Lisa Chalmers's Blog, page 6

Winter Wonder Man Blog Hop

Welcome to my post for the WINTER WONDER MAN BLOG HOP. For my stop on the tour, I’m giving away an ebook copy of IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES to one lucky winner and an e-Arc of my upcoming paranormal romance DARK INTENT.

 

 

 

“What makes a hero in movies and books wonderful to the point your toes curl?”

For some reason lately I’ve been in an action movie sort of mood, so I’ll list some of my favorite action heroes and their attributes.

At the top of the list, John McClane in the DIE HARD series. Cocky, self assured, a creative thinker and willing to sacrifice himself to save his loved ones. What could be better? And who can forget the scene in the first movie where he’s walking across broken glass in his bare feet?

 

Next up, one of my all time favorites, Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel). I loved how in Fast & The Furious 6 Dominic is willing to sacrifice himself to save his missing ex-girlfriend, Lettie on more than one occasion. The one scene that sticks out in my mind is when he challenges the amnesiac Lettie to a race, and when it’s done, they end up alone at a deserted area. After she leaves, he finds himself face to face with the villain, and a laser beam scope aimed at his heart. One of my favorite stand-off scenes of the series.

 

Third:

All right, not a movie, but a television show so good it could be one (although then we wouldn’t get to see Reese as often so there is that). John Reese (

 

So my question for you is who is your ideal action hero if you have one and why?

 

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First Interview of 2014

In case you missed it, my first interview of 2014 is up on Andrea R Cooper’s blog. Come see who I decided to cast for Avery, Josh & Gabriel.  http://andrearcooperauthorblog.com/2014/01/08/lisa-chalmers-author-interview/

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Love Lust & Chocolate Kisses Event

If you’re free Sunday afternoon for a few hours, check out the Love, Lust & Chocolate Kisses Event on facebook tomorrow. I’m one of the 24 authors participating.

Love Lust and Lipstick Kisses Multi-author Event

Love, Lust and Lipstick Stains are pleased to announce we’re hosting an amazing multi-author Facebook event. On the 22nd December from 1pm-5pm EST 24 authors will joining together to spread some Christmas cheer and give away some amazing prizes, including a grand prize of a $50 gift card plus tons of swag, ebooks, paperbacks and more.

So if you would like a break from the stresses of Christmas and fancy the chance to play games and chat with some of the hottest authors around, stop on by on Facebook.

Join the event HERE.
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12 days of Christmas: Gemma Juliana

A Holiday Anthology  

Shooting Star Holiday Express by Gemma Juliana

Thanks, Lis, for inviting me to visit today. I’m thrilled to be one of the fifteen authors in the Exquisite Quills A Holiday Anthology Volume I along with some of your other guests. This anthology is *sweet* and suitable for all ages. Best of all, it’s FREE, so everyone can go to www.smashwords.com and download their copy.

My story is about a mom and daughter who take the train from Seattle to San Francisco at Christmas time, and enjoy a very fine surprise. The story was inspired by a train trip I made last summer. I fell in love with the magic of train travel and it seemed like a perfect place for a romance story.

 

Here is a small excerpt from Shooting Star Holiday Express:

 

This winter journey from Seattle to San Francisco had consumed almost every last dime. She’d questioned the prudence of buying train tickets after receiving a pink slip three weeks ago. Shaken by despair, each dead-end interview left her feeling like her feet were set it in cement.

She should have told Julie they couldn’t afford their Christmas trip to Aunt Ruth in San Francisco… No, she wouldn’t spoil her daughter’s excitement. The seven year old knew nothing of the perilous perch upon which their lives currently rested. Ever since Jack was killed by a drunken wrong-way-driver two years earlier, Julie’s emotional wellbeing was as fragile as a snowflake. Bella simply had to find a way to fulfill her promise.

“Welcome aboard our magical time-traveling train.” The navy-clad conductor smiled with a sparkle in his eyes as he checked their tickets. “You can leave your bags down here and go upstairs to seats 66 A and B.”

“Mama, he looks just like the conductor in that Christmas train movie.” Julie beamed as she slid her roll-on bag into the baggage compartment.

 

 

My other Christmas story is Christmas Spirits and is an adult novella with a few sizzling scenes. It takes place in Ireland at the magical Winterthorne Castle. This is a story of undying love that transcends time, and a ghost who hopes her husband will follow her to the Otherworld when she must leave him for the last time.

 

GEMMA JULIANA is a multi-published author who lives in an enchanted cottage in north Texas with her handsome hero, teen son and a comical dog. She loves making new friends and hearing from readers. Exotic coffee and chocolate fuel her creativity.

Buy Gemma’s books on Amazon.

 

Visit Gemma’s website http://www.gemmajuliana.com to email her, see her stories, buy books on all platforms, check for blog hops, and other fun stuff!

Follow @Gemma_Juliana on Twitter: https://twitter.com/gemma_juliana

 

Connect with Gemma

GemmaJuliana.com | Twitter | facebook

 

Buy Gemma’s Books on…

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Apple

SmashWords

 

 

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12 Days of Christmas: Linda McLaughlin

On our tenth day of the 12 Days of Christmas, please welcome author Linda McLaughlin to the blog today to talk about Yule.

First I want to thank Lisa Chalmers for inviting me to post on her blog today. I hope you’ve been enjoying her 12 Days of Christmas blogs as much as I have.

 

Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice, also known as Yule. Astrologically speaking, it’s the day when the sun is at its lowest altitude above the horizon. It also signifies the shortest day and longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. We understand now that this is caused by the position of the earth relative to the sun, but primitive man knew only that the days grew shorter until the Winter Solstice, then the trend reversed. So it has long been a day of celebration, the last festival before the coldest part of winter.

 

In Rome, this holiday was called Saturnalia, in honor of Saturn, father of the gods. (Not coincidentally, the Winter Solstice is when the sun enters the zodiacal sign Capricorn, which is ruled by the planet Saturn.)

 

Yule was celebrated by the Norse and Celts before the Christianization of Europe. Many of our northern European traditions are derived from Yule, symbolized by the rebirth of the Sun on the longest night of the year. Bonfires were lit and toasts drunk. Wassail, holly, mistletoe and the Yule log are familiar themes. Romans feasted and gave gifts during Saturnalia. Traditional carols feature Yule symbols, as in The Holly and the Ivy, Deck the Halls, and Here We Come A-Wassailing.

 

Here are some links with more information on Yule:

 

http://wicca.com/celtic/akasha/yule.htm

http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/december-solstice-customs.html

http://paganwiccan.about.com/od/yulethelongestnight/p/Mistletoe_Myths.htm

 

The Roman Catholic Church set Christmas a little later than Yule to distinguish it from the pagan festivals, but slowly co-opted the older holiday and incorporated many of the traditions. Christmas remained a lavish and joyous celebration throughout the Middle Ages, but the Protestant Reformation brought some changes. The more severe sects, like the English Puritans, banned Christmas altogether because of its pagan and Catholic history. Alina K. Field talked about that in her post on Dec. 10: http://lisa-chalmers.com/12-days-of-christmas-alina-field/. As she explains, Christmas in the Regency era wasn’t as lavish as we might think. That required Victorian excess.

 

The publication of Charles Dickens’s wildly popular A Christmas Carol in 1843 revived the holiday in a big way. At about the same time, Queen Victoria’s husband, Prince Albert, introduced the German custom of the Christmas tree to England, and the traditional Christmas we all expect began to be realized.

 

This year, I wrote my first ever holiday story for an anthology.

 

The Best Present

by Linda McLaughlin

           

Ten-year-old Allison Harcourt’s life has been turned upside down since her father lost his job and her beloved grandmother died. She’s not looking forward to Christmas, especially since she can’t figure out how to finish the scarf she’s making for her mother. An unexpected stop in Sweetwater Springs brings her and her parents to the boarding house of the widow Murphy. Sometimes sweet things can be found in the most unexpected places.

 

The Best Present is part of  Sweetwater Springs Christmas: A Montana Sky Short Story Anthology by Debra Holland and Friends: E. Ayers, Linda Carroll-Bradd, MJ Fredrick, Paty Jager, Jill Marie Landis, Trish Milburn, Linda McLaughlin, Bev Pettersen, Tori Scott, Cynthia Woolf

 

Come celebrate the holidays in 1895 Sweetwater Springs, Montana, as ten Western Romance authors join New York Times Bestselling author DEBRA HOLLAND in telling SHORT STORIES of love and laughter, heartbreak and healing, and most of all, Christmas joy.

 

Buy link: http://amzn.com/B00G06W3SA

 

Linda McLaughlin grew up with a love of history fostered by her paternal grandmother and an incurable case of wanderlust inherited from her father. She has traveled extensively within the United States and has visited Mexico, Canada, & Australia. A lifelong dream came true with a trip to England where she was able to combine sightseeing and theater with research for her novels. A native of Pittsburgh, she now lives in Southern California with her husband.

 

Her first book was Worth The Risk by Lyn O’Farrell. Now Linda writes historical and Regency romance. She loves transporting her readers into the past where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.

 

She also writes steamy to erotic romance under the name Lyndi Lamont.

 

Connect with Linda online:

Website: http://www.lindamclaughlin.com

Blogs: Flights of Fancy http://flightsafancy.blogspot.com

Lyndi’s Love Notes: http://www.lyndilamont.com/blog

 

Facebook:

Linda McLaughlin http://www.facebook.com/LindaMcLaughlinAuthor

Lyndi Lamont http://www.facebook.com/LyndiLamont

 

Google+

https://google.com/+LindaMcLaughlin

 

Twitter: @LyndiLamont

https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

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12 Days of Christmas: Kaye Spencer

On the ninth day of Christmas, Kaye Spencer stops by the blog to share an excerpt of her story in the Exquisite Quills Holiday Anthology.

 

Holiday Anthology – Kaye Spencer’s Depression Era story #Equills #BYNR

 

Exquisite Quills, an international author group, is offering a winter holiday-themed anthology of 15 short stories by 15 different authors. This anthology is not only a compilation of great curl-up-with-cocoa-and-read stories, it is a FREE download on Smashwords. The stories, although geared for adult interests, are ‘family friendly’.

 

My contribution is GIFTS TO TREASURE. It takes place during the height of the American Great Depression. The hero is one of countless men hopping freight trains for a free ride from somewhere, going nowhere. With a road stake of fifty-nine dollars and thirty-one cents, he feels rich compared to the tramps and hobos he’s fallen in with.

 

Two Hundred Word Tiny Teaser:

 

He’d make it on his own and never go back home. They could spend the rest of their lives wondering if he was alive or dead. After all, they didn’t want him. No one did.

 

Well, that door swings both ways.

 

Fists clenched against the constant, gnawing loneliness, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Try as he would, he couldn’t keep his heart from waging war with his pride to go home. Leave it be. Think about what the future may bring, not about crawling back for their mercy.

 

He had money enough for room and board as long as he found work within a couple of weeks. A couple of months ago, he’d chanced upon a discarded rucksack with a moth-eaten wool blanket stuffed inside. Now he could carry more necessities than he’d been able to in his bindle.

 

He didn’t like it, but he saw the irony of being the only son of one of the wealthiest men in the world who was thankful he owned a pocket knife with sharp blades and a menagerie of odds and ends that made his vagabond life a little less unpleasant.

 

Not much to show for all his years living the high life.

 

***

 

GIFTS TO TREASURE is a heart-tugging, feel-good read rich with possibilities for a longer story, which I plan to write in the coming year.

 

Thanks, Lisa, for inviting me over today.

 

A Holiday Anthology – Vol. 1 – Exquisite Quills is available for FREE download at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/374815

 

Watch the book video on YouTube: http://youtu.be/yTph6-UV7mg

 

Until next time,

 

Kaye

 

Fall in love…faster, harder, deeper with Kaye Spencer romances

www.kayespencer.com

 

Twitter – @kayespencer

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12 Days of Christmas: Christine Feldman

Welcome author Christine Feldman for today’s 12 Days of Christmas post.

 

What inspired this story?

I’ve always enjoyed unlikely romantic pairings, and I thought a woman and the guy who used to pick on her in grade school certainly fit the bill!  Naturally he’s changed since then, but our heroine doesn’t know that when he crosses her path years later…  This storyline also gave me the chance to throw in a mistaken identity, some humor, and a little redemption—which isn’t a bad thing at Christmastime.

Do you have a favorite scene or character from the book?

I like the scene in which Trish intends to tell Ian off the way she wanted to as a kid and then things take a very different turn.  There’s humor but also an unexpected twist that makes the scene a little more poignant.

How did it compare to writing your other books?

My previous books were longer; this was the first time I’d done a novella.  I knew it would be challenging to have the same kind of character depth in a shorter work as you might find in a full-length novel, but I’ve gotten a wonderful response from reviewers, so I think it turned out pretty well. 

Which character is most like you or unlike you?

I identify the most with Trish because she can certainly have her awkward moments, and I feel like I have a fair amount of those myself.

Any chance of a sequel or a spin-off with one of the other characters?

Actually, the second novella in the series came out December 1st, and it features Trish’s friend Nadia.  The third novella should be out in January, and it features a character we meet in the second novella.  I enjoyed the camaraderie in these stories so much that I’m glad I didn’t limit myself to just one.  J

Do you have any writing rituals?

I eat lots of ice cream and chocolate when I’m writing.  Does that count?

What would your dream writing space look like?

How about a vine-covered pergola on a rural Italian hillside that overlooks a vineyard?  That would work nicely.  I’m not picky, though.  A secluded beach in Hawaii or private mountain lodge would work just as well.  J

What would readers be surprised to know about you?

I like to bellydance.  But only in private.  (I said I liked to bellydance; I didn’t say I was good at it…)

*What’s next for you

I’m wrapping up the last novella in this series, and then I plan to turn one of my screenplays into a novel before tackling an idea I have for another romance.  So many ideas, so little time…

 

Thanks for having me on your site today!

 

Book Description

 

Novella 1:  Pastels and Jingle Bells

Trish Ackerly never expected to cross paths with Ian Rafferty again, but when she spots the former bully of her childhood years through her bakery window, she thinks she may just have been given the best Christmas gift ever:  the opportunity to finally give Ian the comeuppance he deserves.

 

But clearly she does not have a knack for this whole revenge thing, because before she can make good on her plans, Trish gets inadvertently drawn into Ian’s life in an unexpected way that lets her see just how different the man is from the boy he used to be.  In fact, much to her astonishment, she actually starts to like the guy.

 

A lot.

 

Trouble is, Ian doesn’t know who she really is, and explaining it to him is going to be a little difficult now—which is bad news, because Trish is starting to realize that all she really wants for Christmas this year…is Ian.

 

Excerpt

 

Pastels and Jingle Bells:  Heavenly Bites Novella #1

It was probably inviting the worst kind of karma to be contemplating murder during the holiday season of all times, but that didn’t phase Trish Ackerly in the slightest as she stared through her bakery’s storefront window in shock.

It was him.  Ian Rafferty, bane of her junior high school existence.  She’d know that face anywhere, despite the changes in it.  Sure, he was a couple of feet taller now and certainly broader shouldered, but as he glanced away from the winter scene she had painted on the window only yesterday and at a passing car that whizzed by much too fast on the busy city street, the profile he presented to her confirmed it.  Yes, it was him.  That same nose, the odd little scar above his eye, the familiar way he quirked his lips…

Her eyes narrowed.  Ian Rafferty.  That miserable, mean-spirited little—

Then he turned his face back to the window, and Trish gasped and dropped to the floor before he could spot her staring at him.

“What on earth are you doing?” came Nadia’s voice from behind the counter.

Trish huddled behind a tall metal trash can and glanced up through her dark bangs at her startled friend and business partner only to remember belatedly that they had company in the shop, namely wizened little Mrs. Beasley, whose startled eyes blinked at her from behind enormous tortoise-shell spectacles.

Well, there was little help for it now.  “That guy,” Trish hissed, jerking one thumb in the direction of the window.  “I know him!”

Both Nadia and Mrs. Beasley peered intently through the glass.  “Mmm,” said Nadia appreciatively a moment later.  “Lucky you, girlfriend.”

“No, not lucky me!  That guy made my life a living hell in junior high.  He’s a jerk, he’s a bully—“

“He’s coming in here, dear,” Mrs. Beasley interrupted her, with obvious interest in her voice.

With a squeak of alarm, Trish shuffled hastily behind the counter on her hands and knees and hunched into as small and inconspicuous a ball as she could.

Nadia blinked.  “Trish, are you out of your—“

“Sh!”

“Oh, you did not just shush me—“

“SHH!” Trish insisted again, knowing full well that she’d pay for it later, and then she pulled her head down into her shoulders as much as her anatomy would allow.

The bell on the door jangled cheerfully then, and a gust of cold air heralded Ian Rafferty’s arrival.

“Hi, there,” Nadia greeted him brightly, surreptitiously giving Trish’s foot a little dig with one of her own.  “Welcome to Heavenly Bites.  What can I get for you?”

“Cup of coffee would be great for starters,” came a voice that was deep but soft, and far less reptilian than Trish expected.  She cocked her head slightly to better catch his words and heard the unmistakable sound of him blowing on his hands and rubbing them together to warm them.  “Cream, no sugar.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

“Your window art,” his voice continued, and Trish straightened ever so slightly at the mention of her work.  “It’s fantastic.  Can I ask who painted it?”

“Absolutely,” Nadia returned, turning her attention to getting the coffee he requested.  “My business partner, Trish.”

“Is she around, by any chance?”

Nadia glanced down at where Trish sat scrunched up and did what Trish thought was a very poor job of suppressing a smirk.  “She’s, um, indisposed at the moment.  Why do you ask?”

“I’ve got a couple of windows that could use a little holiday cheer.  Think she might be interested in the job?”

Nadia gave Trish another brief sideways glance.

Trish shook her head frantically.

“Tell you what.  Leave me your number, and we’ll find out.”  Nadia stepped out of reach before Trish could smack her leg.

“Great, thanks.  Here’s my card.”

“I’ll see that she gets it, Mr.—“  Nadia glanced at the card.  “—Rafferty.  Here’s your coffee, and you, sir, have a very nice day.”

The bell on the door jingled again, and Trish cautiously poked her head up long enough to verify that Ian was indeed gone.  She then ignored the fascinated look Mrs. Beasley was giving her and fixed an icy stare on Nadia.  “I’m going to kill you.  How could you do that?”

Nadia tossed her dark braids over her shoulder.  “Hmph.  Shush me in my own shop…”

“I don’t want to talk to that guy!  I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”

“He seemed nice enough to me,” her friend returned, shrugging unapologetically.  “And easy on the eyes, too.”

“And single,” put in Mrs. Beasley eagerly, one wrinkled hand fluttering over her heart.  “No wedding ring.”

“Of course there’s no ring!  No woman wants to marry the devil!”  Trish sank back down onto the floor and leaned back heavily against the shelves behind her.

“He used to be the devil,” Nadia corrected her, examining the business card he had handed to her.  “Now he’s ‘Ian Rafferty, Landscape Architect’.  And he’s a paying customer, Trish.  Face it, you could use the money.”

“Forget it.  I’m not so hard up that I’d go crawling to Ian Rafferty for a job.”  Trish scowled and folded her arms across her chest.  “I have my dignity, you know.”

“Yeah?  Why don’t you get up off the floor and tell me all about your dignity.”

“Oh, shut up,” Trish muttered, getting to her feet and snatching the card from Nadia’s hand.  Wadding it up, she tossed it in the direction of the trashcan and stalked into the bakery’s kitchen.

 

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Pastels-Jingle-Heavenly-Novella-Novellas-ebook/dp/B00GCVZEG6/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_d_2

Barnes & Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/pastels-and-jingle-bells-christine-s-feldman/1117301494?ean=2940148897422

Bio:  Christine S. Feldman writes both novels and feature-length screenplays, and, to her great delight, she has placed in screenwriting competitions on both coasts—and has even won a couple of them.  In 2012 one of her screenplays was featured as a staged reading in New York City at the Gotham Screen International Film Festival (http://www.gsiff.com/content/staged-screenplay-reading-1), and later that same year she signed her first publishing contract.  When she is not writing, she is teaching kindergarten, puttering around in her garden, ballroom dancing with her husband, or doing research for her next project.  Please visit her at her website http://christinesfeldman.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ChristineSFeldman, or follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/FeldmanCS.

 

 

 

 

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12 Days of Christmas: Cara Marsi

For the seventh day of our 12 Days of Christmas, please welcome Cara Marsi to the blog.

Thanks for having me today, Lisa!

What inspired this story?

I love the Hallmark Christmas movies. My husband does too. We watch them together, and he even cries at some of them. I wanted to write a heartwarming story similar to those, but very sensual. And who doesn’t love Christmas and happy-ever-after?

I have a second Christmas story, too, that was released in 2012, a short story, A Cinderella Christmas, which is a take on the classic fairy tale. A Cinderella Christmas is a 2014 finalist for an EPPIE, an award given to excellence in digital books.

Do you have a favorite scene or character from the book?

My favorite character is Jake Falco, the hero. He had a bad upbringing, but he’s overcome that. He’s always worshipped the heroine from afar. Now he has his chance with her, but he’s hiding a secret that could tear them apart. And he’s darn sexy!

How did it compare to writing your other books?

Some books are easier to write than others. A Groom for Christmas came very easily to me. Maybe because it’s about Christmas traditions, family, and love.

Any chance of a sequel or a spin-off with one of the other characters?

Yes, I may do a marriage-of-convenience story with Graceann’s two best friends, Kate and Zach. The way I explain them in my story is that they don’t like each other, but sparks fly whenever they’re together.

 

Who would your ideal cast be if a movie was made?

Jake would be played by the very sexy Tom Mison, who plays Ichabod Crane on the hit TV show, Sleepy Hollow. He’s not your grandmom’s Ichabod Crane. He looks like my Jake. And Graceann would be played by Amy Adams. She’s sweet, vulnerable, sexy and a little bit playful.

If your book had a soundtrack, what kind of songs would be on it?

It would have to be classic Christmas songs.

 

Do you have any writing rituals?

None. I’ve very disorganized.

What do you like best about being a writer?

I get to write the books I like to read and to make up characters who are real with some of the same problems we all have, but who are a little bit bigger than life, put them in situations that are dangerous or merely dangerous to their hearts, and watch them fight for the happy endings they deserve.

What is your writing process like?

I write an outline so I know where the story’s going, then once I start to write, the characters take over and I toss the outline.

If you get writer’s block, what do you do to snap yourself out of it?

I walk, either around the house or around the neighborhood. Or I eat chocolate, drink red wine, and watch TV.

What would your dream writing space look like?

A huge place that’s neat with room for everything and no boxes of books on the floor, a room that looks out to mountains and the Southwest desert. Since I live on the East Coast of the U.S. I have no desert or mountains, just a small room overlooking a tiny rose garden. And the top of my desk is a disorganized mess. I have boxes of books on the floor.

What’s one thing that’s always on your desk?

A cute little box shaped like a cat. It’s whimsical and makes me smile. There are days when the writing isn’t going well and I need that little kitty. Not to mention my real kitty who likes to sleep in the office at my feet.

What would readers be surprised to know about you?

I’m a TV junkie, and proud of it.

Do you organize your TBR pile?

No, it’s a mess. Now I’ve got a TBR pile in the bookcases in my office and on my Kindle.

What’s next for you?

I’m participating in an anthology of five marriage-of-convenience short stories with four other romance authors. One of our authors has almost 30 books with Harlequin and is a RITA nominee. Another has a dozen books with large publishers. Our stories will encompass the time periods from the early 1800’s in Ireland to present day in the U.S. We’re calling it The Marriage Coin because a magical coin figures in each story. We plan to publish it by Valentine’s Day, 2014.

 

Here’s an excerpt from A Groom for Christmas:

“I have two days to find a fiancé.” Ignoring the anxiety that tightened her stomach, Graceann Palmer dipped her fork into her apple pie à la mode and slipped the tasty treat into her mouth.

Her friend Kate sat next to her at the counter in the quaint fifties-era Spirit Lake Diner, located just outside the small Pennsylvania town of the same name. Kate grinned. “You could advertise online: Fiancé wanted for Christmas. Good pay. Temporary position.”

“Like I’d get a real upstanding guy that way,” Graceann said.

Kate shot her a sympathetic smile. “Face it. You’ll have to tell your family you lied.”

Bing Crosby’s I’ll Be Home for Christmas flowed from the jukebox, mocking Graceann. Her lie had caught up with her. She would come home for Christmas, minus a made-up fiancé.

Graceann finished her pie and pushed the plate away. “Tell my family the truth and have my mom try to fix me up with someone like the dentist she invited to spend the holidays with us last year? Boring, conceited, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Yuck.”

The door opened, bringing in a fresh round of cold, snowy late December air. Shivering, Graceann drew her sweater closer around her.

“I wouldn’t mind finding that under my Christmas tree,” Kate said.

Graceann followed her friend’s gaze to the tall man who’d just entered the diner. Dressed all in black—black motorcycle boots, black jeans, black leather jacket—and walking with the lithe grace of a panther, he took a seat at the other end of the counter. She studied him while he studied the menu. He had classic “bad boy” written all over his features—sharp cheekbones, dark stubble on a square jaw, and midnight black hair tied into a ponytail. Long, tapered fingers held the menu.

Suddenly, he looked up. Clear blue eyes connected with hers. Recognition spiked through her and sent her pulse jumping like a kid on Christmas morning.

“The Falcon,” she whispered.

“What?” Kate gasped. “You’re right. It is The Falcon.”

His full lips tilted in a slow, sexy grin, showing even white teeth. He nodded at them before turning his attention to the waitress. After he gave his order, he didn’t look in their direction again.

Kate gripped Graceann’s arm, her fingers digging into Graceann’s flesh beneath the heavy sweater. “Wow. The Falcon. I heard he left town the day after his graduation from Spirit Lake High fourteen years ago and hasn’t been heard from since.”

“Wonder what he’s doing back here,” Graceann said. In school, she’d had a crush on The Falcon even though he was two years ahead of her. She’d never told anyone, not even Kate.

“He’s a little scruffy,” Kate said.

“Scruffy, my tush. He’s hot.”

Kate grabbed her arm again as Graceann lifted her coffee mug. Coffee sloshed over the sides onto the counter. Setting the mug down, Graceann gave her friend an exasperated look. “What?”

“I have it,” Kate said. “Your fiancé.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Falcon. I’ll bet he’ll pretend to be your fiancé. After Zach bowed out, you said you’d be willing to pay someone. The Falcon always needed cash. Do it. Ask him.”

“You’re crazy. I haven’t seen him in fourteen years. He could be a serial killer for all we know.”

Kate shook her head. “He’s not. We would have heard.” She leaned closer. “You’ll be at your grandmother’s with the whole family. You’ll be safe. Your grandmother is old-fashioned. She’ll put you in separate rooms. It’s not like he’s a total stranger. Bring him to meet the family, pretend you’re wildly in love. Your mom will quit trying to fix you up. After the holidays you won’t ever have to see him again. Once you’re back in New York, you can tell your family you broke the engagement. That’s what you planned to do with Zach.”

Graceann put a hand up. “This is the craziest idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had plenty. I can’t ask this guy to go along with my scheme. I’ll have to resign myself to fending off another loser my mom pushes at me. She means well, but she won’t accept that I’m not interested in marriage. After what Michael did, my whole family feels sorry for me. I don’t want or need their pity.”

“Michael was a jerk. He didn’t deserve you. Listen to me, Graceann. Ask. The. Falcon. What could it hurt to at least ask?”

“His name is Jake, and I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t wait too long. He’ll be out of here and you’ll have missed your chance.”

Graceann sipped her coffee and stole glances at Jake Falco. Maybe Kate was right. Jake had always been nice to her and had even come to her aid once when the mean girls were harassing her. He might help her out now. At her grandmother’s, they’d be surrounded by family. She wouldn’t be alone with him. Her gut feelings were usually on target, so she’d learned to listen. She’d ignored her instincts with Michael and look how that had turned out. Something was telling her to go ahead and take a chance on Jake.

“I’ll do it.” She stood before she lost her nerve.

 

 

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12 Days of Christmas: Jina Bacarr

Author Jina Bacarr stops by for our sixth day of the 12 Days of Christmas with a blog post about an inspiring Christmas in Italy and an excerpt of her new release A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

 

 

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

Jina Bacarr

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 is a story of the heart.

When I lived in Italy, I always enjoyed the spirit of Christmas and the Nativity scene. It’s a time when the chocolate flows like wine and the holiday spirit is everywhere. I’ll never forget when I found myself playing hostess at the U.S. Army Service Club to two nuns and several excited little boys from the local orphanage. I paired them up with Army and Air Force servicemen from the base. It was amazing how the soldiers took to the Italian kids even though they couldn’t understand a word.

Things got crazy when a little boy got lost and the men sent out a search party. When a sergeant found him hiding under the piano, a loud cheer went up. Each soldier had a grin on his face. I’ll never forget those smiles.

It was a melancholy moment when the nuns clapped their hands and the little boys lined up. Time to leave. That night I took a busload of soldiers to Midnight Mass in an ancient church in Pisa. It was Christmas Eve. We had mugs of hot chocolate and cookies I baked and boy, was it cold!  I’ll never forget the spiritual joy of seeing these men (many of them combat veterans) rediscover their faith in that medieval church with its high ceilings and hard wooden pews. A coming home for some, a new beginning for others.

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is about one such soldier who lost his faith in a different war when the Nazis fought hard to keep the Allies from reaching Rome. Captain Mack O’Casey makes a wrong turn and finds himself in a small bombed-out village where he meets a beautiful young nun, Sister Angelina. Their story will break your heart when they realize they’re falling in love but that love can never be. There’s also a mystery (I love archaeology so this is no surprise) about the lost Cross of Saint Cecelia and the brutal Nazi major who will stop at nothing to get it.

But most of all, it’s a love story about two people who come together on this holiest of holidays and how faith helps them overcome their greatest fears. Mack and Sister Angelina take us back to a time when the whole world held its breath as these brave men and women fought for freedom.

And a soldier and a nun dared to fall in love…

 

Excerpt from Chapter One of A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

 

He 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 sitting on the ground and light flooded the small courtyard. He didn’t breathe until he was certain she wouldn’t shoot him. Dark, beautiful eyes flecked with amber 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 rendered her face with an exotic aura that 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 trust him.

“I thought this village was deserted,” he said, taking a moment to return her scrutiny. Dressed in a man’s dark clothes and heavy jacket, he noticed mud clinging to her boots and the knees of her trousers with a torn cuff. A navy blue beret fit snugly over her head. 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 Nazi big guns cut us off from our unit.”

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 raced out from the shadows and crowded around her. Mack smiled. Round, cherub faces, black unruly hair. They reminded him of his brothers back home in Brooklyn when 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 at 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 from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

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Vine video link: https://t.co/VmOOFx3FJq

For our fifth day of the 12th Days of Christmas, author Carol DeVaney stops by the blog today to answer some questions, talk books and share an excerpt of

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12 Days of Christmas: Carol DeVaney

For our fifth day of the 12th Days of Christmas, author Carol DeVaney stops by the blog today to answer some questions, talk books and share an excerpt of A SMOKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS.

What inspired this story?

For fun, a friend and myself chose the same writing prompt to write a short paragraph. Before I knew it, I had about a half page, and Tina, my main character, was born. To be honest, after the first couple of sentences, some of the characters Sandra Bullock played became Tina. The scene developed like a movie playing inside my head.

 

Do you have a favorite scene or character from the book?

Yes. Tina is a city girl out of her element in the mountains. Hank leaves her to prepare a simple dinner and light the wood stove That’s when havoc begins.

 

Was there anything particularly challenging about writing this?

Writing humor was something I’d never done, nor ever thought of doing. So the book was a challenge only that humor was new to me. But, while I kept Sandra bullock in my head, the scenes played out, and I had a fun time writing Tina and Hank’s journey.

 

If your heroine had a theme song what would it be?

Georgia on My Mind. Lol. Tina wanted to get home.

 

What character gave you the toughest time to write in the book?

I really didn’t have a hard time with any of the characters, as with each scene they all presented themselves just in time!

 

Which character is most like you or unlike you?

Tina would be more like me in that, I like a challenge and Tina certainly had her share during the few days she spent in Hand’s cabin.

 

Any chance of a sequel or a spin-off with one of the other characters?

Yes. I’m already working on book two, ‘A Smoky Mountain Christmas Wedding.’ A Smoky Mountain Baby will be book three in the series. I’m looking forward to writing both books.

 

Who would your ideal cast be if a movie was made?

Most definitely Sandra Bullock and Tom Hanks. I’d love to see them playing Tina and Hank. I’m not sure of the other characters.

 

If your book had a soundtrack, what kind of songs would be on it?

Christmas Carols

 

Do you have any writing rituals?

Since my 91 year-old mom lives with me, now I write in fifteen or twenty minute intervals or whatever time I can steal.

 

What do you like best about being a writer?

Making up characters and their stories with problems to solve and a happy ending. There isn’t anything better than to get an email from a reader who truly loved the characters and book. Better yet, when the reader wants to know the rest of the story or they’d like to know what happened to a particular character and if he/she would be in a future sequel.

 

What is your writing process like?

Usually a character presents himself or herself and I contemplate their appeal for a while. Sometimes the plot works its way inside my head immediately, sometimes not. If not, then I’ll interview the characters. Afterward I know them well enough to begin an outline. From there, I plot out chapters and see what works and what doesn’t. I used to write in sprints with friends, but found it was distracting to me. Writing for me, I’ve found, has to be a solitary and necessary way to complete a book.

 

If you get writer’s block, what do you do to snap yourself out of it?

I’m not sure I actually have writer’s block, but at times I do have too much on my mind and it takes a stretch to shatter the influence of not writing for a while. I’ll pull up a manuscript, read over what I’ve written and just begin to type. Much of what’s written may be discarded, still there are good lines to graft into the next chapter.

 

What would your dream writing space look like?

A second floor huge room with windows filling one entire side overlooking a mountain and lake. Floor to ceiling bookcases around two other walls would be a must. A nice big cherry desk, filing cabinets, a coffee pot, an easy chair with a lamp, and soft music playing in the background. Oh, sound proof and a lock on the door. I don’t ask for much do I? Ha!

 

What’s one thing that’s always on your desk?

Photographs of my family.

 

What would readers be surprised to know about you?

That I’m basically shy and quiet! My other personality shows through my writings.

 

What was the last book to be added to your keeper shelf?

CHRISTMAS ON MAIN STREET, a box set of 11 Christmas stories, of which my A Smoky Mountain Christmas is included, now a bestseller at Amazon. I love reading the stories by all the exciting authors.

 

Do you organize your TBR pile?

By genre, otherwise I pick one up and begin reading.

 

What’s next for you?

I’m working to complete book two and three of A Smoky Mountain Christmas series. My next book after those two are finished is ‘Not My Own.’ The book is close to my heart, in that there is a young boy, involved in the plot. I’m partial to children who captivate myself and readers in stories.

Here’s a short blurb for Not My Own:

After nine years of being estranged from her father, Megan Phillips now faces the second most difficult time in her life. The man who hurt her the most, has summoned her back to Vail, Colorado, her childhood home. Even in death, her father dishes out the last word. One thing she knows for sure is, she won’t allow her father to dictate her future from the grave.

Either Megan procure responsibility for Adam, a seven-year-old brother she hadn’t known existed, or she loses a vast inheritance. Megan wants nothing from her father, and refuses the inheritance. But, her father’s love child has nothing to do with the rift between her and her father. She won’t abandon Adam without placing him with family or in a good home. Unable to locate the mother and after finding out the boy’s grandparents are only after Adam’s inheritance, her search ends. Megan’s life is altered in ways she never dreamed.

Then, there’s her father’s lawyer, the hunky Bret Evans. A bachelor, all business, Bret is married to his law practice. Love and a family of his own is far down the ladder of achievements. Megan, the woman who catches his eye from the start, could be the one who removes a few rungs in his ladder.

Whatever will Megan do with a man who makes her forget she never wanted children, a family? The man who takes her breath away.

Hidden in the shadows and bent on revenge, is the man Megan helped put away for abusing his children. Now it’s payback time.

 

A Smoky Mountain Christmas

CHAPTER SIX

 

Hank’s, brow rose and deepened the wrinkle across his forehead. “Is your sister anything like you?”

“No.” Tina glared at him. “We don’t always agree, but she’s much nicer. Well…most of the time.”

“I’m sure she is.” He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “Look. There’s no reason for you to become upset. And don’t worry. You’re safe here. Safe with me.”

“I’m sure all murderers tell their victims the same thing. Trust me. Right?”

Hank let the comment go, slid the deer back inside the freezer and continued to dig around in the freezer. “Okay, since deer is out,” he held up a small tan package, “this is beef. Won’t take long to defrost in the microwave. Do you know how to make a meatloaf?”

“Never made one. You tell me how and I’ll give it a shot.”

Hank came to an abrupt halt and hung his arm over the open refrigerator door. “How old are you, Tina?”

“Why?”

“You look old enough to have learned a little something about cooking. Anything?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never had the desire to learn. I get by. Take Out or drive-through are fabulous and easy.”

“I should have known.” Hank threw up his hands and let out a growl. “And you expect to live that way forever?”

“There again, the question hasn’t come up that I’d be doing any of those things myself.” The man was entirely too nosey.

Hank ignored her. “Tell me you can at least dice an onion? Crack and separate an egg?”

Tina rolled her eyes and reminded herself, she was at the man’s mercy. “Can’t be that hard.” But, she was also his guest. “You’re sure you don’t want to cook dinner yourself?”

“See what you can do.” Hank explained in detail how to defrost meat in the microwave and mix a meatloaf. “I’m going out to chop more wood and check on Hatchet. Storm’s picked up and you may be here longer than I first thought.” He drug on his coat and hat and started out the door. “Give me your car keys. I’ll bring in your bag. Going to need it.”

Tina dug around in her pocket but came up empty. She had no keys. “The keys must be in the car. I don’t remember if I locked the door or not.” How careless could she be? To lock herself out of the car in this weather was more than careless. Could have been the fiasco with Sam, the dog, too.

“Never mind. If the lock isn’t frozen, I’ll get it open.”

“Don’t scratch my car.”

“Lady. You worry too much about that car.” Hank shook his head. “You should be concerned with not having any clothes. What will you wear?”

Since chopping wood had become the task at hand earlier, and with all else going on, what to wear wasn’t an issue. “I’ll manage,” she said. “Maybe raid your closet?”

“Whatever works,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I take care of Hatchet.”

***

Thirty minutes later Hank barged through the door, arms loaded high again with wood. He shoved the door closed with a foot, glanced into the kitchen and headed to the fireplace.

His eyes narrowed. He took his time laying out the wood and coming to grips with a female in the kitchen. Strange to see another female in the kitchen, especially one who looked uncomfortable and out of place. At least she had the common sense to clean up after putting the meatloaf together, which was more than his wife had done. Tina was a pretty woman. No, she was lovely.

He drove away the thought; he did not want to be attracted to Tina.

“How do you turn this thing on?”

Hank dropped the remainder of the wood, and bent to snag a log that rolled up against the rocker.

“Turn it on?” Hank doubled over in laughter. “You could struggle until doomsday and never find a switch. Lord, woman. You give a kitchen a new name. You don’t strike me as a helpless woman, but frankly, I’m beginning to wonder.”

“I believe I mentioned cooking wasn’t something I focused on.”

“Don’t need to focus, simply put forth an effort ”

Hank watched her face and could tell, something inside her snapped.

“Helpless? Helpless? Not on your life, buster. Tell me how to get this thing started and move out of my way. I’m going to finish this dinner and you’re going to eat it.”

A head taller than Tina, Hank glanced down at her soft hair, and wondered what it smelled of. Probably a hundred bucks worth. Not going further inside that thought, he dropped his hands on her shoulders, then turned her to face the stove. “Watch.”

Hank lifted the stove’s grate and set it aside. He dug around the wood box on the floor, laid crumpled paper in the stove, kindling on top, then lit the paper. When the kindling caught, he laid small crisscross strips of wood a few pieces at a time on top, then stacked the others to the side.

“Let that catch, then add five or six more of the larger pieces. You’ll have enough heat to bake and cook whatever you want in no time.”

Tina leaned over, stared down inside the stove while her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “Isn’t that something? Amazing.”

Hank bent to move the wood-box. “Nothing to it.” When he looked up, he found a puzzled look on her face as she studied him.

“Yeah. So you say. What do you know? A man who’s as much at ease in the kitchen as outdoors. You’ve never been married have you?”

“Off limits.” Hank’s icy glare gave her more than little cause to reconsider prying into his personal life.

“Fine, I get it. No meddling allowed.”

The twitch at the corner of his mouth slowed. “Exactly.”

“And I’ve got the stove’s workings covered. I think.”

“Maybe. If the fire begins to burn down quickly, add more wood.” He stopped. “A little at a time. You don’t want to snuff it out.”

“Snuff it out?”

“Put it out.” He turned on a heel, left her with a blank stare in the middle of the kitchen, and stormed outside into the cold.

***

Okay, so he hadn’t actually said she was helpless, but he may as well have. She was determined more than ever to get food on the table. Good food.

Now, she had something to prove not only to herself, but to him, a stranger who’d given her cause to think about her upbringing. Now, why was that?

Though she had zero reason to prove herself in the kitchen, or otherwise, she would. Along comes this mountain man, and all of a sudden, what he thought mattered more than she expected. It mattered that he not regard her as fragile, and unable to pull her own weight. She was capable of doing anything she set her mind to, had never relied on others for self-worth or to believe in herself.

While drawers squeaked opened, Tina wondered what Hank was doing in the bedroom, which was none of her business. The sound of drawers sliding back in place stopped, then he stood in the doorway, dragged a hand down his face, and nodded toward the bedroom.

“I’ve laid some clothes on the bed…such as they are. Definitely too big, but it’s the best I can do.”

Tina looked around for her suitcase. “I’d much rather have my own. Didn’t you get my trunk unlocked? I thought you had something to trigger the door lock.”

“Frozen solid. I checked while I was out. Couldn’t get anything between the window and door. We’ll wait until the sun comes up and warms the lock tomorrow afternoon. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“This should prove interesting.” With a shrug, Tina walked into the bedroom, and held the huge orange football shirt against her chest. Orange did nothing for her complexion.

A belt, that would go around her twice, slid to the floor when she picked up a pair of faded jeans from the bed. When she knelt to pick it up, she bumped heads with Hank as he reached to grab the belt.

“Oops. I had no idea you were behind me. Thanks for the clothes.”

“They don’t say fashion, but they’ll work.” Hank cleared his throat and pointed at her head. “You okay?”

“I’m tough.” Tina was uncomfortable being with him in his bedroom, but she’d be darned if she’d show it. “Not only am I stuck here, but have no clothes or cosmetics. I don’t suppose you have any mild face soap?”

I’m darned sure not asking for face cream.

Hank shrugged and turned toward the bathroom. “I’ll see what I can come up with. When you’re ready for bed, say the word.”

Deduction. One bedroom—one bed. ‘Course there was always the sofa. Not sure of the answer, but had to ask, she stuck her head around the bathroom door.

“Uh…where do you suggest I sleep?”

With Tina on his heels, Hank sauntered through the bedroom and into the living room. He plunked down another log on the fire, faced its warmth, his hands clasped behind his back.

“In my bed, of course.”

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Carol’s website: http://www.caroldevaney.weebly.com/