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Archive for December, 2009

New Year’s Eve is all about champagne and sparkle. And you and your man. Whether you’re celebrating in a fancy restaurant in red sequins and high heels or at home in comfy sweats and slippers, in this special New Year’s post, we’ll talk about finding your inner Geisha with tips on how to use it to turn on your man tonight and every night…

Geisha. Seductive, mystical creatures wrapped in yards and yards of tight silk, their voices soft and charming, their elegant manners quiet and reserved, yet their mystical allure can break a man’s heart.

And turn him on.

How do they do it?

Geisha are skilled in the arts and that includes the art of understanding men. These divine seductresses are not purveyors of the sex trade, but their job of entertaining men includes arousing his most sensual erogenous zone: his brain.

In my new Spice novel, “The Blonde Samurai,” the heroine discovers the allure of the geisha in the pleasure quarters: “Two maids removed his clothes while the courtesan changed her kimono and called for a young geisha to play the samisen. Simouyé. I recall her with great clarity because of her sophistication for one so young, her back straight, her bearing elegant and refined. Shintaro smiled at her and a twinge of jealousy coursed through me as if he knew her intimately…” 

Here are my 5 Tips to finding your inner geisha to turn on your man:

1.) The nape of the geisha’s neck painted white with two serpent’s tongues left unpainted hints at her genitalia, arousing a man. Wear a push-up bra with cut-outs under a tight-fitting sweater to turn him on.

2.) The Japanese love hot baths, including the geisha. Make a soapland paradise for your man. Grab your jasmine-scented soap then do a “lather dance” for him in the shower, soaping him up then using your body as the washcloth until he’s ready for action.

3.) Geisha know how important scent is to creating a mood. Her fragrance is as personal as the stroke of her brush doing calligraphy. Don’t try a myriad of different perfumes with your man. Find the most provocative one or two, make them your only perfumes, and you, or at least the memory of you, will linger in his mind forever.

4.) Geisha are known for their witty, sexy repartee. Give your man an earful as well as an eyeful with playful phone sex. Talk sexy to him on your cell phones while he watches you and tells you what he wants you to do next.

5.) A pretty geisha opens a wicker basket containing steaming hot washcloths, her dark eyes misty with dewy droplets. Smiling, she serves her guest chilled saké then offers him a hot washcloth, oshibori, to soothe away his daily travails. Relax your man with a hot cloth and his favorite chilled brew after a hard day at the office. 

Don’t be shy about discovering your Inner Geisha. Your man will love you for it.

Happy New Year!! And have a great 2010!! 

Best,
Jina     

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.” 

 

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"Portrait of a Lady"

by Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of The Blonde Samurai”

I find great cheer, dear lady reader, in your acceptance of my journal and I shall strive to keep my pen occupied during these crisp winter days with stories to amuse you since ’tis not the Season to journey to London for parties and balls.

Except for New Year’s Eve. 

A grand time for dalliances and flirtations for the aristocratic ladies of the upper class, wearing gowns fashioned with yards and yards of silk and velvet and plunging necklines which no doubt invite rebuke from the Queen herself. 

I was not born to such elegance and as a child I oft dreamed of being an enchanted princess.  So on this New Year’s Eve I shall tell you a story about another young girl who also pined to be accepted for who she was and not what she was.

A house maid. 

Her name was Clarice.  A cheeky girl with a gift of a gab nearly as grand as my own, a spritely lass who made her way from Ireland to the vast beauty of the Northern coast of England with other laborers from the land o’green seeking work in the fine houses.

She found employment as a house maid in Adair Castle run with an iron hand by the Duchess of Darlingsmore.  A feisty old termagant who believed that even the dust settling upon her gilt furniture should possess a pedigree.

Clarice did her duties as a girl should, but she had the bad habit of observing too much about the goings-on of Her Grace and giving them life in her thick Irish brogue.

That did not sit well with the duchess, who banished her to the kitchen.  That was her first mistake.  Her second breach was retiring to her rooms and taking a sleeping draught.  She was snoozing peacefully and not available to greet her handsome grandson, Lord Edmond, the son of her second son but undeniably her favorite, when he arrived home from London.  Tired and very hungry.

He went straight to the kitchen for sustenance. 

“And who might you be, my pretty one?” he asked Clarice, hard at work getting ready for the festive time fast approaching, this being early December.  The first snow had fallen, lighting up the dark moors surrounding the castle with a misty silver glow.  As if the fae had shaken sparkling fairie dust from their wings in a fit of mischief.   

“Me name’s Clarice, sir,” she said, curtsying in that way of hers that made her young bosom shake with what the duchess surely would have termed a vulgar movement. 

But not to Lord Edmond.

With a grand smile that delighted the young girl’s fancy, he grabbed a sprig of mistletoe from the holiday box of fresh ferns and held it up over Clarice’s fiery head, her hair the color of ripe red berries.

Then he kissed her.

Hard.  On the mouth.  A sweetness wet her pantaloons, her sex contracting with delight as he grabbed her around the waist then squeezed her breasts.  They played this naughty game for a week with Lord Edmond bursting into the kitchen each morn and kissing her and lifting up her plain petticoats, each day his hand moving up her thigh, a bit closer to her sex than the day before, until…

Click here to continue reading “A Naughty Fair Lady for New Year’s Eve” on my eHarlequin blog A Naughty Victorian Lady Tells all…

Best,
Jina     

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.” 

 

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The Blonde Samurai by Jina Bacarr

by Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of “The Blonde Samurai

“I have great admiration for Mr. Dickens’ Christmas story about the incorrigible Mr. Scrooge, but in this posting I shall tell you about the exploits of another gentleman who deigned to meet up with three affable ghosts on one naughty Christmas Eve years ago.

“I shall call him “Sir Harry” to keep his identity secret since he is a prominent member of the British Parliament, a still handsome man with the wisdom of his years lighting up his silver-gray eyes.  A good fellow he is, and one you would recognize if saw him at a Mayfair soiree.

“But I’ve heard heated whispers that he wasn’t always such a well-respected gentleman…”

Continue reading A Naughty Christmas Carol on my “A Naughty Victorian Lady tells all…”  blog at eHarlequin.com.

Best,
Jina

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

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"The Christmas Piano" by Jina Bacarr

I love the Holiday Season.  No matter what has been happening throughout the year, you can’t help but take a moment to catch your breath and take in the joy of the season all around you…

Shiny silver and gold decorations, sleigh bells ringing on cell phones, Christmas carols blasting at the mall, yummy sugar cookies baking in the oven and–

The spicy smell of pine wafting from a Christmas Tree.  Except at my house.  I have mistletoe hanging in the hallway (what romance writer doesn’t?) and a fresh garland wreath gracing the front door…

But you see, well, my Christmas Tree is different. 

It’s a piano.

Continue reading about my Christmas Piano Tree at NAUGHTY AUTHOR CHICKS.

Best,
Jina     

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.” 

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HOLIDAY VIDEO:

Here is my Christmas Piano Tree for 2009 with The Blonde Samurai as my theme:

Best,
Jina     

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

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"The Blonde Samurai"

 

by Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of The Blonde Samurai”  

I imagine you are a sensible young British noblewoman in this year of 1876, going about the exhausting travails of getting ready for Christmas Eve–  

You must make certain Cook has prepared the goose all plump and tender, and don’t forget to taste the spicy plum pudding and enjoy a glass of claret while you do so.  Then you’re off to your dressmaker on Bond Street to implore her to cut the neckline of your red velvet holiday gown lower to show off more décolletage while you–  

Wish Santa would stuff your Christmas stocking with a naughty story…  

Did I hear you gasp? Reach for your box of smelling powders? You don’t have to pretend with me that you haven’t wished for a delicious read while you were being fitted for your new crimson satin corset, the corsetiere pulling your stays so tight you nearly fainted.  

Why shouldn’t you have a naughty story to entertain you when his lordship whiles away the afternoon at his club or bets on the races at Ascot? Turnabout is fair play since English gentlemen have their pick of erotic magazines to choose from, such as The Boudoir and Exquisite. Saucy reads for a guinea each.  

And you, poor dear, are still reading that dreadful thing your mother-in-law gave you for a wedding present: The Wives of England; Their Relative Duties, Domestic Influence and Social Obligations.

No more. I shall alleviate your longing with an excerpt from my upcoming memoir written as Lady Carlton (I’m Irish-American born, though I pray you shan’t hold that against me). It’s called “The Blonde Samurai“–yes, I know it’s considered quite scandalous, but I assure you I did fall in love with a tall, handsome samurai, one of the most mysterious, elusive and enigmatic men in all Japan. I’ve penned quite an erotic tale about my adventure, including a naughty story in my memoir about an impetuous lass called Molly Pearlbottom.  

As I wrote in The Blonde Samurai:  

“So, in accordance with the memory of what I read on that stormy afternoon in Lord Penmore’s library with the steady sound of rain beating on the roof and moisture seeping between my thighs, and what I’ve since learned about the delicate art of bondage from a true master, I will re-create a chapter in the life of Molly Pearlbottom.  

“The licentious goings-on still make me sigh…  

“Molly Pearlbottom, daughter of the town vicar, had one aspiration in her young life: to be flogged by the dashing Lord of Malworth Hall. He was taller than any man she’d ever seen, and his world was one of aristocrats and power, strappings and aggression, strength and domination. Every time she walked by the great manor house, she daydreamed about being bound and nude before his approving eye, then wrote about it in her curly handwriting in her copybook.  

All the other girls in the village had received their share of whippings and spankings by the roguish lord, who dutifully followed the family tradition of all the lairds before him. Every third Wednesday of the month, precisely at noon, he chose a willing recipient of his silver-handled, blue riding crop from all the girls who lined up under the great oak tree on top of the hill. Dropping their drawers and turning their bare backsides toward him, they all wondered, Who would be the lucky lass today? Her ivory-smooth bottom smarting from delicate pink welts rising up on her skin like fresh blossoms, her flesh quivering with delight, her squeals and whimpers signaling a secret code of pleasure?  

“Not Molly. Her father kept her so busy on Wednesday afternoons washing down the rectory with soap, a brush and a pail of water, she never had the chance to find out. Fervent, irrational, her father allowed her no leeway, overwhelming her with chores. She had no opportunity to assuage her hunger for whippings and the pursuit of her secret pleasure.  

“Until today..”  

Find out if Molly gets her wish in “The Misadventures of Molly Pearlbottom,” a story within a story in The Blonde Samurai.

 

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The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”  

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Cleopatra's Perfume by Jina Bacarr

Exciting news!!!

My 2009 Harlequin SPICE novel, CLEOPATRA’S PERFUME, is a nominee for the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award in EROTICA FICTION!!

This is a fantastic honor and a very special one.  Cleopatra’s Perfume is a tribute to the brave men and women who fought against the Nazis during World War II. 

It’s also the story of a woman who discovers a magical perfume that changes her life forever…

Best,

Jina     

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February 2010: meet The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

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