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The Thing About Kid Brothers

April 4, 2017 by in category 25 Days of Romance, Twenty-five Days of Romance tagged as , , ,

HeartBy Julia Nelson

That clock was a liar. It couldn’t be 10 yet, could it? Damn.

Liz Cooper rushed around her apartment collecting everything she should have assembled last night: towels, sunscreen, hat, glasses. She thought she’d have more time this morning. And she would have, if she hadn’t hit the snooze alarm so many times that it shut off for good.

Today she was seeing Kathleen, her best friend since first grade, who had the nerve to marry a great guy who swept her out of Orange County and all the way north to Seattle. While her great guy sweltered at a convention in Atlanta, Kath had taken a bungalow for a week at Huntington Beach. Liz planned to spend all day Saturday with Kath and her three kids. Or what was left of Saturday, after the 30-mile drive to the beach.

Liz glanced around her apartment and quickly confirmed that she was ready to leave. As she slid her half-read novel into the outside pocket of her tote, the phone rang. She grabbed it on the second ring.

“Oh, Liz, you haven’t left yet.” Kath sounded harried. But with three kids under age nine, she always sounded that way.

“Sorry, I’m running late. I’ll be there.”

“No, this is great. My brother called and I need you to pick him up.”
“Pick him up?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you he’s coming to the beach with us today? The kids haven’t seen Uncle Joey in, like, forever.”

“Joey’s coming with us?” She remembered Kathleen’s bratty brother. The thing about kid brothers was that there was no reason to let them live. When Joey wasn’t releasing captured reptiles into Kath’s bedroom while they played, he was invading Barbie and Ken’s wedding with his army of Imperial Storm Troopers.

“Look, if you want to make this just family . . .”

“Don’t be silly. The kids want to see you and they want to see Joey. You haven’t seen him in years! This’ll be fun!” Kath gushed.

Liz doubted she’d find Joey all that fun, but for Kath and the kids’ sake, she agreed to pick him up. She wrote down the directions to his place, packed her gear and took off.

Before she reached Joey’s address, she saw a tall guy in trunks and T-shirt, dark glasses and carrying a gym bag, standing halfway into her lane. Kath must have told him about her car, because he waved her over with a “Hey, Liz!”

This couldn’t be little Joey. How long since she’d seen him? Seven years, at least. The brat had grown over six feet tall, with muscles filling out those scrawny little arms. The perpetually shaggy dark hair was cut somewhere between military short and businessman sleek. She guessed those three years in the Army did him good. But he’s still Kath’s kid brother, and she had a long memory for his disruptive antics.

“Thanks for the lift.”  He tossed the gym bag into the back and folded himself into the passenger seat.

Liz answered noncommittally and headed for the freeway.

They were only 30 miles from the beach, but there was no easy route. The freeway gave way to surface streets, and apparently everyone else was driving to the coast today. She kept the radio turned up just loud enough so that they didn’t have to talk much. But after yet another driver cut in front and forced her to brake quickly, Liz let out a colorful description of what that driver could do to himself.
“Hey, relax, Liz,”  Joey said. “We don’t have a deadline.”

“I”ve been running late all day.”

“As usual.”

“What do you mean?’

Joey laughed. “You were always late. Late to school, late to graduation, late to your own wedding.”

Liz glared at him.

“Oh, I guess that’s something we can’t talk about.” He nonchalantly glanced out the window.

“My wedding? I should have been even later and missed it altogether. Talk about mismatched couples.”

“So it’s over?”

“It’s definitely over. Three years now.”

Joey turned his gaze back to the road. The radio was almost loud enough mask his quick “Good.”

The traffic cleared and Liz hit the gas. The car lurched forward then rattled to a stop as the engine died. She turned the key, and the engine rolled over and over, but didn’t catch.

“Damn.” The honking began a few cars back.

“Problem?”

“I think it’s dead,” Liz muttered.

Joey opened his door and hopped out. The honking intensified. “Let’s get off this road.”

With him pushing and her steering, they rolled the lifeless car out of traffic. It glided to a stop on a side street, right in front of an auto shop that looked the least greasy of several lining the road. Liz popped the hood and looked over the engine compartment. She’d hoped she’d find a loose wire or a big switch that said “flip me,” but no such luck.

Liz backed away from the car and crashed into Joey. She whirled around to apologize and found herself just inches away from the guy. He took off his dark glasses and his eyes were oh-so-green. Green like nothing she’d seen in nature. Green like the bottles that hold the most premium beer available. Green and full of mischief, the good kind. The fun and sexy kind. He smiled and ohmigod! he still has dimples. They look so different on his all-grown-up face. So kissable.

Before she could say or do anything that would embarrass her for life, a mechanic came out from the repair shop to see if they needed help. Liz explained the car’s symptoms, got an estimate and handed over the key. The mechanic directed them to a waiting room filled with mismatched plastic chairs, vending machines and a coffeemaker that smelled like it had been heating the same inch of tar-like brew for hours. Joey headed to the soda machine with a handful of change. Liz plopped into a chair and worked to banish her earlier thoughts. Yeah, Joey’s cute, but he’s Kath’s kid brother, and the thing about kid brothers was that they were put on this earth to annoy older sisters and their friends, no matter how hunky they grew up.

Joey handed her a diet soda and took the chair next to her. He popped the tab on his root beer and kept his gaze on her as he drank down the can in one gulp.

Liz popped open her soda. “Sorry. I should have told you the car’s a piece of crap. My alumni association wants my license-plate frame back.”

Joey just smiled.

What does that mean? Liz wondered. She took a deep breath to keep from babbling, as she knew she would given the chance.

“I’ll put in a word for you. I belong to the same alumni association.”

“Since when?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since I got out of the Army?”

Come to think of it, she did remember Kath saying something about Joey going to their alma mater. “What”s your degree?”

“Liberal arts.”

“Oh, that’s useful.”

He chucked and hook-shot his empty can into the recycling bin. “Actually, I just got accepted at the sheriff’s academy.”

Liz pictured him in a tan uniform and a shiny badge. A very nice image, indeed. She smiled. “Who could resist a man in uniform?”

Joey leaned closer. “I hope you can’t.” And he kissed her.

Liz started to resist, to explain all the reasons why they shouldn’t do this. And there must be a million reasons why they shouldn’t do this. Starting with …uh… Liz ignored all the objections that popped into her head and kissed him back. They could wait.

Joey eased out of the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “Nice.”

“You know,”she said, “I’m old enough to be your …”

“…Older sister. So? You’re not 30 yet, and it’s not like 25 is so young for me. Sounds just about right.

Liz grinned. He was right. The thing about kid brothers is that they grow up.

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How Mercy Street on PBS reminded me why I write romance by Jina Bacarr

February 11, 2017 by in category Jina’s Book Chat tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

It’s been a rough week.

Make that year.

A lot of stuff going on in my life that sometimes makes me crumble in a heap and ask myself why I keep going.

But I do.

Because I like I what I do. Writing. Some days I love it, other days . . . well, you know the drill.

Recently, I’ve taken on a deadline to write a new book for a Kindle Worlds series (there’s nothing more gratifying than when you’re asked to write for a line), but it’s a short deadline and it’s a genre that’s different than what I’ve been doing (vampires as opposed to princesses — more about that as we hit that March deadline).

But I’m also in a box set with a novella I wrote that releases next week. Now, you’re probably wondering what this has to do with the PBS Civil War series, Mercy Street. It’s simple. After a grueling week of staying up as late as 6 a.m. every night to write my novel and make videos (I do it all — from the voiceovers to the production of the videos with music and graphics), I finally got to watch Episode 3 of Mercy Street.

But not until I uploaded video #18 tonight — yes, I made 18 + 2 more videos in the past week to promote the box set (a 60 second video for each author). Yes, 20 videos in all.

I was bleary-eyed, slumped over, sick of listening to myself on the videos, and crazed over trying to make them perfect little gems (they’re not, but I try).

Then I watched Mercy Street.

***Spoiler alert — if you haven’t seen Episode 3 of Mercy Street, you may want to come back when you have.

Now I love Dr. Foster, the hero. He’s a lot like the hero in my Kindle Scout winner, Love Me Forever (a Civil War time travel romance) and Nurse Mary is like my time traveling heroine. Mary is sick — and the new meanie on the show, a Union officer whose name I don’t want to remember, is sending her away from the hospital (and Dr. Foster).

This is where the resident female rival comes into play. You just can’t help but want to kick Nurse Hastings in the petticoats most of the time, but on this episode she’s a true romance heroine. We find out she lost her soldier love in another war and she has a change of heart about messing up the lives of our doctor and nurse. She sends Dr. Foster back to the hospital hotel in time for him to go to the docks to see Nurse Mary.

Here’s the moment that made my week:

When Dr. Foster jumps onto the steamboat taking our Mary away, he claims her as his patient and comforts her. When he takes her hand and their eyes meet, I wanted to cry. Then he gives her a book. Ulysses. As they quote from the Tennyson tome about not giving up, you know they love each other. He kisses her on the forehead and their hands try to hold onto to each other, but they’re forced to break away. But in spite of the war and the mean old Union major, we know somehow these two will be together again.

Made me proud to write romance.

Because love endures. In spite of everything.

And ain’t that grand.

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Thanks for listening! And in case you’re wondering about all those videos I made, here’s the promo for our Facebook Party next Wednesday, Feb 15th 7:30-11 p.m. (CLICK here to see the vids)


Happily Ever Alpha Facebook Party February 15, 2017 from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

See you next time!

Jina

PS — I’m worried about Nurse Mary. She may be sicker than we thought. Tune in next week to find out. I know I’ll be watching . . .

PPS — if you’re curious about the Kindle Scout program:

***You can read my posts about my experience with the Kindle Scout program by clicking on Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5

blog: www.jinabacarr.wordpress.com

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My blue parasol, old hoop skirt and Civil War letters by Jina Bacarr

January 11, 2017 by in category Reading, Writing tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

 

I have to ask a favor this month . . .

This is going to be a short post. If any of you heard my Christmas promotion video with Joan Reeves (who is the most organized promoter, a fabulous author, and nicest lady), you’ll remember I had a bad cold.

And it put me behind with my writing.

So . . . as I insanely go down the rabbit hole this month to finish my Kindle Worlds novella, Royal Kiss, I’m going to post just a picture from my reading of LOVE ME FOREVER at Lady Jane’s OC Salon at the Ripped Bodice Bookstore last Sunday.

Then as soon as possible, I’ll come back to this post and give you the full scoop on my reading!

Thank you, and yes, my cold is better.

Hugs,
Jina

www.jinabacarr.wordpress.com

www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author

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Civil War Letters: I’ll be reading letters from Love Me Forever at Lady Jane’s OC Salon by Jina Bacarr

December 11, 2016 by in category Jina’s Book Chat tagged as , , , , , , , , , , ,

When was the last time you wrote a letter?

No, not email!
Or text.
Or a bunch of acronyms that no one can figure out without a dictionary.
I mean, put pen to paper and wrote out the words, one by one.
Hmm! I didn’t hear anything. You’re not alone. Unfortunately, the practice of letter writing is a lost art, but there’s something about a letter no email can take replace.
The crisp, crinkly paper.
The lingering scent of the writer’s perfume.
The personal style of every curved letter, dot and period, and question mark. The hidden message in their writing style that only you can see.
Especially during wartime.
Those letters are precious, the last letter from a soldier to his sweetheart is the epitome of love eternal, which is why I’ll be reading letters from LOVE ME FOREVER exchanged between my heroine and her Union Army major at Lady Jane’s Salon on Sunday, January 8, 2017 at the Ripped Bodice Bookstore in Culver City, California. I’ll be joined by other authors and the program starts at 4 p.m.
I’m grabbing my parasol and dancing around in my hoopskirt, getting ready to read from the letters of my time-traveling heroine and the handsome major she’s fallen in love with.
But can never have!
Best,
Jina

Website: www.jinabacarr.com
Blog: www.jinabacarr.wordpress.com

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Am I crazy…or just a writer? by Jina Bacarr

November 11, 2016 by in category Jina’s Book Chat tagged as , , , , , , ,

I’m exhausted.

I finished a nearly 70,000 new Royals of Monterra novel, ROYAL BRIDE, edited it, formatted it, did the cover, and made three videos.

All in the past week.

(No, I didn’t write the novel in a week…but I was editing up to the last second).

Which makes me wonder, why do we do it?

Are we crazy, insane, both?

Yes, we’re writers.

It’s how we work. Think. Create.

Even more wild, the morning after I uploaded the manuscript for Royal Bride, I woke up with the next story zipping through my brain like a live current of electricity.

I wrote it all down and put it away.

Why?

Because the brain like the body needs rest. I love the idea I have for the next novel, but beyond that initial spurt of inspiration, my brain is….well, fried.

So this month, I’m on vacay, holiday, on the road…whatever it takes to, as the saying goes, to let the wells fill up again.

Somtimes you just gotta…

~Jina

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Here’s my new Royals of Monterra novel: ROYAL BRIDE

Royal Bride: “I’m not your ordinary Cinderella…” from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

She’s a Cinderella with a past she can’t forget.
He’s a charming prince with his own dark secret.
They fall in love, but what if the glass slipper doesn’t fit?

At thirty-six, Zoey St. John may not be your ordinary Cinderella, but when Prince Maximiliano Risconti di Montevecchio dances with her at a royal ball in Monterra, taking a chance on love is so much better than being alone.

She’s at a crossroads in her life and being the heroine in a good, old-fashioned fairy tale is just what she needs. With his dashing good looks and brooding dark eyes, the Alpha Royal makes her feel alive again after living alone for years with a tragic secret from her past.

Prince Max is a man born to duty and thrives on routine since that’s how everything has been done
since his royal title was granted centuries ago. He’s devoted to his family, he just doesn’t understand them until the pretty signorina makes him confront the truth about himself and question why he can’t stop thinking about her.

He’s drawn to her even if he won’t admithttp://wp.me/p2DHSo-N1 it and finds out he can’t let her go. The only problem is, the prince has no idea he needs a glass slipper to win her.

When an unexpected turn of events sends the prince’s royal household into chaos and threatens to destroy his family, Zoey takes on the prince and his old-fashioned methods to save them. She pursues her passion for helping others, even if it means the prince may break her heart in the process.

But when her painful past is revealed and turns this fairy tale upside down, can her love for the prince triumph and turn this story into a happily ever after?

PS  **************

The Grinch is early!

 
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