The Ophans of Berlin speak French and me, too, in my videos by Jina Bacarr
July 11, 2024 by Jina Bacarr in category historical, Jina’s Book Chat, Paris, sexual assault, sexual violence, World War 2, Writing tagged as #sexual assault, historcal, Paris, sequel, sexual violence, sisters, Translation, women, World War 2
Once upon another lifetime, I was hired by Universal Studios as a tour guide for French and German tourists. I still have my Universal ID and parking pass…
So when my Boldwood Books ‘The Orphans of Berlin’ was translated into French by City-Editions, well, I couldn’t resist giving it a Parisian try…
I made a bunch of videos in French. Voila! Here are the links to my FACEBOOK page and story to see them.
https://www.facebook.com/stories/10218318286764331/UzpfSVNDOjEyNDQ2ODU2MzY5Njg1Njc=/?view_single=1
https://www.facebook.com/jina.bacarr
Sisters of the Resistance I is off to the proofreader!
Writing the sequel to ‘Sisters At War’ (Paris WW2 — the story of two sisters and how sexual assault on a sister by the SS affects both their lives),
It’s also the story of the women of the French Resistance.
LINK to more info on Sisters At War and Sisters of the Resistance
Who are the Beaufort Sisters?
They’re beautiful
They’re smart
They’re dangerous
They’re at war with the Nazis… and each other.
BONUS The Orphans of Berlin in French
MY FIRST KICKSTARTER by Kitty Bucholtz
July 9, 2024 by Kitty Bucholtz in category It's Worth It by Kitty Bucholtz tagged as kickstarter, Kitty Bucholtz, Little Miss Lovesick
I’m so excited!
On the one hand, my health issues the last couple years have led me to decide to essentially take the summer off and try to figure out how to heal (faster). I’m trying to do that—vacation starts on Saturday!
On the other hand, an opportunity came up, and it sounded fun—so I jumped in! 😅 (This might be the sort of decision that has led to my health improving so slowly!)
I’ve just created my very first Kickstarter campaign! If it funds, I’ll create a special edition of my first book, Little Miss Lovesick. The 13th anniversary edition! 😂 It’s part of Kickstarter’s July promotion for romance books called Heartstrings and Hardbacks. The page just went live today. Here is the link:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/kittybucholtz/littlemisslovesick
Let me know what you think. I am still adding a few more things (digital only this time since I’m just learning Kickstarter, so no paperbacks yet), and I’d love to know if there’s anything you’d like to see available that’s not there. Especially anything funny/fun. I have a few ideas.
And if you’re wondering how easy or hard it was, or why now, let me know and I’ll try to answer your question. Maybe you’ve been thinking about doing a Kickstarter for something too.
And would you do me a favor? Will you go click on the Remind Me button near the top right of the page if you don’t have time to check it out? Maybe even share on your social media? I’m a little desperate to feel that people are even a little bit excited about it. 😅 After all, I’ve never done anything like this before. 😃
Thank you so much!! 😃😍 Reply and ask me your questions!
Some of Kitty’s Books
Unusual Novel Spin Off
July 5, 2024 by Tracy Reed in category Writing I wrote a book of poetry based on one of my characters from The Alex Chronicles series. Love Notes, is thirty one love notes to be shared with a lover daily.Originally, the book was for sale, then I made it perma free. Since making it perma free, it has stayed in the top 100 Free in three categories at Amazon:
#5 in Poetry About Love
#6 in Love & Erotic Poetry
#12 in One-Hour Parenting & Relationships Short Reads
I’m a little biased, but I don’t see where the book should be considered Erotic or a Parenting & Relationships short read.
I don’t complain about the category listing because it gets a great lead into on my other books.
LOVE NOTES NO. 14
I am not easily aroused, however,
When the tips of your fingers graze my skin, igniting visions of what could be, I am.
I am not easily aroused, however,
When I feel the warm air of your breath enter my ear followed by your passionate request, I am.
I am not easily aroused, however,
When I see the deep sway of your back moving to the rhythm only you can hear, I am.
I am not easily aroused, however,
When you walk past me leaving a trail of your intoxicating scent, I am.
I am not easily aroused, however
When you smile, I am.
When I am with you, I am easily aroused. 0 1 Read more
Alina K. Field July Featured Author
July 1, 2024 by Alina K. Field in category Featured Author, Featured Author of the Month tagged as Alina K. Field, Featured Author of the Month, Regency Romances
Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but her true passion is the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwest, after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California where she shares a midcentury home with two furry four-legged girls and keeps a dependable stash of lollipops for the munchkins in her life.
She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances, but loves to hear from readers!
Books by Alina K. Field
Night Vision
June 30, 2024 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as paranormal, short fiction, writing
The night the eyes appeared in the window for the fourth time was the night Casie moved to the guest room, leaving Benjamin to sleep alone in the master.
He laughed at her the next morning. “You were dreaming. There’s nothing out there but a few deer, maybe a raccoon.”
She stirred sugar into her coffee and frowned. “They were glowing—the eyes.” She shivered at the memory, now running on a loop through her brain. “Our bedroom needs blinds or drapes—something to give us privacy.”
The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on a dramatic hillside of wildflowers, studded with hemlock and pine, a captivating view during the daylight hours. But at night, the blackness beyond the glass made her uneasy.
“The eyes were … glowing?” He chuckled. “Some dream, sweets.” He drained his mug and shoved back from the table. “See you tonight.”
She noted that he’d ignored her request.
They both loved the light, airy feel of the house. The wood floors, the kitchen with its cute eating nook, the guest room tucked into the second story—every aspect said this was a place they would be happy in.
And they had been, over the last seven months since moving in.
Until the eyes.
Casie slept lightly on a good night, and tossed and turned on a bad one. Benjamin barely stirred on his side of the bed, even during fierce thunderstorms that had her wide-eyed until the last rumble receded.
A month ago, as summer burst onto the hillside behind the house, Casie saw the eyes for the first time. Benjamin had been out of town and she was reading in bed. She sensed that someone was watching her, but the darkness beyond the windows showed nothing; the shine from the bedside lamp masked any details. Switching off the light, she waited for her vision to adjust.
There, about four feet off the ground, a pair of golden eyes glowed.
With a yelp of fear, Casie fled the room. She spent the next three nights that Benjamin was away lying on the living room couch, the drapes drawn, willing herself to sleep. During the day, she struggled to sit for more than a few minutes at her laptop. She had an article to write, but couldn’t concentrate, jiggling her foot, pacing through the house, stopping to study the yard from the master bedroom’s windows. The hillside beyond was benign, peaceful, lush and green.
When her partner returned, Casie weighed how to tell him what had happened but ultimately opted to say nothing. She began to discount what she’d seen. Had there been something staring at her? Their property was far from any neighbor—that was one of its appeals. An animal—even a bear—posed no threat as long as it stayed on the other side of the glass.
Benjamin was back home for a week before she next spotted the eyes. They had made love in the dark, then turned away from each other to sleep, he facing away from her—and the windows.
She muffled a gasp at the golden eyes, this time positioned higher up, maybe five or six feet from the ground.
“Sweets, what’s wrong?” he mumbled, already drifting into dreamland.
The eyes held their position and slowly blinked. Casie pulled a pillow over her head and closed her eyes. It’s outside, outside, outside. She repeated the mantra silently to herself.
The third night she saw them, she woke Benjamin.
“Something’s out there,” she whispered.
“Where?” He propped himself up in bed.
The eyes, which had appeared only a few feet off the ground, faded away.
“Never mind,” she said.
Sleep would be futile that night, but she took comfort in Benjamin’s soft snoring beside her.
#
Over a dinner of chicken salad, Casie listened to Benjamin recount his day. When it was her turn, she sighed. Her stomach felt as tightly coiled as an overwound watch, with her jiggling left foot the ticking second hand.
“I got nothing done today.” She stabbed a chunk of chicken with her fork. “It’s the weird eyes—I am so freaked out I can’t sit still.”
He shook his head. “This is how you get me to do what you want about those damn windows, isn’t it?”
“I’m not making it up.”
He carried his plate to the sink. “Here’s what I’ll do. When we’re ready for bed, I’ll go out, scout around with a flashlight, make sure we’re safe.” The way he said safe carried a whiff of belittlement.
True to his promise, Benjamin made a show of traipsing through the grasses and wildflowers that grew near the house, while Casie watched from the bedroom. He swept a high-power flashlight across the area, then stepped back inside the room through the glass door.
“Not a spooky thing out there, sweets.”
“Whatever,” she said, resigned that he would never believe her.
At his suggestion, they traded sides in the bed that night; he would sleep closer to the windows.
Perhaps it was that switch, or the effect of her emotional exhaustion, but she fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
When she woke later, her phone said it was nearly two-thirty. In the dimness of the bedroom, she grasped two things: Benjamin was not in bed, and the glass door to the outdoors hung open.
“Benjamin?” she called, but softly, now aware of yet a third thing: The glowing eyes were in the room with her.
The following anthologies contain some of Dianna’s short stories:
