Join me on a (virtual) trip to some of the most romantic locations around the world and find your next favorite romance book at the same time.
Today I’m welcoming author Diana Rubino
A self-confessed history nut, her favorite eras being Medieval and Renaissance England, and all American history. She’s written several novels set in England and the U.S., two time travel romances, a vampire romance, and an urban fantasy, FAKIN’ IT which received a Top Pick award from Romantic Times. She’s a longtime member of Romance Writers of America and the Richard III Society. In her spare time, she bicycles, golfs, plays piano and devours books of any genre.
BLURBS for THE NEW YORK SAGA
Poverty, Prejudice and Murder Won’t Stand in the Way of True Love
The New York Saga spans three generations of the McGlory family, starting in 1894 amidst the poverty and crime on New York’s Lower East Side, through the wild, boozy years of Prohibition, and ending in 1963 as the country mourned President Kennedy’s assassination.
In Book One, FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET, it’s 1894 on New York’s Lower East Side. Irish cop Tom McGlory and Italian immigrant Vita Caputo fall in love despite their different upbringings. While Tom works undercover to help Ted Roosevelt purge police corruption, Vita’s father arranges a marriage between her and a man she despises. When Tom’s cousin is murdered, Vita’s father and brother languish in jail, charged with the crime. Can Vita and Tom’s love survive poverty, hatred, and corruption?
In Book Two, BOOTLEG BROADWAY, it’s 1932. Prohibition rages, the Depression ravages, and Billy McGlory comes of age whether he wants to or not. Musical and adventurous, Billy dreams of having his own ritzy supper club and big band. On the eve of his marriage to the pregnant Prudence, the shifty “businessman” Rosario Ingovito offers him all that and more: fame, fortune, his own Broadway musical. Can anything go wrong for Billy? Only when he gets in way over his head does he stop to wonder how his business partner really makes his millions, but by then it’s far too late…
THE END OF CAMELOT begins on the day Camelot truly ended—November 22, 1963. The assassination of a president devastates America. But a phone call brings even more tragic news to Vikki Ward—her TV reporter husband was found dead in his Dallas hotel room that morning.
Finding his notes, Vikki realizes her husband was embroiled in the plot to kill JFK—but his mission was to prevent it. When the Dallas police rule his death accidental, Vikki sets out to find out who was behind the murders of JFK and her husband.
Vikki falls in love with Aldobrandi Po, the bodyguard her godfather hired to protect her. But he’s engaged to be married, and she’s still mourning her husband. Can they find happiness in the wake of all this tragedy?
Available for purchase from Amazon.
EXCERPT from FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET:
As Vita gathered her soap and towel, Madame Branchard tapped on her door. “You have a gentleman caller, Vita. A policeman.”
“Tom?” His name lingered on her lips as she repeated it. She dropped her things and crossed the room.
“No, hon. Another policeman. Theodore something.”
No. There can’t be anything wrong. “Thanks,” she whispered, descending the steps, gripping the banister to support her wobbly legs. Stay calm! she warned herself. But of course it was no use; staying calm just wasn’t her nature.
“Theodore something” stood before the closed parlor door. He’s a policeman? Tall and hefty, a bold pink shirt peeking out of a buttoned waistcoat and fitted jacket, he looked way out of place against the dainty patterned wallpaper.
He removed his hat. “Miss Caputo.” He strained to keep his voice soft as he held out a piece of paper. “I’m police commissioner Theodore Roosevelt.”
“Yes?” Her voice shook.
“I have a summons for you.” He held it out to her. But she stood rooted to that spot.
He stepped closer and she took it from him, unfolding it with icy fingers. Why would she be served with a summons? Was someone arresting her now for something she didn’t do?
A shot of anger tore through her at this system, at everything she wanted to change. She flipped it open and saw the word SUMMONS in fancy script at the top. Her eyes widened with each sentence as she read. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
I hereby order Miss Vita Caputo to enter into holy matrimony with Mr. Thomas McGlory immediately following service of this summons.
EXCERPT from BOOTLEG BROADWAY:
(my favorite passage, which made my aunt cringe)
Pru had kept closemouthed all day about what she was giving him for his birthday. He badgered and hounded her, but she wouldn’t give in.
As Ma began divvying up the rum cake, the doorbell rang, and Da came back with a long box. “This thing’s heavy. What’s in here, Pru? Billy’s tombstone?”
Billy cut the ribbon with the cake knife and slid the lid off. Wads of tissue paper filled the box. As he removed the last layer of covering and revealed what was inside, they all gasped—a sculpture of a naked man, in all his masculine glory—and fully aroused. He had one hand on his hip and one foot upon a pedestal on which was inscribed in bold letters, “BILLY.”
“Oh, crap.” His face turned red hot.
EXCERPT from THE END OF CAMELOT:
Billy came down the stairs for a nightcap and glanced into the living room. He noticed the glow in the fireplace, Vikki’s eyeglasses and the anisette bottle on the table. The couch faced the other way, but nobody was sitting on it. “Where’d they go?” Then he realized they hadn’t gone anywhere—and they were on the couch, but not sitting. Before he got out of their way, he placed a long-playing record on the phonograph. Jackie Gleason’s “For Lovers Only.”
#RomanticTravel according to Diana
I believe the most romantic spot on earth is Venice, Italy. When you get off the train, walk through the station, and open the doors, it’s like stepping into a fairy tale. The streets are all canals, and ornate ancient bridges span the canals, including the famous Bridge of Sighs, where prisoners gazed upon the city for the last time on their way to be locked up. On our last trip to Venice, I planned the trip to coincide with the full moon. When darkness fell, my husband and I had dinner and walked around. No moon yet. We stopped at a café and had gelato and cappuccino. No moon yet. We crossed a bridge and strolled some more. Still no moon. Finally, at 11:30, it rose, glowing and sending shimmering moonbeams over the canals. So I hadn’t figured what time that full moon was supposed to appear!
All about Venice: