Count Down to Halloween with me . . . 10 days to go till my Speed Date with a Vampire

Reading up on Speed Dating


Turned off by online dating?

Friends fixing you up?

Try speed dating.

I did.

And I found the most gorgeous vampire.

Count down to Halloween with me as we get closer to the holiday and My Speed Date with a Vampire.

A short story to die for…



Star-Kissed Lovers for #SweetestDay

Is there anything sweeter than a kiss?

Sweetest Day started out as a sweet day in 1916 as Candy Day.

I’d like to celebrate  this day with a poem.


Star-Kissed Lovers

There once was a lass
With a lot of brass

When she met a lad
Who looked so sad

“Sweet candy is what you need,” said she
Did she give him chocolate to make him happy?

No, ‘twas something sweeter to take him to bliss
A big, yummy, sweet, delicious kiss!


National Day on Writing . . . Why I Write

Me and my fairy tale friends

National Day on Writing . . . Why I Write

Once upon a time a little girl moved from kingdom to kingdom.
She had no time to make friends So she made up stories.
The fairy tale characters became her friends.
That little girl was me.

I write to make people smile and feel the touch of friendship.

And I’m Irish.

A Kentucky Christmas and a holiday piano on #KentuckyDay

A small fictional town in my Christmas Piano Tree story


I remember Christmas in Kentucky when I was a kid.

We lived in a lot of states, but I loved Kentucky with its beautiful woods and small towns like Versailles and Corbin.

And Kissing Creek.

Oh, but wait . . .

Kissing Creek exists only in “The Christmas Piano Tree.”

It’s my manuscript on submission to Hallmark Publishing . . .

It’s a homespun small town where a pretty young war widow lives with her little girl. When an old Army buddy of her late husband shows up looking for a hot meal, she’s intrigued . . . he’s homeless, but he has a secret that will change her life!

Keep you posted . . .


PS — actually I have two Christmas books on submission to Hallmark!

#ChocolateCupcakeDay like you’ve seen it . . . I mean him. Yum.

Cupcakes can be so yummy….

Eye candy for today . . .

The Rogue from Rome on #NationalPastaDay


The way to a rogue’s heart is through his…

Well, not exactly. At least for this handsome, dashing rogue from Rome.

Find out how a pretty signorina catches his eye on National Pasta Day!




(my poem as written on the graphic)


There once was a rogue from Rome

Who wandered far from home

A pretty wife to find

To make pasta divine

Such was his desire

To light his fire

But the girl who caught his eye

Couldn’t cook or bake or fry

What she could do I don’t have to tell you

Needless to say They went out for pasta every day

And made passionate love all through the night

Our virile rogue al dente when out went the light…


Featured Image -- 2069


If you love Civil War romance and time travel and TWO hunky military heroes, check out my Kindle Scout winner:


She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.
And time.

LOVE ME FOREVER is now available from Kindle Press at

Ride, Baby, ride…my excellent Paris adventure for #MotorcycleRideDay


His name was Romain and I was in Paris on a summer break from college when he nearly ran me over with his motorcycle. Okay, it was my fault since I was ogling this gorgeous hunk of masculinity in his ripped T-shirt and tight jeans and I got too close to the curb and stumbled into the street.

“Pardon, mademoiselle,” he said, knowing he wasn’t to blame, but taking it on the chin anyway.

Brooding dark eyes with unruly dark hair gave him an outlaw look. Sitting astride his big motorcycle, he glared at me, his strongly arched brows furrowed as if he were sizing me up. I felt naked under his penetrating gaze. And I liked it. I was sure the gods watching over lonely college co-eds in strange lands had sent him to me.

How could I resist when he offered me a ride?

We became a twosome that summer. Inseparable day and night. I have no doubt he drove the fastest, sleekest motorcycle in Paris. Speeding up and down the bustling Boulevard Saint-Germain and the Latin Quarter with me on the back. A long, crusty baguette in one hand, holding onto his muscular bod with the other.

My fingers seeking his hard chest through the holes in his ripped T-shirt.

Ah, yes, the moments memories are made of.

“Hold on tight, ma chérie,” he yelled into the wind scented with the lingering perfume of lost queens and courtesans. Even the smoky exhaust couldn’t mask it. “I’m going to put pedal to the metal, as you Americans say.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I snuggled up close to him. Damn, I loved the feeling I got hugging his body. The strong musky smell of his maleness hit my nostrils, reminding me of the sultry nights I’d spent in his arms in my tiny hotel room on the rue du Sommerard…our bodies twisted together in harmony, him whispering words of endearment in French, me wishing I’d paid more attention in French class.

M. Appel, my professor, would have raised an aristocratic eyebrow and tapped his pointer on the edge of my nose. “Bien, mademoiselle,” I could hear him say. “I told you someday you’d regret not studying your French idioms.”

So be the folly of my youth.

But Romain and I didn’t have trouble communicating between the sheets. I was tempted to tell that to M. Appel when the fall quarter started. In three weeks. Till then, Romain was all mine.

“Bon,” the sexy Frenchman said, shifting his weight on the leather seat of his motorcycle and pushing his butt into my groin, sending me to paradise. “Let me show you Paris like you’ve never seen her.”

Off we went.

We rode around Paris on his big, sexy motorcycle. Up the steep hills of Montmartre and past Sacré-Cœur, then the fancy boutiques on the rue de Rivoli before zooming under the bridges where the homeless of Paris sought refuge from the chaos above.

As they had for hundreds of years.

Every day, we stopped under the bridge and brought fresh baguettes to the people huddled there. Gathered around the burning flame in the old metal trashcan, eking out an existence. I had no idea Paris had so many les exclus, as they were called. It broke my heart. I saw them begging on church steps, at train stations, in the park with the carousel.

Romain told me his family was once homeless after his father died. His mother and three little sisters lived under the bridge when he was fifteen and they couldn’t find room in a shelter. He worked as a laborer till his hands bled so he could get them a tiny apartment. Over the years, he worked even harder to better himself, go to university and, now in his late twenties, he had his dream bike.

He rode it everywhere.

His muscular arms and big hands maneuvering his lean, mean machine through ancient narrow streets and back alleys. Me on the back. His strong torso crushing my breasts, his hips grinding against mine, his body heat so wonderfully intense, I melted into him. By the time I had to go home to the States, I’d ripped apart half a dozen of his T-shirts with my nails. Holding onto him. Wanting him.

And when we made love at night, he rode…mais non, that’s my little secret.

A summer in Paris I’ll never forget.


Coming for Halloween: MY SPEED DATE WITH A VAMPIRE

meet Count di Romanzo, a vampire to die for









Featured Image -- 2069If you love Civil War romance and time travel and TWO hunky military heroes, check out my Kindle Scout winner:


She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.
And time.

LOVE ME FOREVER is now available from Kindle Press at

Oh, yeah, this guy for #NoodleDay

A hunky guy and yummy pasta noodles…and of course, a little poem:
There once was a girl who noodled
No, I don’t mean she doodled
She made pasta every night
To keep her man in her sight

Why Hot Java is a sexy brew for #CoffeeDay

ooh, this sounds divine!

Every girl is looking for a pot of gold…why not a golden coffee cup? Love this photo. Rich, decadent…what makes it better is when you share it with your favorite guy…so here’s to Hot Java!

I hope you enjoy my poem for Coffee Day:


Java is a girl’s best friend
When you don’t want that special night to end

“Stick around for a cup of Joe,” you say
After a night in bed that blew you away

Then watch his eyes glow with desire
When you put on the coffee and light his fire

Wearing a sexy black teddy, tight and see-through
You ask, “Eggs or cinnamon buns with your brew?”

“I’ll have the buns,” he says, eyeing yours with a smile
You shiver with glee. The coffee can wait for awhile

It’s back to bed with your man for round two
And to coffee you say, a big “Thank you!”



Halloween is around the corner, so….

Pumpkin Spice rules


#Women’sEqualityDay: when a Tennessee belle in 1862 meets her twin from the future


Meet my odd couple: Two heroines in my Civil War time travel romance, LOVE ME FOREVER

A time traveler from the future.

A Southern belle and a spy.

One a strawberry-blonde, the other raven-haired. One believes in the Union; the other will do anything for the cause. One in love with a man she can’t have…the other engaged to a man she doesn’t love.

These two women do have one thing in common: believing in women’s equality. Here my time traveler, Liberty, questions her involvement with belle Pauletta Sue:

She couldn’t stop questioning how she got mixed up with this crazy secesh woman and her insane scheme. She’d never seen a woman so passionate about a cause, so truly believing what she was doing was patriotism. The war had unleashed a fire in her, and the more Liberty understood about the protected, delicate lifestyle these women led, the more she knew a great movement was underway that went beyond their cause.

It wasn’t until 1866 that the American Equal Rights Association was founded, but this was the beginning of the movement leading to women’s freedom and that she could understand. What bothered her was that Pauletta Sue was on the losing side of the war and because of that, she might not benefit from the changes women embraced afterward. She worked so hard at her cause, Liberty believed she deserved better, but the belle wouldn’t listen to her.


Sister against Sister during the Civil War: Love Me Forever from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

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

If you love Civil War romance and time travel and TWO hunky military heroes, find out in my Kindle Scout winner.

Love_Me_Forever_500x798LOVE ME FOREVER

She wore gray.
He wore blue.
But their love defied the boundaries of war.
And time.

LOVE ME FOREVER is available from Kindle Press and KU at

%d bloggers like this: