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Christmas during the Civil War in 1862 from “Love Me Forever”

December 11, 2015 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


Christmas during the Civil War in 1862 from “Love Me Forever” from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

Christmas is the time of year when we put aside our differences and celebrate the joys of the season.

Even during the Civil War.

No better place to do that than Rosebriar Plantation on Christmas Eve 1862.

The beautiful antebellum house in Virginia has been turned into a battlefield hospital after the Battle of Fredericksburg with Union Army surgeon, Major Flynt Stephens at the helm. There they treat the wounded from both the North and the South.

There’s also a mystery afoot in the major’s eyes. He swears there are two women playing the role of his fiancée and the mistress of Rosebriar.

Identical twins.

But which is which?

Liberty (his lady in gray and a time traveler).

Or:

Pauletta Sue (belle and spy).

I hope you enjoy this excerpt from LOVE ME FOREVER, my Kindle Scout winner.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

~Jina

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December 24, 1862

Christmas Eve
Later that evening . . .

Flynt placed the metal star at the top of the Christmas tree.
Behind him, he could feel the stares boring into his back. Men from both sides lay huddled together in the great hall of Rosebriar, each one believing it was his tree with his Christmas star.
North or South.
He smiled. Wasn’t it Dickens who said every man should keep Christmas in his own way?
That was as it should be, he thought, stepping down from the ladder and standing back to admire the fifteen-foot-tall pine tree the soldiers had erected in the main receiving room. Peace on earth. For now. The yellow flag Flynt hung outside the grand house ensured every soldier knew it was a hospital and both Union and Confederate wounded lay inside. The fresh red,   white, and blue candles glowed brightly and the small net bundles filled with nuts and golden apples hung on the boughs of the tree. Someone had made a strand of beans and strung it around the bottom. Glass ornaments, round and blue and silver, hung on the top branches.
New-fashioned ornaments he’d bought on a whim back in medical school before the war. Who could have predicted this horrible conflict? And its casualties. Outside, a heap of amputated feet, legs, arms, and hands lay at the foot of an oak tree a few yards from the main house, waiting to be taken away.
Light, melting snow covered the pile.
But the weather was turning clear and mild.
He prayed that was a good sign and next Christmas would be different, though talk was the country was discouraged after the devastating Union loss two weeks ago at Fredericksburg. The people didn’t want to continue the war. If Burnside and the other generals couldn’t pull off a victory soon, he doubted if the government would get the support it needed to go on with the war.
That meant supplies.
Field hospitals were in want of fresh food, especially fruits and vegetables, causing cases of scurvy to break out. Rosebriar, on the other hand, had more than enough stored food and wood and, thanks to Pauletta Sue, the wounded benefited. They had fewer deaths and less cases of typhoid. It amazed him how a few changes in procedure saved so many lives.
Flynt let his gaze wander over the soldiers brought into the hall, most reclining on straw mattresses. Some had spent days in tent hospitals, lying on the frozen ground with only pine or twigs underneath their blankets. Every man able to sit up or raise his head was brought in to enjoy the Christmas celebration.
He’d never forget the look on the men’s faces when Pauletta Sue went around to each wounded soldier and gave him a small glass filled with brandy, insisting on using as many clean glasses as possible. Aunt Fairinda raised a ruckus in the kitchen, but she calmed down when she saw the men smile. He could still hear the hushed voices of his cook and the other servants oohing and aahing over the tree, saying it was just like the old days before the war started. Even Old Dan shed a tear. Surprised Virginia folk knew how to do up Christmas right, he’d said, like Tennessee folk.
And the singing.
Flynt’s heart warmed to the voices of the wounded men lifted up in the chorus of a popular holiday carol. Pauletta Sue’s light soprano rang out loud and clear. She sat at the pianoforte, her fingers skipping over the keys, turning her head and flirting with every man who caught her eye. He stood in the corner, watching her. Wanting her. His glance moving up and down her body, taking in her deep green silk dress covered with black velvet trim spread out around her, setting off her ivory-skinned beauty like emeralds surrounding a precious pearl.
The perfect mistress of Rosebriar.
Every man in the room envied him.
The real question on his mind was, was this Pauletta Sue from Tennessee?
Or his lady in gray?
It didn’t take him long to find out. Somehow, when he wasn’t looking, he swore they’d switched places. The two women were playing games with him. The lady in gray tended to the soldiers earlier, then the real Pauletta Sue took her place to entertain the officers.

 
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First Year Anniversary

December 10, 2015 by in category Pink Pad by Tracy Reed tagged as , , , ,

Happy Holidays to everyone. It’s that time of the year when we get a little confused as to how to greet people or be sociable.

The month of December is special to me for a couple of reasons. One it’s the time of year that I celebrate the birth of my Lord and Savior and it’s the anniversary of my novel writing career. I say novel, because the first things I had published where a couple of short shorties. Those were toe dabblers. But my official writing career began with my book, GENERATIONAL CURSE, last December.

In this first year of adding author to my resume, I’ve had a few firsts:
1st full-length book GENERATIONAL CURSE
1st novella THE GOOD GIRL
1st box set FLING NEW ADULT FICTION BOX SET [w/THE GOOD GIRL]
1st novelette THE ALEX CHRONICLES: GIRLFRIENDS & SECRETS
1st book signing at THE LOS ANGELES TIMES FESTIVAL OF BOOKS

In honor of my first anniversary, here’s the first chapter of my first published book.

GENERATIONAL CURSE

Chapter One
Kyla promised herself she would never be like the other women in her family, dating a married man and settling for the pennies he doled out.
  She’d always felt she was worth more. She met Eric at a fundraiser. He smiled, she smiled and after the cocktail hour, they found themselves seated next to each other. During dinner they talked and flirted and once the evening was over, he asked for her number. She declined and while getting ready for bed, she reached into her bag for her phone and noticed that she also had someone else’s phone.
  She called the last number dialed and a vaguely familiar voice said, “I’ve been waiting for your call. So what time do you want to meet for breakfast so I can get my phone?” They both laughed.
They agreed to meet the following morning for breakfast. Two days later, they met again and included an extra slot for “therapy.”
  Making love in the morning seemed so decadent. She didn’t think anything of it until she received her first black envelope a month later.
  Eric said, “I’m tired of hotels. Rent a place and fix it up for us and keep whatever is left.”
  “I’m not a hooker.”
  “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I want to keep seeing you, but my neighbors are nosey.”
  “Oh, you’re married.”
  “No, I’m not. I just like my privacy. I like being with you, but—”
  “I understand.” She dropped her head and quickly began getting dressed. “I don’t think this is–”
  He noticed the change in her behavior and rushed to reassure her. “I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you, but I also don’t want you to think I’m monopolizing your time. You need your space and so do I. When we get together, it should be on neutral, comfortable ground and not some cold hotel room or a place filled with memories of past lovers.”
  He wrapped his arms around her pulling her to him, gently stroking her hair, inhaling her neck and gently placing a kiss on her soft shoulder. She turned around trying to read the expression on his face.    Looking into his eyes, she wondered how many more love nests he had scattered around the city. She pulled his face close to hers and covering his mouth with hers, kissed him passionately. She slipped her hands inside the front of his pants while sliding her tongue inside his mouth, exciting him to the point of arousal.
  She pulled back and whispered, “Once more before we have to go?”
  He couldn’t resist her. The soft seductive tone of her voice and the gentle touch of her hand, made him weak and willing to do anything she asked. Kyla knew if there were anyone else, they would have a hard time competing with her.
  She got her education in how to manipulate a man by eavesdropping on her aunts’ conversations. They were all experts when it came to being with and manipulating married men. She learned how to kiss from her high school boyfriend. And her college boyfriend, her biology professor, schooled her in anatomy and how to physically please a man.
  Before getting involved with Eric, she had dated, but she only had two other semi serious relationships. Neither was fulfilling. The first was Thomas Smith. He was cute, but he lacked the drive to satisfy her physically. When they were together she found herself fantasizing about other men. Intellectually he was a genius, but no one really makes love to a person’s brain. It was the other part of his body that needed more educating and she knew she wasn’t a school teacher.
  Then there was Alister Humphrey. The name alone intrigued her. She had never met a black man with such a stuffy name. In the beginning he seemed like the complete package. Model good looks, intelligence and his skills in bed were unbelievable. The first time they made love, the intensity of his being inside her brought tears to her eyes. Not because it was painful, but because she had never felt such pleasure. Alister knew exactly how to read her body. A skill that was the result of his blindness. What he lacked in vision, he more than compensated for in his other senses. But, he was a man and as they all do, he began making demands and that’s when she called it quits. Mind blowing sex aside, Kyla was gone.
  Her aunts always said, “Don’t allow a man to make demands on you. You make the demands on him. Use what you have and any man can be controlled with the sway of your hips and the wink of your eye. And, showing a little cleavage wouldn’t hurt either.”
  If she were going to marry, it would be to Eric. He was everything she wanted. Handsome, well educated, focused, rich and eager to please in and out of bed. But she also learned from her aunts, the wife always got the leftovers and Kyla didn’t like leftovers or sloppy seconds. When Eric suggested the apartment, at first she thought, he was ashamed of her. But Eric’s response to her kiss and touch convinced her, she was his priority.
  She knew she was in charge. She eased her hand further down his pants pleading, “Baby, please make me sing again before sending me off to start the day.”
  She kissed his neck before dropping the sheet that was caressing her body and walked into the bathroom. He stood still contemplating the repercussions of being late to the office, when he heard the shower running. He looked at his watch and texted his assistant he would be late. He put his phone on the desk, striped, walked into the steam filled bathroom and opened the shower door to a wet and soapy Kyla, smiling.
  “Are you ready to sing?” he asked as he leaned her up against the slippery tiled wall. He pressed himself against her and filled his mouth with every inch of her. He lifted her from behind and rode her like a beautiful long legged mare. The harder he rode, the louder she sang. One last trot, and he sang out too. He rested his head on her chest and she had her answer, “no,” there was no one else, just her. She reached over and turned the hot water off. They both needed to cool down. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t leave me,” he begged.
  She smiled to herself and replied, “Whatever you say baby.”
  He pulled away and she turned the hot water back on and washed him like a newborn baby. Gently stroking every inch of him. He knew there wasn’t another woman like her. No woman ever treated him like this. He stood still and let her soft hands wash him clean.
  On his way to work, he called her. “You are an amazing woman.” She remained silent. “Can I see you tonight?”
  She thought for a moment before replying, “Only if you promise to repeat that shower scene.”
  “Your wish is my command.”
  Now more than three years later and countless showers and secret meetings, she’s still calling the shots.

______________________________

On the heels of celebrating the one year anniversary of my first published, book, I’m happy to announce the next installment of Generational Curse [currently titled “Intentional Curse], is scheduled for summer 2016…hopefully.

It’s been a fun 2015. I’m excited to see what happens in 2016. I pray everyone has a blessed and prosperous 2016 packed with great stories to share.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Tracy

Tracy Reed
www.readtracyreed.com

Fiction for Women Who Love God, Couture and Cute Guys

Available at
Amazon.com
Barnes and Noble
iTunes

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Year Ending Soon!

December 6, 2015 by in category Pets, Romance & Lots of Suspense by Linda O. Johnston tagged as , ,

by Linda O. Johnston
 

Last month, my blog heading was that this year was going fast.  And now it’s a month later–the last month of 2015.  Talk about going fast! 

I’ve been busy, and there’s a lot going on.  I’m writing away, currently working on a Harlequin Romantic Suspense novel, COVERT ALLIANCE, which will be published in August 2016, a sequel to my Identity Division book COVERT ATTRACTION.  I’m also about to republish one of my backlist books, a time travel romance called THE BALLAD OF JACK O’DAIR, on Kindle–and it’s available now for preorder!  Check it out–it’s got a curious heroine who’ll do anything to learn the end of a ballad about a brave hero and winds up going back in time to the Alaskan gold rush, where she meets him and his wolf-dog Taku.  If you’ve known me that long, maybe you’ll recall the print version. 

I’m looking forward to this month’s OCC meeting, as always.  Once again it’ll be a quandary whether to attend PAW or stay for the regular meeting.  The morning session is about writing contracts, and I’ve always loved contracts… even though my law license is currently inactive.
 
So, I hope to see you there this month, too. 
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Happy Thanksgiving!

November 26, 2015 by in category Archives

I’ve been prosthelytizing.  I admit it.  When I hear the words “Happy Holidays” in the days before Thanksgiving–mostly from service providers–I find myself earnestly preaching The Word.  That is My Word.  

“No! You don’t need to be politically correct for this day!  It is one of the special ones where we are all together as humans on American soil.  

It is a secular holiday, without any divisive religious implications. You don’t even have to be an American to be wished a Happy Thanksgiving.  You just need to be in America and you are part of the team.

It is all about being thankful (and eating).  I think we can all get behind that.  The eating part is symbolic of one of the many things we are thankful for.  The fact that the meal is shared with others, often family and friends, is another. 

The classic Norman Rockwell painting we often see around Thanksgiving is just one of four paintings . celebrating the four freedoms articulated in Franklin D Roosevelt’s January 6, 1941 State of the Union speech:

Freedom of Speech
Freedom of Worship
Freedom from Want
Freedom from Fear

Truly much to be thankful for.

Thanks!


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Creating the Perfect Environment for Your Writing by Connie Vines

November 13, 2015 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,

Do you know what you need from your environment in order to write?

If not, it is time to find out.

Our physical surroundings are immensely important to our writing process.
Far more important than most people think.

We cannot work if we are distracted, annoyed, or constantly interrupted.  We need to feel inspired and comfortable in our surroundings in order to be creative.

If your home office is cluttered with papers, laundry, and stacks of research materials, it is not the right place to write.

The mess might distract you and make you miserable, because it sends a signal about the kind of work environment you think you deserve.

It is just as bad if your office is empty. Writers work best in a creative atmosphere.
If inspiration disappears when you sit down to write you must reassess your surroundings.
Sometimes removing the clutter and reorganization of your work area will do the trick.  Other times, you need a more drastic approach.

Create a Place to Thrive.

I need privacy to work on big projects like a novel.  My Pandora app on my iPhone and my BOSE speaker create the perfect blend of music that centers me in my storyline. New Orleans Jazz now, but it was country and western when I was writing my rodeo romance. As a rule, I type or dictate to my computer while writing, but I keep a pen and composition book close by to make notes.

Do You Feel Inspired in Your Writing Place?

If not, what do you need to do to make your workspace inspirational?
Perhaps you are a writer who must have activity all around, all the time– 24/7.  Since my day job is at a middle school, I am unable to relate to such a need.  However, the library café, coffee shop, or park picnic table may be your perfect writing place.

Ditch the Distractions.

Television blasting, cell phone ‘pings’, Facebook alert messages, the must ‘do list’ at the corner of your desk, all must be out of sight.  I must have all other work in progress or notes on future projects in my filing cabinet.  If I have my notes visible, I am excessively tempted to work on this project too.

Make Your Writing Workspace Beautiful.  

Sit on a quality chair, fresh flowers (or display your roses from OCC), candles, a window, favorite mug, favorite pen.  Any item that makes you spend more time in your writing space.  What makes you happy?

Of course, a tailor-built writing space, or even a room dedicated as your office, is not always possible.  Be creative.  Find your personal writing space.

Remember the quickest way to writing success is sitting down and making it happen.

Happy Writing!

Connie Vines

Coming Soon
from BWL

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