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ROSSOFUOCO“Fire Red” with ROSE M.J., BACARR JINA, ANDERSEN SUSAN — 3 books in 1 from Harlequin Italy, http://www.eharmony.it/, including my book, Naughty Paris.

My Harlequin Spice time travel about 1889 Paris, “Naughty Paris,” is being re-released in Italy as part of a not-to-be-missed 3-book Special Edition along with novels by M.J. Rose and Susan Andersen.

After being jilted by her fiancé, Autumn Maguire uses her nonrefundable honeymoon tickets to exploreParison her own. Eager to experience the true bohemian lifestyle, she answers an ad for an artist’s model. When she exchanges her clothes for the artist’s lush red cloak, something strange happens…a feeling of intense sensual reawakening overcomes her. Suddenly lightning strikes and through the power of black magic she’s thrust back into…

…the nineteenth century where the scandalous painter Paul Borquet is insisting she become his Titian-haired muse. Between everyone’s strange clothing, the claustrophobic Parisian streets and the overpowering pull of sexual desire, Autumn can’t process…just where the heck is she and how did she get here? And frankly, with Paul’s expert caresses imprinted on her body, does she really care about going back to present day?

Click here to read an excerpt of “Naughty Paris.” (also available as an eBook)

I hope you enjoy my video!

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by Evelyn Q. Darling
Romance Reporter At Large

How well do you know your hero? Is he tall, dark and handsome? Okay, so you don’t want a cookie-cutter hero, but have you really thought about what questions to ask him?

(When you can take your eyes away from his sexy grin among other parts of his anatomy.)

This reporter recently interviewed heroines for a romance gig and got some very interesting answers.

Now, it’s your hero’s turn. Ready, ladies? Start your engines…

Here are my 5 Job Tips for a great romance novel hero interview:

1. Don’t ask him to take off his shirt. Tempting, yes, as you check out his muscular arms, but this is a sexist attitude that will get you nowhere. (But oh the fun you’ll have trying!)

2. Schedule the interview in a locale where you’ll both feel comfortable. Not in a sports bar where he can eyeball the basketball scores and the waitresses with the deep cleavage. Forget tea shops that serve lemon dainties, unless you’re writing a regency and you want to see if he exudes the proper Mr. Darcy-isms.

3. Ask him to show you his…wheels. Yes, I said, wheels. Is he a Harley guy? Jaguar? Or does he drive an old pickup? Does he keep half his “stuff” in his car? Or is he a neatnik? You can tell a lot about a man by his…wheels.

4. What’s his day job? Or if he’s into night work (and what hard-working vampire isn’t?), you’ll want to make sure he’s a good match for your heroine. If she’s a lawyer, a police detective can make her life hectic; if she runs a cake and bake shop, how about interviewing a land developer who wants to tear down her vintage cottage shop? And let’s not forget the city gal who’s just aching to meet up with a real cowboy. Just make sure he can ride…a horse.

5. And finally, don’t ask him if he’s a good kisser. Tell him to show you.

Evelyn is the alter-ego of Jina Bacarr, The Blonde Samurai: “She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

Jina is also the author of The Blonde Geisha ,Cleopatra’s Perfume, Naughty Paris, Tokyo Rendezvous, a Spice Brief, and Spies, Lies & Naked Thighs

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by Evelyn Q. Darling
Romance Reporter At Large

It has come to the attention of this reporter that several of you out there, both romance readers and writers alike, are so involved in your reading and/or writing of romance novels that you may not be aware the bastion of male sweat and tight ends will soon be upon us.

Super Bowl.

Be aware, ladies, this is not to be taken lightly. No amount of cleavage or sexy panting will get your man away from the TV set on Super Bowl Sunday. Trust me, I know.

And if you are a football fan, well, you may know how to play the game, but do you know the top 5 things NOT to do during the game?

This reporter has gone to great lengths to find out.

So before the coin toss on Sunday, let’s get your game face on.

1. This is not the day to have new furniture delivered. Your man wants his lumpy sofa and scratched-up, old coffee table where he can be comfortable and put his feet up and watch the game. His turf, if you will.

2. No flavored sparkling water with teensy lime slices. This is like serving vanilla meringue puffs to a hungry army on the march. Beer is the beverage of choice and plenty of it.

3. Hold the beans and pass the guacamole. This is not the time to try out your extra spicy, three-kinds-of-beans dip. Bathroom breaks are not at the top of his list, even during the commercials. Who wants to miss those?

4. Don’t diss his friends if they show up smelling of beer and cigarettes. It’s a guy thing, believe me. A ritual to see who can smell the worst. Remember the guy in the news recently who didn’t wash his jeans for more than a year? That’s right, keep telling yourself it could be worse.

5. No matter how many potato chip crumbs or pizza toppings fall to the floor or carpet, do not vacuum them up. You will drive him crazy. Not good crazy, bad crazy. He’ll never forgive you if he misses the winning touchdown because of a noisy vacuum. And don’t try vacuuming naked. The only skin he’s interested in during the game is on a football.

One final word from this reporter’s iPad: whether your man pouts or gloats about his team’s performance, make sure you rave about his performance in bed afterward.

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Meet EVELYN Q. DARLING, Romance Reporter at Large, in her first blog today:

In the past, creating a job for a romantic heroine usually meant she was either a governess, a nurse, or in the early twentieth century, a “typewriter,” better known as a secretary.

Take a letter, Miss Jones…

To all writers of romance novels.

Dear Miss, Ms. or Madam:

It has come to this reporter’s attention that several of you have veered away from writing about governesses in dark, gloomy manor houses and pert, red-cheeked nurses and turned to writing about heroines who carry guns, sport black leather and can take a man down in fifty seconds flat.

Really.

What happened to the days when all a heroine had to do to get her man was flutter her black lace fan and bat her soot-caked eyelashes? (Ample cleavage didn’t hurt either.)

It was so much easier when all a writer had to worry about was how many flounces graced her heroine’s gown or the number of hooks on a corset. (A heroine’s age at marriage also determined the size of her waist: if she wed at 18, she aspired that her waist remained at 18 inches.)

And if all else failed, there was always the “smart” heroine who wrote novels, solved mysteries or planted her delicate boots on foreign soil and showed her moxie by becoming a globe-trotting adventuress.

Sigh. Ah, for the good ole days before our heroines decided they wanted equal rights between the sheets. And on the job.

Now to create the modern heroine, a romance writer has to know the difference between a Glock and a Sig Sauer (the latter sounds like a deli sandwich).

Be able to “street speak” in urban fantasies, suck blood without smudging her lipstick in vampire thrillers and shape-shift into an exotic creature with all her parts intact.

So I’m asking all you romance writers to drop me a line and tell me what “dangerous professions” for a heroine you’ve seen in recent novels or in a novel you’re writing.

What’s new for a heroine in the 21st century in the world of “9 to 5” that you haven’t seen or written about before?

I’ll be eagerly awaiting your answers.

Who knows?

Maybe we can start a new trend: Dangerous heroines in tight corsets and red high heels who live in an abandoned subway tunnel and belong to a secret society of lusty Victorian vampires who feed on handsome firefighters.

Then again, maybe not.

 Best regards,

 Evelyn Q. Darling

Romance Reporter At Large

Artwork by Jina Bacarr

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I’ve always loved Halloween and dressing up in a pretty costume. Especially a can-can outfit with a white petticoat and layers of ruffles and black stockings. Imagine if you could go to Paris and dance the can-can at the famous Moulin Rouge. 

You can…with the help of a little black magic. 

That’s what happens to my heroine, Autumn Maguire, in “Naughty Paris” when she’s jilted at the altar and uses her pre-paid honeymoon tickets to go to Paris. She’s totally turned on when she sees a full-size painting of a sexy, lost Impressionist named Paul Borquet in a studio in the Marais District…

Here is an audio/video podcast of two short scenes from “Naughty Paris” — I’ve censored some of the language for the audio version; you can read the uncensored version below.

From “Naughty Paris:”

Something creepy is going on here. Oodles of perspiration bubble between my breasts, wiggle down my ribcage, then drip down my thighs as I pull and tug on the black velvet drape. I can’t thrash loose. My breath becomes sharper. The back of my neck is damp. Finally, I rip the heavy fabric off my face and–

–I see him. Staring at me with his eyes. Dark blue eyes that intrigue me.

A life-size painting of a man over six feet tall.

I grin, relaxing the tenseness in my face. So that’s what the drape was hiding. A super stud. Arms crossed, feet spread apart, and wearing tighter than tight pants that outline his impressive cock and he’s–

Laughing?

Creepy bumps pop up on my bare arms. The more I think about what I heard, the more I believe I must have imagined it. Hearing the man’s sexy laughter stirred carnal desire so dormant in my female psyche that I can’t tell what’s real or in my head. Well, look at him, will ya. He’s a painting, dammit! Touch him, no, not there. There. On his hand. Cold. See? He’s not human, so get off this goth kick and get the hell outta here. Oh, I forgot. I can’t. I’m naked.

So, girlfriend? He can’t see you.

I smile. Yeah.

So why not have a little fun and flirt with him?

==========

Things really heat up when Autumn finds an old statue of the Egyptian god Min (the god of fertility) and wishes she could meet Paul Borquet as lightning strikes her through the skylight window overhead…

I don’t close my eyes, but continue staring at Paul Borquet, wishing I could feel his arms around me, his lips kissing me, his body pressed against mine.

“You wouldn’t stand a chance if I were young and beautiful,” I whisper, shifting my weight from side to side. The wooden platform bends, squeaking under my wet bare feet. Lightning flashes overhead through the skylight, stinging my eyes like a thousand watt lightbulb slashing through the air. “I’d make you fall in love with me–”

I cry out when electricity jolts the bronze sculpture I’m holding between my breasts, sending a hot current through me and vibrating through my brain, raising the hair on my arms, and making my eyeballs bulge out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I hear the old artist calling out that he’s going for help, but I can’t answer, can’t focus. All the muscles in my body tighten and I feel myself lifted up off my feet and zooming through space, as if something is flinging me skyward. An unexplained chill settles in me as if I’m in a swirling vortex as electricity flashes over my skin, racing in and out of my bod faster than I can blink.

What’s happening to me?

This isn’t my normal world. I want things dry and safe. Not wild and crazy. The electricity dances a choreography of darkness and light all over me, tracing the path of my sweat. I’m breathless and more than a little bewildered. Mix in bewitched and my trip to Paris is turning into the Rocky Horror Picture Show with French subtitles. This can’t be happening!

Thunder claps in my ears with a loud boom then–

–the lights go out.

Darkness. The humid air suddenly reeks of a strong musky scent. Male.

Coming closer…closer…yes…I hear that sexy laughter again as someone blows hot air into my ear, making me shiver. I twist my fingers on the statue until they burn, then my nipples harden into pointy peaks as if someone pinched them. Becoming aroused again, I let out a sigh when someone squeezes my breast and sucks on it, then moans. Who? Where is he? I can’t open my eyes, swallow or talk, or move my legs or hands, touch him, anything.

I can’t do more than make a desperate breathing sound as I lie–

Where?

Where am I?

========= 

Find out what happened to Autumn Maguire in “Naughty Paris” available from Harlequin Spice Books in both print and as an e-book.

Happy Halloween!

 Jina

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Cleopatra's Perfume by Jina Bacarr

 

 “The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe” is an audio/podcast series Prequel to my Spice novel, Cleopatra’s Perfume.

What I call a “story vid.”

Before Lady Eve Marlowe married a member of the British peerage, she was a cabaret dancer in Berlin in the late 1920s during the wild days of the Weimar Republic.

In Episode 1, Lady Eve was about to get paddled when she met a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish.

Click here to listen to Episode 1 audio podcast 

In Episode 2, Lady Eve received a paddling from a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish, but in her mind she pretended it was the sexy man in the black cloak and Fedora wielding the paddle.

(Click here to listen to Episode 2 audio podcast.)

This week Eve learns more about the mysterious man in the black Fedora and struggles with her desire to learn more about the act of submission…

Episode 3: Eve is lured into a secret love cult.

 Written, produced and hosted by Jina Bacarr. Music: “Paris” Composer/ publisher: Dan Graham, PRS, Shockwave. Visit http://www.jinabacarr.com

As a reminder, The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe contains adult subject matter and is intended for readers 18+ only.

Coming up tomorrow, Friday, October 29th: Go to “NAUGHTY PARIS” this Halloween. A special holiday story vid!



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Last week Lady Eve was about to get paddled when she met a monocled gentleman with a secret fetish.

This week Eve gets her paddling…

(Click here to listen to Episode 1 audio podcast.)

 “The Berlin Sex Diary of Lady Eve Marlowe” is an audio podcast series Prequel to my Spice novel, Cleopatra’s Perfume.

Before Lady Eve Marlowe married a member of the British peerage, she was a cabaret dancer in Berlin in the late 1920s during the wild days of the Weimar Republic.

 Episode 2: Eve discovers the sublime delights of paddling 

  

Written, produced and hosted by Jina Bacarr. Music: “Paris” Composer/ publisher: Dan Graham, PRS, Shockwave. Visit http://www.jinabacarr.com

 

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