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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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***CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!

Love Me Forever is on sale for the month of December for 99 cents!


Women Soldiers in the Civil War from “Love Me Forever” from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

 

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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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Website: www.jinabacarr.com
Blog: www.jinabacarr.wordpress.com
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Sister against Sister in the Civil War: Love Me Forever by Jina Bacarr

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

Love Me Forever is on Kindle Scout

The Civil War ended this week 150 years ago…

We hear so much about how the Civil War was a conflict about brother against brother.

What about the women of the North and South?

Sister against sister?

In “LOVE ME FOREVER,” my story on Kindle Scout, two women with very different beliefs learn to accept each other for who they are.

They’re not only separated by what they believe in, but by more than 150 years when my heroine travels back to 1862.

Here is an excerpt when my heroine, Liberty Jordan, a re-enactor from today disguised as a Confederate officer, meets up with Pauletta Sue Buckingham when Liberty escapes from the clutches of a dastardly sergeant in a Union prison camp. Pauletta Sue sees her running across the field and races after her in her buggy and carriage. Believing her to be a young Southern man, she offers her refuge:

“You must be brave, sir. The cause needs you,” the woman whispered with urgency, startling Liberty.

So that’s why she helped her. She was a Confederate sympathizer. Here? In a Union camp?

Would they both be shot?

“Hurry, get in,” she ordered. “The bluecoats are coming.”

Holding onto the side of the carriage, Liberty lifted herself up when suddenly she felt her feet give way from underneath her. Damn, she hadn’t counted on the slippery step glistening with dew. It caught her unaware and threw her off balance. She lost her footing on the soggy, wet earth, staggered, then with a loud plop, landed on the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

Her officer’s wide brim hat flying off her head.

Liberty heard the woman gasp when her long reddish-blond hair tumbled down her back like a cascade of corn silk popping up out of its stalk.

“You’re a woman,” the Southerner cried out, her hand going to her mouth.

“Haven’t you ever seen a girl in pants before?” Liberty said, a weak smile curling over her lips. She was surprised the woman didn’t faint.

“Dear Lord, the soldiers mustn’t find out you’re a female,” she said, taking charge. “No telling what they’d do, seeing they have the manners of a country hog.” Holding up her skirts, she climbed out of the carriage to retrieve Liberty’s brim hat.

“Then you won’t give me away?” Liberty asked, surprised. The Southern belle was no pushover.

“You fool girl. I admire what you’re doing, but the Yankees will never understand what we women will do for the cause. Even if we suffer from a broken heart, we’ll never give up,” she said with an emotion so deep it surprised Liberty. She handed her hat back to her. “Run! I’ll hold them off. You can take shelter in the old mill down the road till morning. There’s a secret hiding place behind the pantry.”

How did she know that?

Liberty had no time to ponder the belle and her cause. Instead, she pulled the soggy hat back onto her head and muttered her thanks. She lifted her chin, the sun hitting her cheeks with its fading rays and revealing her face. Before she could pull down the brim of her hat, the woman grabbed her hand.

“Wait,” the dark-haired beauty muttered with surprise. Or was it shock? “Who are you, Missy?”’

“Nobody, ma’am—” Liberty began, her breath catching in her chest when she saw blue-uniformed soldiers on horseback racing toward them, kicking up dust. She had to get out of here, now.

“I demand to know who you are, where you’re from.” The Confederate woman pulled the veil off her face framed by dark hair. “And why you look like me.”

Yes, that’s Pauletta Sue on the left and Liberty on the right in the graphic at the top of the page. The two women are twins except for their hair color. Not only are they on opposite sides, but they both vie for the same man…course, I can’t tell what happens…but sparks fly and it isn’t just on the battlefield…

LOVE ME FOREVER is on Kindle Scout — you can read the first 5,000 words HERE. You’ll meet both my heroines and both my heroes in the excerpt. If you nominate my story and it’s published by Kindle Scout, then you’ll receive a free copy! It’s a saga of love and romance and war. Believe me, I walked every road, fought every battle with my characters, even walked around in a hoop skirt to “get it right.”

This is a book of the heart…any questions? Please ask!!

Thank you for stopping by…………..

If anyone feels like sharing a vote…I’ll be forever grateful! LOVE ME FOREVER

~Jina

PS — As I post tonight LOVE ME FOREVER is Hot & Trending!

PPS — COMING next month: a full account of my experience with Kindle Scout.

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Women in the Civil War: North and South by Jina Bacarr

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

My favorite things are anything vintage.

Stuffed away in my closet I have a blue parasol trimmed with white lace, a pair of old lace-up, pointy boots.

And a hoop skirt.

As flighty and unpredictable as any belle from the Civil War.

But the reality of the role of women during the War Between the States is more than flirty belles twirling a pretty parasol. Women worked as nurses, volunteered as soldiers, risked their lives as spies. They were The Women of the Civil War: North and South.

This is the 150th Anniversary of the end of the Civil War. I’ve always loved this era since I first saw Scarlett sitting on the front porch at Tara with the Tarleton Twins and pooh-poohing the idea of war coming. So I’ve just finished my own Civil War novel–a time travel…more about that coming up. I’ll update as things progress.

One thing the women of the North and South had in common was their love for the men fighting. They became nurses, took wounded into their homes, sewed blankets and uniforms, baked breads and jellies, and fought beside them. They did everything they could to help their cause.

Can you imagine living in a time when wearing a corset day and night was required? Women found themselves not only hampered by stays, but petticoats and those hoop skirts.  I got my hoop skirt from the costume department in a theater where I worked years ago…they were throwing it away!! No, I couldn’t have that. I was thrilled to take it off their hands. Since then, I’ve worn it under a Civil War era gown to commemorative events, book signings, and costume parties.

When I was writing my CW time travel, I put it on again. Just to get the feel of what it was like.

Floating…is how I would describe it.

It’s so important to walk the walk, talk the talk of the time. I’m fascinated with the women who fought as soldiers. Imagine trying to keep your identity secret among a bunch of rowdy troops. Not easy. According to reports, many women signed up to get a regular paycheck. How about being a nurse? You had to be over thirty and plain.

And what about being a spy? Sounds glamorous…but dangerous. Imagine hiding a letter written in cipher in your pantaloons.

Thanks for stopping by…and as I mentioned, more about my Civil War time travel when I have news!

Best,
Jina

http://jinabacarr.com
@JinaBacarr

UPDATED:

I’m very excited to announce that my Civil War Time Travel “LOVE ME FOREVER” is up on Kindle Scout website for a month long campaign beginning Sunday, March 29, 2015.

For more info on the Kindle Scout Program CLICK HERE. This is where you, the reader, can choose which books are published. A super idea and fun for both readers and writers.

 LOVE ME FOREVER on Kindle Scout — you can read the first 5,000 words HERE. You’ll meet both my heroines and both my heroes in the excerpt. If you nominate my story and it’s published by Kindle Scout, then you’ll receive a free copy! It’s a saga of love and romance and war of more than 500 pages. Believe me, I walked every road, fought every battle with my characters, even walked around in a hoop skirt to “get it right.” This is a book of the heart…any questions? Please ask!!

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The Case of the Missing Blue Parasol by Jina Bacarr

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

I can’t find my blue parasol.

White lace ruffle, long white handle.

I’ve looked high and low, in closets, in the garage behind old lawn tools, everywhere.

Oh, fiddle de dee, as Scarlett would say. This charming piece of Southern femininity is an important symbol to me as I work on my Civil War romance time travel, “The Bride Wore Gray.” It’s a prop I’ve had for years when I worked in the theatre. A symbol of the attitudes and mores of ladies in a time gone by.

Can you imagine maneuvering your parasol over your shoulder while trying to text on your smart phone?

Not a pretty sight.

But don’t the dismiss the uses of a parasol too easily. These ladies knew what they were doing. A parasol can be used for:

Flirting.

Protecting your skin from the sun.

Whacking a gent over the head if he makes an unwelcome advance.

A quick cover in a rain emergency.

And certainly, a parasol is at its best if you’re Mary Poppins.

No, that was an umbrella, but you get the idea. But I believe a parasol has the same magic as Mary Poppins’ brolly when you pop it open and sling it over your shoulder in a sexy manner. It gives that provocative Southern charm to any woman. And makes flirting more fun.

That’s why I need my blue parasol. When I’m writing the character of Pauletta Sue Buckingham, the Southern spy in “The Bride Wore Gray,” it evokes that era and the slow, easy living of the time, as well as the seductive nature of her character.

Last time, I posted the beginning of the Prologue for “The Bride Wore Gray” with Pauletta Sue trying to out ride the Yankees hot on her tail. She remembers her first night with her beloved, Captain Colton Trent:

Here is the next installment of “The Bride Wore Gray:”

A lone bird creased the early morning sky with its silent wings, soaring upward and out of sight. She [Pauletta Sue] watched it disappear into the heavens. Like a soul in flight.

His soul.

A humid breeze kissed the back of her neck as she breathed in the dawn so deeply her lungs hurt. Tears welled in her eyes. Was it only a fortnight ago she had trembled at his touch?

Holding her so close to him, the heat of their bodies stripped away the heavy cottons, whalebone and silk ribbons of her garments separating them, the hardness of his chest crushing her soft breasts.

Two weeks? Or a lifetime?

“I cannot send you on your mission without telling you how much I love you, my darling,” she’d whispered in his ear, leading his hand to her breast. Daring, unladylike, but Pauletta Sue was beyond acting like a lady.

Brazen as a cheeky farmer’s daughter, she’d slipped past the sentries down to the river, where the Confederate troops were camped, defying all authority to meet him. They’d planned to be married next spring when the roses bloomed again and the fields were thick with plump cotton. The war would be over by then, everyone said, but Pauletta Sue couldn’t wait. They were married in a secret ceremony by the magistrate, the paper not yet filed. They’d had no time for a wedding night.

Then she started thinking. What if something happened to her beloved? No, Pauletta Sue swore. She couldn’t bear to live. Something told her to come to him now.

Her hair blowing free as a restless wind, she didn’t care what anyone thought.

Only him.

“You crazy female,” he‘d said. “You’re as soft as a magnolia petal, Pauletta Sue, but as strong as an oak tree planted in Southern soil. Let me see your beautiful face.”

She lifted her wide‑brimmed straw bonnet with a big, black sash tied under her chin and smiled. She was proud of her small waist set off by a black cummerbund, her full skirts floating up around her in a sheer, filmy flower‑dotted pattern, her breasts outlined by her tight bodice. She winced as he squeezed her soft, womanly flesh, then swallowed hard when she heard him moan.

“Colton, I had to see you…touch you…love you.” She bit down on her lower lip, trying to make him understand what she wanted from him, needed, if she was going to get through this war.

“You must go, my love,” he said, the blazing look in his eyes telling her that he understood. “Before I do something to harm your reputation.”

“You do me more harm, sir, by leaving me unfulfilled,” she whispered, this time with an urgency he couldn’t deny. “We are married, in case it slipped your mind.”

He grinned. “I must have been a fool not to take you to my bed that night.”

“How could you when you were ordered back to your regiment before you even kissed your bride?”

“My bride…I want to love you as you should be loved, but not here in a dirt field with the smell of death still settling upon the ground.”

“It’s hallowed ground, my love,” she whispered. “We have but a few hours to live a lifetime.”

“Even a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to love you, my darling.” He pulled up her skirt. The rounded hoops underneath bounced up around her, the fine French lace of her underskirts flitting through his eager fingers like frightened butterflies.

She felt no embarrassment. No silly school girl blush tinted her cheeks as she watched him pull his dirty muslin shirt up over his head, the broadness of his shoulders ripping apart the hastily-sewn seams.
She had given herself to no other.

Why must she wait for the war to be over to be with the man she loved? 
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I’ll keep looking for my blue parasol.

After all, in Scarlett’s words, tomorrow is another day.

Best,
Jina

Jina’s website


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