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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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Who’s ever seen a Christmas Piano Tree? by Jina Bacarr

December 11, 2014 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

I asked myself that question when I was looking for ideas for a cover for my holiday romance, A Christmas Piano Tree.

You can’t stick a picture of a Christmas tree on a piano…and the story is a romance. Got to have gorgeous hero and pretty heroine on the cover…but where to start?

That’s when I decided to take a cover class from Andris Bear www.andrisbear.com and Lily Smith http://www.coversbylily.com through the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers.

http://heartofcarolina.org

Andris and Lily critiqued and gave suggestions to my cover until I got it right. Thank you, ladies!! I highly recommend their class if you want to do your own covers. Lily and Andris are awesome!

I love www.Dreamstime.com for stock photos, and since I have somewhat of an art background, I enjoy the process of cover design (once upon another life I studied design for the theatre). Here is a Spanish-theme sketch I did for a Vegas-type extravaganza.

Jina Bacarr's photo.
 

I’ve always had a love for design since I was a kid and I drew pictures in my dad’s encyclopedias (remember those?).

Here’s a sketch for a dress design I did at age 11. Somehow it has survived numerous moves around the country and overseas…

What kind of covers do you enjoy for Christmas books?

I totally enjoyed putting the cover together for “A Christmas Piano Tree,” the story of a pretty young war widow who re-discovers the magic of the holiday season with the help of a homeless vet and an old piano. I hope you like it.

Check out my Christmas Piano Tree Pinterest board!

 Cyber Santa is asking for your vote…

“The Christmas Piano Tree” is included in the December Cover Wars on Masqueradecrew.blogspot.com!

Check out all the wonderful covers and vote for your favorites… 

Thanks for listening! 

~Jina

Vote for The Christmas Piano Tree or one of several others: http://buff.ly/1vD4xsW

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Veterans Day with “The Christmas Piano Tree” by Jina Bacarr

November 11, 2014 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Veterans Day is for healing…let’s not forget our wounded warriors who suffer not only the physical pains of war, but the mental as well.
 
PTSD was first talked about during the Civil War by physicians who described it as nostalgia, while others believed it was a disturbance of a soldier’s mental capabilities caused by severe trauma to the brain.

 
After World War II, John Huston directed a documentary called Let There Be Light, about the care of soldiers with mental disturbances suffered during wartime.
 
These are wounds you do not see.
 
But they are very real to the soldier with PTSD.
 
In my holiday romance, “The Christmas Piano Tree,” the hero is a wounded warrior suffering from PTSD.

The gate is the entrance to the Mary Huber School for Girls where my heroine, Kristen Delaney, works…she’s been feeding homeless vets with leftover food as a way of keeping her husband’s memory alive (he was killed in Afghanistan)–this is a very difficult Christmas Eve for her and her little girl Rachel…until this soldier shows up!!

Here’s a short scene where we first meet him. Kristen gets a funny feeling when she sees a tall man walking toward her… 

 
 

      “She pulled her steering wheel hard to the right to avoid colliding with the tall man bundled up in a black field jacket and khaki pants, a duffel bag strapped on his back, his broad shoulders dusted with falling snow.

      “She stuck her head out of the window to give him a piece of her mind and then stopped.

      “Something about him made her stare at him. He had that swagger she knew so well. Military. Seeing him touched a nerve. Another homeless vet. Kristen shook her head, understanding. He was the third one this week looking for a hot meal.

      “Not surprising on Christmas Eve.”

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Who is the handsome soldier? And how is he tied to Kristen’s past?

 
 Sgt. Jared Milano is suffering from PTSD from his last mission in Afghanistan: 

http://amzn.com/B00OY9L8KO

 

“His brain went into freefall and he couldn’t stop it. No matter how hard he tried, how much he squeezed his mind, the memory stayed lost in a thick, suffocating fog swirling around in his head.

Lost.

Dead and forgotten.

Angry, frustrated, he tried to reach out and grab it, but whatever his buddy said to him before he died remained silent and still in his mind.

When would he remember? When?”

 
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“The Christmas Piano Tree” is the story of a pretty young war widow who re-discovers the magic of the holiday season with the help of a homeless vet and an old piano.
 
I’ll never forget the Christmas I spent stationed overseas in a small town in Italy. The hot chocolate and cookies I baked and gave to the soldiers who signed up for my Christmas Eve Midnight Mass tour. Off we went on that wintery night in an old military school bus…
 
We were a motely group of military and Special Services personnel attending the service in a medieval cathedral that was cold and damp, but filled with song and hope for a better future.
 
Many of those men had seen the horrors of combat and suffered from PTSD (what we called DSS–delayed-stress syndrome–back then). Their stories as they told them to me have stayed with me always…
 
Thank you for spending part of your Veterans Day here with me. We thank all those who have served for their courage and bravery in keeping us and our families safe. God bless you.
 
~Jina
 
 
The Christmas Piano Tree is available on Kindle and KindleUnlimited.
 

www.jinabacarr.com
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PS — just wanted to add that my Christmas Novella A Soldier’s Italian Christmas won the Novella category in the I Heart Indie contest!

 

 
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A Soldier’s Italian Christmas Video Debut by Jina Bacarr

December 11, 2013 by in category Archives tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,
UPDATED: A full 11:32 minute excerpt from Chapter ONE of A Soldier’s Italian Christmas!


A Soldier’s Italian Christmas: Excerpt from Chapter One from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

A web debut: I just finished this video trailer for my holiday novella. I’m debuting it here!!

“A Soldier’s Italian Christmas”

O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1

December 1943
Italy

 

He is a U.S Army captain, a battle-weary soldier who has lost his faith.
She is a nun, her life dedicated to God.        
Together they are going to commit an act the civilized world will not tolerate.
They are about to fall in love.    


A Soldier’s Italian Christmas from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

 

Making videos is a labor of love…choosing the photos, the music, editing, cutting, transitions, effects. This one is filled with visuals that I believe bring the story to life in a different way. Giving you a sense of place but it’s the emotion that tells the story…
 
Words or video. You gotta feel it.
 
Writers write to tell a story. At Christmas, that story can make you laugh, sigh, or wish you had that hunky Santa coming down your chimney.
 
My holiday novella takes on a different tone. It’s a sweet romance filled with the spirit of Christmas in a time when soldiers paused to remember the night of the birth of the Christ Child in a time when they wondered if they’d be home for the next Christmas…
 
Captain Mack O’Casey is one such soldier. You’ll meet him in my video and in this excerpt. He first met Sister Angelina dressed in men’s clothes when she was on a mission to steal food from the Nazis. This is the first time he sees her in a nun’s habit:
 
He never spoke about it, how sometimes he didn’t want to keep going. Keep killing. And then they stumbled into this place, giving him the chance to renew his spirit, get back the faith in God he’d lost. He felt whole again, believing there was still good left in the world. That knocked the hell out of him. He’d even whistled a tune this morning he heard in the canteen back in the States about carousels and wishing wells.
Damn, it wasn’t right for a man to feel these things in the middle of a war. It tore at his gut. Men were getting killed or wounded, groveling through mud and booby traps for every foot closer to victory. And him thinking about home and apple blossoms and the smell of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. Rich tomatoes and oregano sifting up to his nose until he couldn’t stand it any longer. His younger brothers fighting over who got the first taste from the smooth wooden spoon.
Mack ached to go home, to sit by the fire and warm his cold feet and have a beer, but that wouldn’t happen until this war was won. Hell, since coming here, he felt like he could win it single-handed. Thanks to Sister Angelina. He felt a bond between them that could only happen in wartime. He wanted to tell how he felt, but when he awoke this morning, Sister Benedetto told him she’d gone to the chapel to pray. He couldn’t leave without seeing her again.
The rustle of heavy skirts alerted him to her presence as a gentle waft of roses tickled his nose. Yellow roses. He sucked in the clean, fresh smell deep into his lungs, praying it would kill the smell of death he’d lived with for so long. A wild anticipation made him sweat and set off feelings he had no business admitting to in a place of worship.
For her.
He uttered a prayer of contrition. He needed forgiveness for what he was thinking. His mind and body scarred and wracked with pain, all that changed when he first saw Sister Angelina that night. Daring, beautiful. An angel with invisible wings. Her presence filled him. Mack felt a stirring in his groin. He prayed he’d be strong enough to resist temptation.
“I assure you, Captain,” he heard her say behind him. His chest expanded, his lips curved at hearing her voice. “There are no Nazis here.”
“Have you checked the rat holes?” he said, turning around. A wild, blinding light hit him in the eyes. My God, who was this saintly creature? He didn’t expect her to, well, look like a nun.
She wore the black habit of her order with the long veil trailing down to her knees, wide white collar, full black sleeves, and skirt down to the floor. A stern white band hugged her forehead, bringing out the beauty of her dark upswept eyes. A rigid tightness locked every bone in his body. The sight of her holy state hit him hard, as if someone had dumped him into a cold river.
He must look like a fool standing here, staring at her.
“They wouldn’t dare enter the house of our Lord without His permission,” she responded in a serious tone. If she noticed his surprise, she gave no indication. “That includes the four-legged ones.”
He grinned. A nun with a sense of humor. He liked that.
Rain pounded on the roof giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. Deal with the insanity that had overtaken him. And, in spite of himself, smile. “You’re right, Sister. No man can compete with the will of God. You taught me that.”
His words made her take a step backward, grab onto the pew. She understood and nodded, though slowly. His heart broke when he saw an amber light in her eyes flicker wildly. Then, as if by sheer determination, the light dimmed.
“You’re a strong man, Captain,” she said, “even if you profess to be a pagan.”
Her words surprised him. Was that what she thought of him? Had he grown so hard that no humanity was left in him?
“You’re the one who is strong, Sister Angelina. This pagan is made of flesh and bone,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “I don’t have your courage.”
He swore her hands trembled before she hid them in the deep pockets of her habit. But it was her face that held his attention. Clean and untouched, her cheeks flamed. She bowed her head, her long eyelashes fluttering. “I have little choice. I must obey His will.”
“Is that the only reason you hid the sergeant and me in the orphanage?” He had to know the answer. Then he could hide his feelings away in the shadows of war and not feel the pain of wanting her.
“No,” she said softly. “My vows prohibit me from saying more.” She stared at him, daring him to cross the line they both knew couldn’t be crossed.
Telling him what he wanted to know, but that nothing could come of it.
 
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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…

Happy Holidays!!
Jina


=====================

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.
www.jinabacarr.com  
www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author
https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr
http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr/

 

Cover Design for A Soldier’s Italian Christmas and A Naughty Christmas Carol by Ramona Lockwood
www.coversbyramona.blogspot.com
http://www.romancenovelcovers.com/
 
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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 Christmas, the 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.

===============

 

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas      

O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1 
 
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.”
 
======================
 
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…


=====================

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.

Happy Veterans Day!
Jina

www.jinabacarr.com  
www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author
https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr
http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr/

 

Cover Design for A Soldier’s Italian Christmas and A Naughty Christmas Carol by Ramona Lockwood
www.coversbyramona.blogspot.com
http://www.romancenovelcovers.com/
 
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