Category Archives: World War II

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas: “The girl was a beauty,” but the soldier didn’t know she was a nun…

My holiday novella, A Soldier’s ASoldiersItalianChristmas_256_384Italian Christmas is the story of a soldier and a nun who discover forbidden love in war torn Italy during the winter of 1943.

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas” is truly a story of the heart.

I lived in Italy and always enjoyed the spirit of Christmas and the Nativity scene…it’s a time when the chocolate flows like wine. The holiday spirit is everywhere…but I’ll never forget when I took a busload of soldiers to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve in an ancient church in Pisa. We had mugs of hot chocolate and cookies I baked and boy, was it cold! That moment was one of many that inspired my story. I never forgot 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.

My story 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 fought for freedom. And a soldier and a nun dared to fall in love

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

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A Soldier’s Italian Christmas (O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1)

In this excerpt, Capt. Mack O’Casey doesn’t know the woman dressed in men’s clothes holding a gun on him is a nun:

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.

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A Soldier’s Italian Christmas (O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1) is available on Amazon for Kindle!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

~Jina

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A Soldier’s Italian Christmas: Video Excerpt from Chapter One of a forbidden romance during WW2 in war torn Italy

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas
O’Casey Brothers in Arms 1

December 1943
Italy

Two days before Christmas, Captain Mack O’Casey gets separated from his unit during battle. He makes a wrong turn and finds himself in a small bombed-out village called Monte D’Oro Rose. It appears to be deserted. It isn’t. A beautiful young woman is watching his every move…

Who is she? You’ll find out in this Video Excerpt from Chapter One of A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

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Excerpt from Chapter One of “A Soldier’s Italian Christmas:”

“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.

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

Here is my special video excerpt with lots of photos and my voiceover. It’s 11 minutes long–I cover the first few pages of Chapter One…it was quite a challenge.

I hope you enjoy it.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!

Jina

==========

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 holiday novella sweet romance available on Amazon Kindle

Pink Hibiscus: An Army Nurse’s letter to her sister on December 7, 1941

pink_hibiscus_pretty_nurse

If you like stories about love, war, and medicine, check out my Civil War time travel romance, LOVE ME FOREVER – a Civil War medical drama that takes place in 1862 in Virginia in a plantation turned into a hospital.

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

December 7, 1941

7:30 a.m.

Dear Peggy,

I’m bustin’ with news to tell you, little sister. I only have a few minutes before my shift at the hospital starts, so bear with me. I don’t know where to begin. It all happened so fast. I met Jimmy at the Officers’ Club when I first got here last summer and the handsome Army Air Force lieutenant asked me to dance. The band was playing Moonlight Serenade and before I knew it he had his arms around me, holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe.

Then he kissed me.

Oh, it was so romantic. The warm night breeze blowing in off the ocean, the smell of pink hibiscus making me wild with desire, his hand reaching under my long evening gown and sliding up my thigh. Then he picked me up in his arms and carried me down to the beach and we…

7:45 a.m.

Sorry, I got called away by the nurse-in-charge. She was worried about a patient wheezing and coughing. She thought it might be pneumonia. Just a couple of nurses on duty this morning, so she asked me to help her with paperwork. I was disappointed, seeing hhibiscus_1_nurseow I haven’t had much chance to use my nursing skills since I’ve been here. Not much happening. Still, Pearl is the best duty an Army nurse could wish for. We get a few pilots scraped up after a rough landing or with a bad hangover, but it’s mostly sunny days and balmy nights.

I bet you and Mom were all bundled up when you did this year’s Christmas shopping at Wanamaker’s. I love walking down Market Street with all the holiday decorations. The soft, white snow landing on top of the pretzel man’s cart. The hot cocoa with Mom’s fresh whipped cream. I miss you and the family so much, but don’t worry about me, I’m having the best time of my life. I’ve nearly worn out the soles on my new high-heeled pumps dancing every night with Jimmy.

Here’s my news, he…

7:55 a.m.

Something’s happening, Peggy, something awful. Sirens going off, a loud explosion, and everyone’s scrambling. I’ll write more later. I’ve got to get back to my patients. They’re jumping out of bed and yelling for their pants.

We’re under attack . . . oh, God, what’s happening?

======

11:30 p.m.

It’s over. For now.

A mad, insane day that I shall never forget . . .

But my job is just beginning. I wish I could call you on the telephone and hear your voice, tell you that I’m okay, but that’s impossible, so I’ll write everything down as fast as I can. Here’s what happened earlier today on December 7, 1941 . . .

The second wave of the surprise attack lasted until nearly 10 a.m. I haven’t stopped since then and I’d still be racing from one patient to the next if the nurse-in-charge hadn’t insisted I get some rest.

First, I’ll give you detailed account before I grab a few minutes of sleep, then go back on duty. My thoughts are scattered, so bear with me.

By the time you read this, you’ll know the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on a quiet Sunday morning at 7:55 a.m. I was recording a patient’s vitals when a soldier with a broken leg asked me to help him stand up. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked real nervous. Said he heard something that didn’t sound right. Planes flying overhead that weren’t ours. I thought he was joking, then I looked out the big, square hospital window—

Oh, my God, Peggy, I don’t know how to describe what I saw. Planes roaring overhead with red suns emblazoned on them. Loud, ear-splitting explosions. Black plumes of smoke swirling into the sky like a death flower.

It was maddening. Fear choked my throat. My body went numb. Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. I wiped them away with defiance.

Nurses don’t cry.

I let go with a long shudder. I don’t know what came over me. Fear, I guess, but I was okay now. Duty came first. This was what I’d spent years studying for, watching, observing, the sleepless nights working in the emergency room in the big Philadelphia hospital. It all came together for me in that moment.

Thank God.

Within minutes, the wounded came pouring in. Carried in on anything sturdy enough to hold them. The sound of antiaircraft fire ringing in our ears, bombs exploding outside and shaking the walls. I don’t want to shock you, but you and those at home must know what we’re up against in this war. The pain, the horror. Men missing limbs. Bloodied wounds. Ugly burns with exposed flesh. Others in shock. We had no electricity, no elevators to transport the wounded to surgery. Not enough nurses. Supplies running out fast.

But we did it. We saved as many lives as we could and prayed for those we couldn’t.

I went from one patient to the next, never stopping until—

I saw him. My lieutenant. Carrying a wounded soldier on his back, blood splattered all over his uniform.

“Jimmy, Jimmy!” I yelled out, trying to get his attention.

“Kitty . . . ” He looked so relieved to see me it made me tear up. I could see in his eyes he wanted to hold me close to him, never let me go. I wanted to feel his warmth, smell his woodsy, masculine scent. Prove to myself he was here, alive.

My patient came first.

After I stabilized the wounded man, Jimmy held me in his arms and pulled off my nurse’s cap, and then ran his fingers through my hair.

“Thank God, you’re okay, Kitty,” he said, his lips brushing my cheek. He told me we lost several battleships and more than a hundred planes, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He was going to get into the air no matter what he had to do. Drive all over the island until he found a P36 gassed up and ready to go.

He cupped my chin and said,  “I’ll be seeing you, babe.”

I smiled up at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

Then he left. I blew him a kiss. I knew what he was thinking. He had his job and I had mine. Whatever words and soft kisses we’d exchanged under the swaying palms would have to wait.

We were at war.

And God willing, we’d be together again soon.

But nothing will erase what happened here on this Sunday morning at Pearl Harbor, the sun bright yellow and hot. Then the sky became dark with enemy planes set on destroying us and our way of life. My heart is so heavy with the pain of what I saw today. The suffering and the dying. It’s my job and the job of every serviceman and woman to stop them before they reach our home shores.

You have a job, too, Peggy. Take care of Mom and Dad, and tell them not to worry about me. I know everyone will do whatever they can so our fighting men can return home safe.

I can’t wait until I see you all again. When this horrible mess is over, we’ll sit under the old apple tree and eat bon bons and I’ll show you the prettiest engagement ring you ever saw. Yes, that’s my surprise. Jimmy asked me to marry him.

Till then, little sister, pray for me. And our boys fighting what some say will be a long, hard battle. But we’ll win. We have to. For the sake of free men and women everywhere.

Love, your big sister,

Kitty

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

World War 2 women soldiers

I hope you enjoyed reliving the events of December 7, 1941 through Kitty’s eyes. She came to me in an instant when I wanted to write a tribute to the brave men and women at Pearl Harbor and told her story to me. I couldn’t type fast enough…

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

Thank you for stopping by! If you like WW2 romance, check out my holiday novella that takes place on Christmas Eve during the cold winter of 1943: “A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.”

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

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.

Winner in the Novella Category in the I Heart Indie contest

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

~Jina

Also, my Civil War medical drama:

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

LOVE ME FOREVER is available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

Love Me Forever is now available in Print for $19.99
Makes a great holiday gift for your favorite Civil War buff!

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

Southern Belle and Spy: Excerpt from LOVE ME FOREVER from Jina Bacarr on Vimeo.

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

LOVE ME FOREVER

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

Pink Hibiscus: An Army nurse’s letter to her sister on December 7, 1941

hibiscus_1_nurse

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

December 7, 1941

7:30 a.m.

Dear Peggy,

I’m bustin’ with news to tell you, little sister. I only have a few minutes before my shift at the hospital starts, so bear with me. I don’t know where to begin. It all happened so fast. I met Jimmy at the Officers’ Club when I first got here last summer and the handsome Army Air Force lieutenant asked me to dance. The band was playing Moonlight Serenade and before I knew it he had his arms around me, holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe.

Then he kissed me.

Oh, it was so romantic. The warm night breeze blowing in off the ocean, the smell of pink hibiscus making me wild with desire, his hand reaching under my long evening gown and sliding up my thigh. Then he picked me up in his arms and carried me down to the beach and we…

7:45 a.m.

Sorry, I got called away by the nurse-in-charge. She was worried about a patient wheezing and coughing. She thought it might be pneumonia. Just a couple of nurses on duty this morning, so she asked me to help her with paperwork. I was disappointed, seeing how I haven’t had much chance to use my nursing skills since I’ve been here. Not much happening. Still, Pearl is the best duty an Army nurse could wish for. We get a few pilots scraped up after a rough landing or with a bad hangover, but it’s mostly sunny days and balmy nights.

I bet you and Mom were all bundled up when you did this year’s Christmas shopping at Wanamaker’s. I love walking down Market Street with all the holiday decorations. The soft, white snow landing on top of the pretzel man’s cart. The hot cocoa with Mom’s fresh whipped cream. I miss you and the family so much, but don’t worry about me, I’m having the best time of my life. I’ve nearly worn out the soles on my new high-heeled pumps dancing every night with Jimmy.

Here’s my news, he…

7:55 a.m.

Something’s happening, Peggy, something awful. Sirens going off, a loud explosion, and everyone’s scrambling. I’ll write more later. I’ve got to get back to my patients. They’re jumping out of bed and yelling for their pants.

We’re under attack.

11:30 p.m.

It’s over. For now. But my job is just beginning. The second wave of the surprise attack lasted until nearly 10 a.m. I haven’t stopped since then and I’d still be racing from one patient to the next if the nurse-in-charge hadn’t insisted I get some rest.

First, I wanted to write down what happened before I grab a few minutes of sleep, then go back on duty. My thoughts are scattered, so bear with me.

By the time you read this, you’ll know the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on a quiet Sunday morning at 7:55 a.m. I was recording a patient’s vitals when a soldier with a broken leg asked me to help him stand up. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked real nervous. Said he heard something that didn’t sound right. Planes flying overhead that weren’t ours. I thought he was joking, then I looked out the big, square hospital window—

Oh, my God, Peggy, I don’t know how to describe what I saw. Planes roaring overhead with red suns emblazoned on them. Loud, ear-splitting explosions. Black plumes of smoke swirling into the sky like a death flower.

It was maddening. Fear choked my throat. My body went numb. Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. I wiped them away with defiance.

Nurses don’t cry.

I let go with a long shudder. I don’t know what came over me. Fear, I guess, but I was okay now. Duty came first. This was what I’d spent years studying for, watching, observing, the sleepless nights working in the emergency room in the big Philadelphia hospital. It all came together for me in that moment.

Thank God.

Within minutes, the wounded came pouring in. Carried in on anything sturdy enough to hold them. The sound of antiaircraft fire ringing in our ears, bombs exploding outside and shaking the walls. I don’t want to shock you, but you and those at home must know what we’re up against in this war. The pain, the horror. Men missing limbs. Bloodied wounds. Ugly burns with exposed flesh. Others in shock. We had no electricity, no elevators to transport the wounded to surgery. Not enough nurses. Supplies running out fast.

But we did it. We saved as many as we could and prayed for those we couldn’t.

I went from one patient to the next, never stopping until—

I saw him. My lieutenant. Carrying a wounded soldier on his back, blood splattered all over his uniform.

“Jimmy, Jimmy!” I yelled out, trying to get his attention. He looked so relieved to see me, it made me tear up. I could see in his eyes he wanted to hold me close to him, never let me go. I wanted to feel his warmth, smell his woodsy, masculine scent. Prove to myself he was here, alive.

After I stabilized the wounded man, Jimmy held me in his arms and pulled off my nurse’s cap, and then ran his fingers through my hair.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he said, his lips brushing my cheek. He told me we lost several battleships and more than a hundred planes, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He was going to get into the air no matter what he had to do. Drive all over the island until he found a P36 gassed up and ready to go.

He cupped my chin and said,  “I’ll be seeing you, babe.”

I smiled up at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

Then he left. I blew him a kiss. I knew what he was thinking. He had his job and I had mine. Whatever words and soft kisses we’d exchanged under the swaying palms would have to wait.

We were at war.

And God willing, we’d be together again soon.

But nothing will erase what happened here on this Sunday morning at Pearl Harbor, the sun bright yellow and hot. Then the sky became dark with enemy planes set on destroying us and our way of life. My heart is so heavy with the pain of what I saw today. The suffering and the dying. It’s my job and the job of every serviceman and woman to stop them before they reach our home shores.

You have a job, too, Peggy. Take care of Mom and Dad, and tell them not to worry about me. I know everyone will do whatever they can so our fighting men can return home safe.

I can’t wait until I see you all again. When this horrible mess is over, we’ll sit under the old apple tree and eat bon bons and I’ll show you the prettiest engagement ring you ever saw. Yes, that’s my surprise. Jimmy asked me to marry him.

Till then, little sister, pray for me. And our boys fighting what some say will be a long, hard battle. But we’ll win. We have to. For the sake of free men and women everywhere.

Love, your big sister,

Kitty

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

I hope you enjoyed reliving the events of December 7, 1941 through Kitty’s eyes. She came to me in an instant when I wanted to write a tribute to the brave men and women at Pearl Harbor and told her story to me. I couldn’t type fast enough…

Thank you for stopping by! If you like WW2 romance, check out my holiday novella that takes place on Christmas Eve during the cold winter of 1943: “A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.”

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.

Winner in the Novella Category in the I Heart Indie contest

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited

~Jina

 

Photo credits:

Pink Hibiscus or Chinese rose flower isolated on a white background

© Littleyaibua | Dreamstime.com

 

Nurse With Tray Of Medicine

© Retro Clipart | Dreamstime.com

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas on My Sexy Saturday #70

LynnSexySaturday_banner

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Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list of wonderful authors you can’t miss!

This week on My Sexy Saturday # 70, in A Soldier’s ASoldiersItalianChristmas_256_384Italian Christmas  we go back to a time of war when Italy was a hotbed of Nazis trying to keep the American Army from reaching Rome…

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.

December 1943
Italy

The ravages of combat have taken a toll on Captain Mack O’Casey, who has lost his faith after seeing the horrors of war as the Nazis fight hard to keep the Allies from reaching Rome. His beliefs are challenged even more when he loses his way and ends up in a mystical place called Monte D’Oro Rose during the cold winter of 1943…and falls in love with the beautiful Sister Angelina.

The young nun has a secret of her own, one she will die trying to protect: the lost Cross of Saint Cecelia. She must find the religious relic first before the brutal Nazi major who will stop at nothing to get it. Even murder. Sister Angelina risks her life to save the cross for the Church, but will she also risk her heart? Falling in love with the handsome American soldier is against the rules, but she can’t deny the stolen moments with him have made her question her vows.

It is Christmas Eve when these two lonely people come together on this holiest of holidays and how faith helps them overcome their greatest fears. A time when the whole world holds its breath as brave men and women fight for freedom.

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

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

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

Here are my 7 Paragraphs. Mack has taken refuge with the beautiful Sister Angelina–she was ready to shoot him in the dark until she realized he was an American GI. She’s asked him to stay for a hot meal…

—————

“Then I insist you both stay.” Sister Angelina put down her weapon, a heavy old Smith and Wesson nickel revolver that Mack guessed belonged to Father Tom.

He watched her prepare the eggs and scrape together weak coffee. He didn’t realize how much he missed a home-cooked meal until now. Or was it because he enjoyed watching her that made it special? He put that thought out of his mind quick. He had no right to feel that way about her and he’d better get used to it. Mack poked around to take his mind off the pretty girl. He noticed potatoes and bread in the coffers.

He said, “I see you do a good business borrowing from the Nazis.”

She smiled. “God helps those who help themselves.”

She had grit all right. Most Italians were starving, resorting to eating horsemeat and peelings they found in the trash. Not here. No wonder Sister Angelina didn’t want visitors. She’d be shot if she were found stealing food. The thought set his teeth on edge.

“Suppose you and I do some exploring first, Sister, then we’ll eat,” Mack said, surprising her. “I want to see what we’re up against with this Nazi major you mentioned. How many men he has in the command post.”

“I understand, Captain,” she said, grinning. “You have what I believe you Americans call a date.

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

What happens when the horrible Nazi major finds out Sister Angelina is stealing food? And that she’s guarding a priceless artifact from the Church? And when the young nun realizes she’s falling in love with the handsome Captain?

Find out in A Soldier’s Italian Christmas — available on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited 

Winner of the I Heart Indie Contest in Novella category!! iheartindiew (2)

Happy Holidays!

~Jina

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

Don’t forget to visit the blogs of some great authors on My Sexy Saturday #70!

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Winner: I Heart Indie Contest: A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

A Soldier’s Italian Christmas won the Novella category in the I Heart Indie contest!

I couldn’t believe it when I opened up my email on Saturday — my novella won! This is a great contest for indie pubbed authors. A chance to showcase your cover and back copy blurb. The results are listed here on the Las Vegas Romance Writers website.

Here’s my back copy cover:

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.

December 1943

Italy

The ravages of combat have taken a toll on Captain Mack O’Casey, who has lost his faith after seeing the horrors of war as the Nazis fight hard to keep the Allies from reaching Rome. His beliefs are challenged even more when he loses his way and ends up in a mystical place called Monte D’Oro Rose during the cold winter of 1943…and falls in love with the beautiful Sister Angelina.

The young nun has a secret of her own, one she will die trying to protect: the lost Cross of Saint Cecelia. She must find the religious relic first before the brutal Nazi major who will stop at nothing to get it. Even murder. Sister Angelina risks her life to save the cross for the Church, but will she also risk her heart? Falling in love with the handsome American soldier is against the rules, but she can’t deny the stolen moments with him have made her question her vows.

It is Christmas Eve when these two lonely people come together on this holiest of holidays and how faith helps them overcome their greatest fears. A time when the whole world holds its breath as brave men and women fight for freedom.

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

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

And here is the cover designed by Romance Book Cover Designs by Ramona. Check out this video excerpt from A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

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

To celebrate winning the Novella category in the I Heart Indie contest, A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is FREE today October 23rd! Grab your copy HERE.

Have a great holiday season!

Best,

Jina

www.jinabacarr.com

www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author

https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr

http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr 

I Heart Indie Contest Finalist!!

The sales pitch.

You either love it or hate it.

For your novel, it’s called the back cover copy. It can be even more difficult to write than the dreaded synopsis when you’re self-pubbing a novel. But you gotta do it.

The tease. The logline. The character descriptions.

Sometimes it seems it takes longer the write the back cover copy than the novel itself (just kidding…).

So you can imagine how excited I was when I found out my back cover copy and beautiful cover from Covers by Ramona for A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is a finalist in the Novella category in the I Heart Indie contest!

Here’s the back copy cover:

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.

December 1943

Italy

The ravages of combat have taken a toll on Captain Mack O’Casey, who has lost his faith after seeing the horrors of war as the Nazis fight hard to keep the Allies from reaching Rome. His beliefs are challenged even more when he loses his way and ends up in a mystical place called Monte D’Oro Rose during the cold winter of 1943…and falls in love with the beautiful Sister Angelina.

The young nun has a secret of her own, one she will die trying to protect: the lost Cross of Saint Cecelia. She must find the religious relic first before the brutal Nazi major who will stop at nothing to get it. Even murder. Sister Angelina risks her life to save the cross for the Church, but will she also risk her heart? Falling in love with the handsome American soldier is against the rules, but she can’t deny the stolen moments with him have made her question her vows.

It is Christmas Eve when these two lonely people come together on this holiest of holidays and how faith helps them overcome their greatest fears. A time when the whole world holds its breath as brave men and women fight for freedom.

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

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

And here is the cover! Check out this video excerpt from A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

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

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

To celebrate being a finalist in the I Heart Indie contest, A Soldier’s Italian Christmas is FREE for August 12, and 13th!! Grab your copy HERE.

Best,

Jina

www.jinabacarr.com

www.facebook.com/JinaBacarr.author

https://twitter.com/JinaBacarr

http://www.pinterest.com/jbacarr 

World War II Art stolen by Nazis: will Capt. O’Casey rescue the beautiful Sister Angelina from the Nazis in time?

In case you’ve missed it, I’ve been posting about the wonderful new film starring George Clooney, Monuments Men, and the story of art stolen by the Nazis during WW2. I’ve posted some excerpts from my WW2 story A Soldier’s Italian Christmas: One Two Three Four Five.

******Spoiler

In Excerpt No. 6, Sister Angelina has the Cross of St. Cecilia hidden in her pocket as the Nazi major threatens her…will her handsome American captain save her in time?

The video is what I call a “living photo” of the hero and heroine. No sound, just their photos arranged in an interesting manner.

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His eyes burned fire, the rage inside him so intense all Mack could think about was sending the major to hell so fast he’d slide all the way down the black hole on his burning ass.

“Drop it, Major, or you’re dead.”

World War II Art stolen by Nazis: will Capt. O’Casey rescue the beautiful Sister Angelina from the Nazis?

The Nazi stiffened, as if he couldn’t believe anyone would dare invade his sanctuary. “I didn’t expect the Fifth Army so soon,” he said, tightening his hold on Angelina’s arm so hard she cried out in pain. Mack wanted to jump him and make him pay for that, but he held back. A fool’s move. The man was inhuman and would strike like a cobra to save his own skin.

“We’re here, Major.” Mack didn’t breathe as the two men sized each other up. “Get used to it.”

“I beg to differ. These hills are filled with my men, nests of machine guns pointed directly at your so-called invasion.”

“Don’t count on it. We outnumber you two to one.”

“You’re a convincing liar, Captain, but I don’t believe you.” He held Angelina tighter. “You came here alone.”

“Which puts us on even ground.”

He raised a brow. “I’m not falling for your tricks, Captain.”

“It’s no trick. Your two guards are in no position to come to your aid.”

The major ground his teeth and dragged back the girl’s head, the barrel of his Luger under her chin. “That presents quite a dilemma, Captain. You kill me, but not before I shoot the beautiful nun. It’s like bluffing at poker. You don’t always win.”

“Why, you bastard—” Mack snapped.

“I see I’ve struck a nerve. This isn’t the first time you two have met.” The major smirked. “Did she share with you the secret of Monte d’Oro Rose in the dark? Then let you steal a kiss?” He pushed harder. “Did she promise you more if you helped her find where the priest hid the treasure?”

“Don’t listen to him, Captain,” Angelina cried out.

Mack didn’t take the bait. He looked at Angelina’s face, her eyes meeting his. She looked down. A signal. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the bulge in her  pocket. The cross was safe.

“Let her go, Major,” he warned, “or I’ll blow your brains out.”

“Not a pleasant thought, Captain. May I suggest we settle this like officers and gentlemen.” He paused. “Unless you’re not a gentleman.”

“I come from Brooklyn, Major. We settle things there with our fists. Put down your gun and we’ll see who’s the better man.”

“What fools you Americans are. You think you can defeat the German Army with your brashness and crude tactics. Our troops are better trained, our generals more organized, and we know the terrain.”

“But we have something you don’t, Major, and it’s a helluva lot more powerful than your storm troopers and tanks.”

He looked smug. “I doubt it.”

“We’re fighting this war because we believe in Mom and apple pie. And yeah, one more thing.”

“What is that?”

“Freedom. To think what we like, go where we want, and pray to our God, no matter what we call Him,” Mack said. “You Nazis have taken that freedom away from the people in every country you invade and they’ll fight like hell to get it back. Your goosestepping soldiers in their hobnail boots don’t stand a chance. In the end, you’ll lose.”

He tightened his grip on Angelina. “It’s you who will lose, Captain.” He shoved the pistol against her skull. “Don’t try anything or she dies.”

==========

Will Mack save his beautiful Angelina? Find out in A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.”

Here’s the trailer:

Also, here’s an extended video excerpt from Chapter One of A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.”

Thank you for coming with me on my journey back to 1943 to Italy, lost art treasures, and forbidden love.

Best,

Jina

World War II Art Stolen by the Nazis: The Cross of St. Cecilia

George Clooney’s fascinating new film, “Monuments Men,” explores the Allied Forces mission to retrieve art masterpieces stolen by the Nazis during World War II.

But what if a sacred relic from a saint was also in danger of falling into Nazi hands?

© Ruzanna Arutyunyan | Dreamstime.com

© Ruzanna Arutyunyan | Dreamstime.com

Here’s the backstory of the Cross of Saint Cecilia from my recent post as it appears in my romance novella, A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

“A strange tale about a sacred cross that protects its wearer from harm in battle. A gift to the Church from a noble crusader grateful to have been spared during the siege of Constantinople. On his deathbed, he gave it to his wife to take to the Vatican in Rome, but she never completed her journey. She sought refuge in the monastery during a storm but she later died. According to the legend, she gave the cross to the abbot for safekeeping, but he wanted the artifact for himself and poisoned her. He hid the relic in a secret place on the hill, but he was later exiled for his black deeds. No one has ever been to find the exact spot where he hid the cross.”

In Excerpt No. 5, Sister Angelina is being interrogated by the Nazi major seeking the cross. He’s commandeered the monastery for his headquarters. She prays the handsome American, Captain Mack O’Casey, will find her…

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*****Spoiler this scene appears later in the novella

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“Where is the Cross of St. Cecilia?”

“I don’t know.” He [the major] pushed his knee between her legs, making her squirm, and then ripped her sleeve, exposing her bare shoulder. She backed away from him, crossing her arms over her breasts. He came up behind her, grabbing her around the waist.

Please, Father in heaven, help me. She flinched when she felt the heavy cross in her pocket hit her thigh.

“I don’t believe you.” The major pulled a Luger from his holster and then pointed the pistol at her temple. She heard an unnerving click when he cocked the hammer. “Tell me where Father Tom hid the cross or you’ll meet your God before you take your next breath.”

* * * * *

By the time Mack saw the tall doors leading into the library, he was in such a heightened state of awareness he was as dangerous as a lethal weapon. Every nerve in his body on alert, every muscle wired, every thought primed for battle. He took long strides, his heavy boots making no sound. He focused solely on his mission, having forfeited the right to any emotional attachment.

Until he heard a woman scream.

Then all hell broke loose. Angelina was in the hands of that madman.

Mack checked his rifle, his ammo, keeping his breathing steady. He took a calming breath and focused on the moment, taking no time to wipe the sweat off his face. He’d only seen the inside of the library through the peephole, which meant he’d have a different perspective of the room once he was inside. Every second counted. He had to sweep the room with his eyes, take down whatever threat awaited him, and find the girl. The situation was fluid, uncontrollable, and he had no backup until Sergeant Duffy got back here to bring up the rear.

Even as he calculated his next move, Mack kept an ear open for the sound of her voice, her scream telling him Angelina was still alive. The idea of that bastard hurting her caused such feverish agitation in his soul he had to rely on his training to get the job done. God knows, his mind was reeling with crazy thoughts that could get them both killed if he made a mistake.

Rifle raised, finger on the trigger, Mack kicked open the library doors.

Holy shit.

The sight that greeted him turned his guts inside out.

His beautiful Angelina was a prisoner of the Nazi. She attempted to hold up her torn bodice, her pale, creamy shoulder exposed, her hair hanging to her waist. Death stared her in the face and yet she refused to cower before the German. It scared the hell out of him.

The major pointed his Luger at her head.

© Gary Blakeley | Dreamstime.com

© Gary Blakeley | Dreamstime.com

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Will Mack save his beautiful Sister Angelina? Check back for Excerpt No. 6 in A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

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Also, here’s an extended video excerpt from Chapter One of A Soldier’s Italian Christmas.” I used beautiful photos from www.Dreamstime.com to put it together with my voiceover and music by Kevin MacLeod www.incompetech.com

Cover Design by Ramona Lockwood www.coversbyramona.blogspot.com http://www.romancenovelcovers.com/

A Nun’s Story and Art Stolen by the Nazis Excerpt 4

Is it only lust for precious art that fuels the Nazi major’s desire to loot the Monastery at Monte D’Oro Rose? Or is it his curiosity about the beautiful nun guarding the treasure? Find out in today’s post Excerpt 4 from my romance novella, A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

© Lekcej | Dreamstime.com

© Lekcej | Dreamstime.com

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It was such a fascinating time when the Allied Forces sought to recover the precious art stolen by the Nazis as we see in George Clooney’s new film “Monuments Men.”

A search of a more intimate nature takes place in the following excerpt from my romance novella, A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

***Spoiler***

This scene takes place at a point in the story when Sister Angelina has found the relic and hidden the Cross of Saint Cecilia in the pocket of her nun’s habit.

Excerpt No. 4:

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“What have you done with the paintings, Major?” she asked again, keeping her voice steady. “Artwork archived by the monks for hundreds of years. Where is it? Berlin?”

The major raised a brow. “I assure you the works will be well cared for in a secure warehouse facility in the Austrian Alps.”

Angelina let out a deep sigh. “So far from home.” Her skin crawled at the thought of her country’s finest art gone forever. She squeezed her eyes shut and saw the gilded framed paintings in her mind’s eye. The richness of reds and oranges so vibrant like the sun warmed them with its glow. Blues deeper than midnight. Greens as shiny as new grass. My God, how could she have not dared to speak up before? “These priceless paintings and statues belong to the Church and the people of Monte d’Oro Rose, not your Reich. Have you no heart, Major?”

“Your opinion of me is rather disturbing, Sister,” he said, his voice so cold she felt the chill return. She’d touched a nerve. “Not all Nazis are brutes.”

“Aren’t you?” She glared at him and saw the fury in his eyes. Gray soulless eyes picking at her flesh.

Without saying a word, the German officer put down the illuminated manuscript and walked over to a large globe standing in the corner. Nearby stood a black lacquer screen with a bird motif. The sphere was weathered by time and countless fingers spinning the ball. He added his own and the world turned round and round.

“I am a Prussian by birth,” said the major, watching the globe blur before his eyes. “My father was an industrialist known for his shrewd business maneuvers, which left no time for his son. My mother cared more for her garden than raising her child. She handed me over to the peculiar upbringing of my governess, an impoverished noblewoman with a taste for sour pickles. Every morning she’d take me outside the gate to see the vegetable man with his horse and cart. Then she made me recite Goethe and grab a fresh pickle for her from the tin bucket on the side of the cart.” He spit on the bare floor, the Oriental rug that once covered the smooth stone gone. “I have a distaste for both pickles and Goethe.”

Her fingers tightened on the hidden cross. “But not for art.”

He nodded. “I studied art history in Vienna, including the works of Michelangelo and Bernini. I also became familiar with the treasures of the Vatican and aspired to teach. But my father insisted I join the Nazi Party. With my facility for languages, I came to the attention of our Fuehrer.” The high ranking officer couldn’t help but gloat. “After I proved myself in the Gestapo, he assigned me to take charge of the art appropriation for his new museum in Linz.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to shoot innocent people and take away their souls by depriving their children of their heritage.” Her cheeks turned pink, her heart pounded, her passion to plead her case so strong she forgot she was speaking to a man who could take her life on a whim. “What more is left for us to give?”

© Laura Dominguez | Dreamstime.com

© Laura Dominguez | Dreamstime.com

The major picked up the manuscript and opened it to a bookmarked page. He read silently, his eyes moving over the page in a precise manner. Avid curiosity in every eye movement.

Finally, he said, “The treasure of Monte d’Oro Rose.”

The cross. Why didn’t I give it to the captain? He’s a good man. I trust him with my life.

“It’s just a legend,” Angelina insisted, barely maintaining her composure. “It doesn’t exist.” She resisted the impulse to ask him what he knew about the cross. That would be far more dangerous.

“Doesn’t it?” He read from the illuminated page, its border shimmering with gold scrolling, “ ‘He who prays to Saint Cecilia shall find the cross delivered to her by the Lord buried deep among the golden blooms.’ ”

The yellow roses.

Father Tom must have found the cross hidden under the trinity of bushes, but how?

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Check back for the final excerpt from A Soldier’s Italian Christmas

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