Tag Archives: Bootleg Broadway

The New York Saga by @DianaLRubino + Fall #RomanticTravel: Venice

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Author Diana Rubino is here today with all the info about her digital boxed set, The New York Saga, plus a Fall #RomanticTravel suggestion: Venice, Italy.

New York Saga coverTHE NEW YORK SAGA by Diana Rubino

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?

Purchase THE NEW YORK SAGA from Amazon Kindle or The Wild Rose Press.

An 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.

About Diana

I’m a self-confessed history nut, my favorite eras being Medieval and Renaissance England, and all American history. I’ve 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. I’m a longtime member of Romance Writers of America and the Richard III Society. In my spare time, I bicycle, golf, play my piano and devour books of any genre.

My #RomanticIdea – a romantic place to visit

VeniceI 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!

Visit me at www.dianarubino.com, www.DianaRubinoAuthor.blogspot.com, https://www.facebook.com/DianaRubinoAuthor, and on Twitter @DianaLRubino.

More Bootleg Broadway by @DianaLRubino #rockingsummerromance

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Today I’m sharing another excerpt from Bootleg Broadway by Diana Rubino, a Rocking Summer Romance. I remember my relativess talking about the Great Depression, and I remember seeing some of the wonderful cars from that period, like the one in the picture. Detroit made great classic cars in those days–big and powerful and beautifully designed. Tell us more, Diana.

classic car

Classic car

This was the first book I ever wrote where I created the characters first, with no storyline whatsoever. All I knew was that it was during Prohibition, and I wanted to get the main character, Billy McGlory, into one mess after another.

Greyhound hood ornament

1935 Greyhound hood ornament via bigstockphoto.com lincense.

Here’s a prime example of that, in this excerpt:

Heading south on Madison Avenue, I heard the siren. I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw the unmistakable Greyhound radiator ornament of the Lincoln behind me. Cop car. All the gangsters drove Lincolns, which had a top speed of 80, so the cops had to get Lincolns to keep up with them. I tried to get the hell out of his way—he must’ve been going to a robbery or a diner or something. I pulled over, and he pulled up next to me. Oh, shit. It was me he was after.

I rolled down the window and asked sweetly, “Yes, sir, what can I do for you, sir?”

“License and registration please.”

“Uh—what’s wrong, officer? Did I commit a traffic violation?” As the son of the ex-Chief of Police, I should have been real comfortable around cops, but to tell the truth, they scared the hell out of me. The cops my father knew weren’t the crooked ones. They were the straightassed ones, just like him, who fought Tammany and made a career out of busting crooks. They didn’t have a price, like the rest of them. Hardnosed bastards, some were frustrated politicians and not smart enough to get into law school, so they enforced the laws from behind their badges. Hell, I was all for law and order, but these guys sometimes took it too far. “Your back license plate is missing.”

Relief drained me. “Oh, drat. It must’ve got stolen. You know this city—just crawlin’ with thieves.”

“License and registration, please,” he repeated, in what passed for a more menacing cop voice. Now he assumed his cop stance, pudgy fists on meaty hips, waiting while I dug through the glove compartment, tossing aside all the crumpled up sheet music and junk crammed in there. Oh, that’s where my emergency pack of cigarettes was, and that old box of prophylactics! But damned if I couldn’t find the registration.

“Uh—I can’t find it, but it’s my car, honest. I mean, it was a gift to me, but it’s been paid for, it’s not stolen or anything. I can probably find it in my penthouse. You wanna follow me there? It’s only two blocks aw—”

“Step out of the car, please.”

Uh-oh. I felt my bowels burning. I had two briefcases bulging with two shitloads of money in the back seat.

He poked his head into the car. “What’s in the briefcases?”

“Uh—I dunno. I’m doing an errand for somebody.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you dunno. Step aside, please.”

“Hey, you got a search warrant?” I demanded.

But demanding a search warrant from a New York City cop was like demanding a shot of Scotch from Satan in the middle of Hell.

I didn’t want to look. I turned my head and flattened my palms on the roof of the car, like I was being searched. I heard the clicks as he sprang the latches and his not-so-surprised “mm-hmmm” as he checked out the contents.

“Who you doing this errand for, sonny boy?”

What was with the “sonny boy”? He wasn’t much older than me. I knew he just wanted to put me down. Screw that. I’ve been called a lot worse by much better cops than him. He obviously didn’t know who I was. “Uh—I’d better get a lawyer or something.”

“You’d better come with me.”

“Look, uh—you wanna just take a few bills outta there and forget it?” I asked, real generously. “I mean, uh—we’re all in this mess together, ya know—”

“Bribing an officer of the law is a very serious offense, sonny boy. You’ll have to come with me. Park your car there, please.”

“Here? But there’s a hydrant here. I’ll get a ticket.”

bootleg broadway coverBlurb: 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—it’s all his for the taking, despite Pru’s opposition to Rosie’s ventures. Meanwhile, Pru’s artistic career gains momentum and their child is born. 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…

You can purchase BOOTLEG BROADWAY from:

The Wild Rose Press, Kindle, Amazon Paperback, Barnes & Noble Nook, iTunes.

LOL, I think the parking ticket is the least of Billy’s worries.