THE 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.
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?
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.
An 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.
An 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.”
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The Wild Rose Press
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
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!
Thanks for sharing,
Anita
Looks fantastic, Anita! Thanks for hosting me. Diana
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