hills. By the looks of the destruction, the village had been under attack for weeks. 

“No, Sister Benedetto and I stayed behind to care for the children when the town was evacuated.” 

“You’re in danger. The Germans have fortified this whole area with armed defense. Barbed wire and mines.” 

“We are never truly alone, Captain. We have God to protect us.” 

“And now the U.S.Fifth Army, Signorina.” 

She lowered her chin, but her eyes looked directly at him. “I am called Sister Angelina.”
 
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A Soldier’s Italian Christmas (O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1) is the story of a soldier and a nun who discover forbidden love in war torn Italy during the winter of 1943.

It is a sweet romance 35,000+ word novella and is now available as an e-book on Amazon


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If your Christmas reading is on the spicier side (as in erotic), check out A Naughty Christmas Carol about a modern day Scrooge named Nick Radnor. A New York Wall Street hottie who has it all…except the woman he loves.


Can three sexy female ghosts save his soul on this naughty Christmas Eve?

Find out in A Naughty Christmas Carol.
Cover Design for A Soldier’s Italian Christmas and A Naughty Christmas Carol by Ramona Lockwood
 
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The Bride Wore Gray and Mr. Lincoln by Jina Bacarr

February 11, 2013 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,

I’ll never forget the time I had the chance to see the cabin where Lincoln was born. I was nine years old.

It had a dirt floor. Cool, I thought, his mom can’t yell at him for tracking dirt into the house.

It wasn’t the “real” cabin,of course, but a symbolic reconstruction in Central Kentucky to honor our sixteenth President.

I grew up in different parts of the US…but my favorite time was in Lexington, Kentucky.

We lived in what I called the “Civil War” house. It was a big ole home out in the boonies with a barn and plenty of Kentucky bluegrass. According to the locals, the antebellum house was built before the Civil War.

Over the years, the house had different owners, but it never lost its splendor in my eyes. Sure, it was run-down and the plumbing more often than not didn’t work. God knows, it was cold in the winter, but my dad–a historical buff–rented it for as long as my poor mom could take it. It wasn’t easy for her with no dishwasher or washer and an old, wood burning stove with a husband and two kids to take care of. No neighbors for what seemed like miles.

I loved it.

I’d race around the house with fireplaces taller than I was for hours, pretending I was hosting tea with fancy ladies or meeting that special gentleman in what I called my “secret” room. Wearing my mother’s long dresses, I dreamed of being a true Southern belle (years later I got my own authentic hoop skirt from the costume department when I was doing theater).

So it’s no wonder I followed my heart and wrote my own Civil War novel — “The Bride Wore Gray.” It’s a time travel romance where my modern day heroine, Liberty Jordan, meets up with her ancestor–who looks exactly like her! The only problem is, Pauletta Sue, is a Southern spy…

I’m working on formatting my story, making a cover, etc. so I can self-pub it. Which brings up a question: with the popularity of Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln,” will the Civil War make a come-back in romance novels?
What do you think? 
—-
Here’s a sample from the Prologue from “The Bride Wore Gray:”
On a lonely road in the Tennessee woods
1862
Even before she saw the swath of blue moving through the trees, Pauletta Sue could smell them.
Yankees.
The raw male odor of Federal soldiers made her nauseous, but she pushed her horse harder.
They won’t catch me.

“Faster, Savannah Lady, faster!”

Crack! came the sound of her whip hitting the mare’s flanks. Her scarlet-gloved hand trembled as she repeated her command, louder now. The animal sensed her urgency, snorted, then raced ahead down the dark, country road, its hooves making dull, thudding sounds on the hard dirt as horse and rider went deeper into the woods.

The young woman riding sidesaddle winced. What had come over her? She had never struck the beautiful bay mare before, preferring to ride her with only the tight bit and an easy hand, but she had to get through the Yankee pickets. Nothing must stop her from carrying out her mission.
Nothing.

Her gray silk skirts, frayed at the hem, whipped at her ankles. Her long, hooded cloak made of fine black wool, threadbare in places, billowed behind her like heavy smoke, shielding her face from the demons in blue hidden all around her. Ready to strike her down if she dared to stop.
She couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

The danger of her mission chilled her. She dared not think about what lay ahead of her. She feared dying before she found the revenge she sought, for only then could she release the madness and torment of her broken heart.
The man she loved was dead.
Shot as a Confederate spy.
No, no!

All around her, the sounds of the forest—the squeal of a trapped pig, the hard rumble of wagon wheels somewhere in the distance, a faraway cannon firing, the loud orders of Federal officers up ahead of her—were muffled by the loud beating of her heart in her ears.
I will not allow you to die in vain, my love. I promise. 
————–
Best,
Jina 
Jina Bacarr
www.jinabacarr.com 
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Romancing the e-Reader with Jina Bacarr

January 11, 2013 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

Guess who?

I’m your new e-Reader. All sexy swirls and curly Qs. Just waiting for you to click me on and take you to paradise.

Yes, I know, your rabbit vibrator made the same promises…but I’ve got something special to offer you.

I’ve got romance.

I can sweep you away to that special place in your mind where you can fall in love over and over again…and have great sex.

So, put away your bunny vibe and hop aboard!

I’m trim and gorgeous. Sexy design. Botox-smooth case.

Slimmer than I’ve been in years.

Clear, no-glare screens. And those cute keyboards. Like sassy, high-heeled shoes. Makes you want to let your fingers do the walking.

And no more of those pesky page numbers to get in the way. It’s like weighing yourself after you’ve gone on your mocha latte splurge. Who wants to know?

I do have a pet peeve about those TOCs. Half the time the Table of Contents key doesn’t work, sending ahead in the story and you know who’s sleeping with whom before you’ve guessed. it.

And don’t talk to me about Bookmarks.

They’re like old boyfriends who won’t go away. Once you’ve marked them, you’re stuck with them.

Ah, but I can’t stop drooling over the hunky guys on the Cover. Muscle-bound heroes to die for.

Hmm…if I could add just one thing to my e-Reader software…

It would be to have the Cover Hunk in 3-D.

All of him…and you know what I mean!

Happy Romance e-Reading in 2013!

Best,
Jina

www.JinaBacarr.com 

PS: If you want to try out your new e-Reader with an erotic short story, download:

“Breaking the Rules” — FREE today on Kindle Amazon  

A working girl who learns you have to ask for what you want.

At work…or in bed.

—————–


Or try an erotic short story: “Nice Girls Do It” for 99 cents on Amazon Kindle and e-tailers everywhere!

A stormy day and Chloe gets caught in the rain until a mysterious stranger who calls himself “the Hunter” offers her shelter in his old Victorian mansion.

And tells her about the secret ritual of the geisha when she loses her virginity.

Sensual, mysterious, naughty…

Will Chloe lose her virginity before morning comes?

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“Santa, Soldiers, and Orphans, oh, my!” hundred word fiction by Jina Bacarr

December 11, 2012 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , ,



Winter…the days are getting shorter and have you noticed how we communicate is also getting shorter?

We live in a world of texting (“hw r u?”) and Twitter madness that forces us to express ourselves in 140 characters or less. (God help Tolstoy…)

Not to mention acronyms — we plop onto the couch, turn on the DVR or watch a DVD while drinking our OJ, then check out this week’s episode of NCIS.

Now a UK newsletter has come up with “hundred word fiction.”

Indie Book Bargains UK-based Daily Kindle Book Deals

Everyday they publish Kindle deals and a short story with no more than a hundred words.

I thought it would be fun to take up the challenge so I put together a story in less than 100 words. Since it’s Christmas, I wrote a holiday story for the UK newsletter: “Santas, Soldiers, and Orphans, oh, my!” 

Here’s how it appears on their website: 

Santa, Soldiers, and Orphans, oh my!

by Jina Bacarr
“Signorina, Daniele is missing,” whispered the nun.
I panicked. It was hard enough dealing with shell-shocked soldiers and orphans who didn’t speak the same language.
Now I had a lost child on Christmas Eve.
“We’ll organize a search party,” a sergeant offered, relating to a missing comrade in any language. “Al, you’re point man. Bill, you bring up the rear.”
Soon we heard a shout coming from the supply room. “We found him!”
Daniele. A loud cheer went up. Each soldier had a grin on his face. I’ll never forget those smiles.
That Christmas Eve was their first step toward home.
——-
Happy Holidays, everyone!
Jina 
What if Scrooge was a sexy hunk with a smart phone?

Check out my Naughty Christmas Carol book video with my voice-over and the Sugar Plum fairy music along with a very sexy excerpt on my website at: http://jinabacarr.com/anaughtychristmascarol.html 

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5 Tips to self-publishing your mother never told you by Jina Bacarr

November 11, 2011 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Psst…have you heard? Everybody’s doing it. Self-publishing.

It’s hip, it’s cool…it’s like winning the lottery.

Right?

Hmm…maybe. Maybe not. It’s the wild, wild west out in the land of Amazon, Smashwords and Nook. All you need is a dusty, old manuscript from under your bed, a sexy cover and a few .html codes and you’re dancing with the stars.

Oh, what fools we writers be.

It ain’t that easy.

Here’s the deal: You’ve written a good story and your manuscript is in the best shape possible–critique groups, professional editing, etc. Now what?

No doubt you need a good cover and nearly flawless formatting, but don’t give up if you haven’t gotten it all together. Before you push that old manuscript back under the bed with the dust bunnies, it is possible to hitch your wagon to the self-pubbed stars and join in the land rush…or should I say, digital rush.

I did it. I self-pubbed a holiday novella and a short story. There are many blogs that can help you with various aspects of the biz, from J.A. Konrath to Bob Mayer’s Write It Forward (I highly recommend both!), but here are a few tips I’ve learned along the way.

Jina’s 5 tips to self-publishing:

  1. I formatted my manuscript myself with help from Marie Force’s blog–I especially found the info about “tabs” and indenting .33 on the first line helpful.

  2. I bought my cover art from Dreamstime.com They have quality photos and high resolution. You can choose from 12 million photos available on their site.

  3. Be prepared to spend time learning how to format. It’s a high learning curve, but I’ve found both the Amazon (short video) and Smashwords guides to be helpful if you’re willing to make the effort.

  4. Be realistic about your goals. No one can predict how a book will do, but reading the Kindle forums and following other authors can give you an idea of how they’re doing. I follow OCC’s Dr. Debra Holland’s blog–she’s been open and forthright about her experience in self-publishing and her sales. Another OCC author, Jacqueline Diamond (author of 90 novels), has recently self-published books from her backlist and knows the value of promoting her books (she made the top 100 in Regency on Amazon).

  5. Write another book or story right away. Quality and quanity are both important in self-pubbing. You need product to sell. Imagine if a shoe store opened and all they had to sell was one shoe style?

Which reminds me of Cinderella and her glass slipper.

Putting your self-pubbed book out there is like Cinderella going to the ball. She had a team of cute little mice to make her dress (editing, cover and formatting) and a fairy godmother (Amazon, Nook and Smashwords) to make the magic happen.

She also had the moxie to get to the ball. That’s where you come in.

Be like Cinderella. Don’t be late to the self-publishing party.

You’ll never know if the glass slipper fits until you try it.

Best,
Jina

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