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Titanic Tuesdays: Titanic and Gamblers — Meet Captain Lord James ‘Buck’ Blackthorn

meet the handsome lord gentleman gambler who saved Ava aboard the Titanic

Titanic and Gamblers

When the Titanic hit the iceberg on April 14, 1912 at 11:40 p.m., a gentleman in the second class smoking room joked about getting ice from the berg for his drink.

Other gents barely noticed when the ship struck the iceberg.

They were too busy playing cards.

According to reports from survivors, several gentlemen went down with the ship playing their last hand. Whether or not it’s true, what is true is that gambling was a popular pastime during the maiden voyage of the Titanic.

So popular that the chief steward relaxed the White Star Line rule of ‘no gambling on Sundays’.

Gambling on board, however, didn’t come without its dangers.

And I don’t mean a losing hand.

Boatmen’ or professional gamblers were a notorious group of cardsharps who traveled the North Atlantic route relieving wealthy male passengers of their ready cash (women were not allowed in the smoking room).

It was such a problem that a notice was posted in the first class Smoke Room warning passengers about ‘Games of Chance’ and the likelihood of professional gamblers looking for easy pickings at high-stakes card game.

No one paid any attention, including the hero of my story, Captain Lord James ‘Buck’ Blackthorn.

We first meet his lordship after the ship leaves Cherbourg, France on April 10th after picking up passengers and mail—

If there was one thing that made Captain Lord James ‘Buck’ Blackthorn smile more than holding a pretty woman in his arms, it was a winning hand at cards.

To his dismay, at the moment he had neither.

‘I’ll raise you, gentlemen,’ Buck said, stretching his long legs under the green topped playing table. He didn’t relish playing against boatmen, professional gamblers who followed the sea, but he was in desperate need of funds thanks to a voluptuous blonde in Mayfair.

Smoking a cigarette out of an amber holder, Lady Irene Pennington had sought his protection, appealing to his chivalrous nature, though he had no doubt her plea was an act. Still, the gilded lily with the seductive smile made a man believe he was a king.

And not the second son of a duke without home or hearth to offer her.

Find out what Captain Lord Blackthorn can offer our Irish heroine, Ava O’Reilly, when he rescues her aboard the Titanic… pub day March 17th.


Next time on Titanic Tuesdays:  How I found Ava O’Reilly’s Irish voice in me 

THE RUNAWAY GIRL, is on schedule for a March 17 pub date.

Two women holdo the keys to his heart. Only one will survive that fateful night…

When Ava O’Reilly is wrongly accused of stealing from her employer, she has no option but to flee Ireland. The law is after her, and she has only one chance at escape – the Titanic.

Aboard the ship of dreams, she runs straight into the arms of Captain ‘Buck’ Blackthorn, a dashing gentleman gambler who promises to be her protector. He is intrigued by her Irish beauty and manages to disguise her as the maid of his good friend, the lovely Countess of Marbury. Little does he realise, that the Countess is also in love with him.

As the fateful night approaches, tragedy strikes further when Ava is separated from Buck, and must make a daring choice that will change her life forever…

A sweeping historical romance set aboard the Titanic, from the author of Christmas Once Again.

Praise for Jina Bacarr:

‘A delightful holiday romance that has all the charm of a classic Christmas movie. Christmas Once Again is perfect for anyone who loves a holiday romance brimming with mistletoe, hope, and what ifs.’ Andie Newton, author of The Girl I Left Behind

‘A breathtaking holiday romance that is sure to stay with you long after reading’

‘A mesmerizing holiday romance that is sure to sweep you off your feet and take you away to another place, another time.’

‘A fabulous book you won’t want to miss’

THE RUNAWAY GIRL is now up for pre-order:


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My Sexy Saturday: The Blonde Samurai

MY SEXY SATURDAY: Check out the sexy snippets from fabulous authors HERE!! 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs.

Week 15 of this phenomenal blogging group. It gets better each week. Be sure to check out the fab authors and their sexy snippets HERE.

We’ve gone to a love hotel and talked about geisha. This week you’ll meet Shintaro, a The Blonde Samurai_noble samurai lord, a man with the force of an angry god who captures the heart of Lady Carlton, my heroine in The Blonde Samurai. The story takes place in 1873 when Westerners came to Japan to build the railroad. Lady Carlton arrives with her abusive husband, a man who mistreats her and married her for her money and connections. She’s an American heiress, strong-willed, and has a fiery Irish temper.

In this scene, Lady Carlton has arrived at the Imperial Palace to have tea with the Empress when Shintaro races through the great gate leading to the pavilion. The lacquered scabbard of his long sword pokes her bustle when he brushes by her, the aroused, demanding look in his dark, forbidding eyes alerting anyone who gets in his way to beware, that he plies his trade as samurai somewhere between good and evil.


“Who do you think you are?” I yelled at the man, gathering up my skirts and facing him, chin up, shoulders back with all the fire of a martyred saint in me. “Not looking where you’re going, like a chicken hawk in search of his prey.”

He grunted loudly, his forehead beaded with sweat, his hand on his sword, but it remained sheathed, the startled look in his eyes so gripping I had no time to pull back, react. I’ve no doubt in a different time, different place, he would have drawn his sword and I’d have lost my head, since a bared blade claimed the right to draw blood. He yelled words in the native language not found in my guidebook nor did I care. I stared at him openly, my anger turning into something I dared not put into words then but I shall now. Desire, heat. A conscious burn in my pussy as I focused all my energy on him and all my senses—ears, eyes, smell, touch—became inflamed like the bold red of a setting sun as I yearned to show him an independence far beyond what the females he took to his futon exhibited.

I wanted him to touch me, rip my Paris silk trappings from my body with the tip of his blade until I stood naked before him, quivering with need for him…Instead, this giant of a man breathed heavily, his eyes never leaving mine, holding back something I didn’t understand then, a pain he didn’t share with me. Mr. Fawkes [her interpreter] did his best to temper the situation, wiping his forehead with a tissue and panting as he struggled to catch up to me, the long walk up to the gate difficult for him, bowing and calling out in the native tongue when he was but a few feet from this bellowing samurai.

The samurai grunted again then barely nodded, his lack of a low bow no doubt indicating his superior status to me, a woman. I mimicked his gesture, making his eyes spew fire at me then turned my back on him. Not a wise move. I started through the gate, shaken by this encounter with the barbarian warrior yet also thrilled by the majesty of his manly presence. The sheer sexuality of his stance, the intensity of his stare stripped me naked with that stare. Tremors of a delicious nature I’d never experienced ran through me, imagining as I did what he would see, taste, if I bared myself to him and he dared to brush his mouth against my pussy lips, the moist pink folds pouting at the intrusion but wanting more—

I stopped, a sharp pull making me lunge backward and nearly lose my balance. I dropped my parasol and it clattered down on the hard ground behind me. I turned to see this man I would know as Shintaro laughing, his hand firmly grabbing the end of my train. He held on to it so tight I couldn’t move. Now I was his prey firmly caught in his snare. I pulled and pulled but my train wouldn’t budge, though I could hear the silk ripping.

“Release me at once,” I yelled, hands on my hips, then I yelled an Irish expletive that made Mr. Fawkes sputter something in Japanese before I could continue my tirade, fanning himself with his hat and praying under his breath. The samurai laughed, grinning as if he enjoyed watching me helpless, in his power. I couldn’t allow him to get away with his game, though I couldn’t deny a humming in me that made me feel connected to him in a strange way in spite of him making a fool out of me.

Using all my strength, I pulled harder to show him I wouldn’t give in to him, but it was he who let go, as if giving me permission to proceed on my mission. Picking up my parasol, I raced through the black wooden gate with Mr. Fawkes close behind, the sound of the samurai’s raucous laughter following me, taunting me. How dare he. It was in that moment war was declared between us.



The Blonde Samurai is available on Amazon Kindle, Amazon, B&N and e-tailers everywhere


Coming in October 2013 from Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin:

NAKED SUSHI is available for pre-order on Amazon!

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