PROHIBITION--the 19th AMENDMENT--RATIFIED ON THIS DAY IN 1919

On this day in 1919, the 18th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, prohibiting the “manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors for beverage purposes,” was ratified by the requisite number of states. My romance thriller BOOTLEG BROADWAY is set during this wild era. More booze flowed during Prohibition than when it was legal! When I first created the characters, I had nothing for them to do yet--I just knew I had to get my hero, the scatterbrained musical genius Billy McGlory, into one mess after another, each worse than the one before. The ending surprised even me--and I wrote it! It was an amazing era to research, especially in boozy New York City. It's Book Two of the New York Saga.

A 5-star Amazon review:

The Cat's Pajamas

Diana Rubino had me on the first page, and didn't let go until the end. Her writing evokes Depression-era New York City richly and thoroughly, from the rhythm of the language to the sounds on the street. You can practically hear the music and the clinking of glasses in the speakeasies.

Billy McGlory is a train wreck in the best possible sense. Ms. Rubino has written a brilliantly flawed character whose good intentions spin slowly but inevitably out of control. I couldn't stop tracking his descent into hell and wondering, as he does, how he'd get out of this. A beautiful character study and a fascinating story of the American Thirties in all their danger and dazzle. Bravo!

It's in print, on Kindle, and on audio with the animated New York native Nina Price.

getBook.at/NewYorkSagaBookTwo

My New York Saga is Now on Audio--Quotes, Songs from Those Days, and the Dream Cast

My New York Saga is now on audio with the expressive voice of Nina Price.

Here are poignant quotes, songs of the day, and the dream cast:

FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET (1894-5)

Songs:

The Band Played On – Dan Quinn

The Sidewalks of New York – Dan Quinn

The Liberty Bell – U.S. Marine Band

My Pearl is a Bowery Girl – Dan Quinn

My Best Girl’s a New Yorker – Edward M. Favor

Quotes:

Toiling over the mind-numbing work, Vita conjured up her favorite daydream: an elegant brownstone with lacy iron gates, bay windows, polished floors, marble fireplaces. No trash flung down air shafts, no shared toilets, no backyard privies...above Fourteenth Street.

Vita went to mass before breakfast. She sat way in back and didn’t pay much mind to the priest chanting away in Latin. This was her private time for praying and remembering her mother. She looked up in the familiar far corner. The image of an angel with dreamy blue eyes looked down at her. As she pretended that angel was Mama, a protecting comfort always warmed her.

“My cousin Mike was found shot to death next to this building. Your father and brother were arrested for his murder. I’m sorry, Vita. I’m so sorry.” Tom approached her with caution, longing to hold her, to cradle her in his arms. 

* *

 Dream Cast:

Vita Caputo – Rachel Weisz

Tom McGlory – Christian Bale

Rosalia Caputo – Marissa Tomei

Jadwiga Wisen – Debra Messing

Purchase FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET in paperback, Kindle or Audio (free with your Amazon Audible trial)

BOOTLEG BROADWAY (1931)

Songs:

Just a Gigolo – Ted Lewis and His Orchestra

Minnie the Moocher – Cab Calloway and His Cotton Club Orchestra

Mood Indigo – Duke Ellington

Stardust – Isham Jones

I Got Rhythm – Red Nichols

Quotes:

Billy clasped Pru’s hand, dropped to one knee, and cleared his throat for the most important recital of his life. “You’re the essence of my being. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and even after that. Now you’re carrying my child, and I want us to be a real family. Pru, will you marry me?”

“What did you name her?” Billy couldn’t stop staring. This breathing,

living child nestled in Pru’s arms was his flesh and blood. And he thought his songs were a divine creation!

“Nothing yet.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I thought I’d leave that to you.”

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, I can’t even think straight.” He slapped the side of his head. “I might wind up calling her Zeppo or something. You better name her.”

“I have to go, Billy. It’s my time…”

“No, Pru. Don’t talk like that.” My heart started hammering. I removed my sweaty palms from her arm. “Please. I love you, Pru. You’re my whole life.” I struggled to keep my voice even as I sobbed. “Don’t leave me!” That was an order—the only one I’d ever given her. I turned my head so she couldn’t see me bawling and swiping at my tears.

* *

Dream Cast:

Billy McGlory – Leonardo DiCaprio

Pru Muller McGlory – Gwyneth Paltrow

Greta Schliessmeyer – Scarlett Johansen

Rosario Ingovito – Joe Pesci

Al Capone - Chazz Palminteri

Purchase BOOTLEG BROADWAY in paperback, on Kindle, or Audio (free with your Amazon Audible trial)

FROM HERE TO CAMELOT (1963)

Songs:

Ring of Fire – Johnny Cash

From Me to You – The Beatles

You’re the Devil in Disguise – Elvis Presley

Louie Louie – The Kingsmen

Walk Like a Man – The Four Seasons

Quotes:

“Vikki, it’s Linc Benjamin.” His ragged voice came over the line. “I have terrible news. Jack is dead.”

“What?” She couldn’t have heard right. “What did you say?”

“Jack was found in the bathtub of his hotel room this morning—”

She dropped the phone and slid down against the wall. Her glasses fell off her face. The room spun. Sunlight glared. She smelled the new coat of wax on the kitchen floor.

Vikki read over her father’s transcript, Jack’s voice echoing through her mind. “I’ll find you, you bastard, whoever you are,” she said reverently, like a vow. “If I have to die doing it.”

Al lowered his lips to Vikki’s, and everything converged into a blur. Her arms wound around him. She wept, for her loss, for fear of the future, of the unknown, of this man whose mouth claimed hers. This time she didn’t ask Jack to forgive her. She hoped he was tripping the light fantastic with Marilyn Monroe right now.

Dream Cast:

Vikki McGlory Ward – Christina Applegate

Billy McGlory – Harrison Ford

Aldobrandi Po – Vincent Irizarry

Rosario Ingovito – Edward G. Robinson

Greta Schliessmeyer McGlory – Michelle Pfeiffer 

Purchase THE END OF CAMELOT in paperback, Kindle, or Audio (free with your Amazon Audible trial)

 * * *

An Interview About Me & Audio Books

Tell us about the process of turning your book into an audiobook. 

My publisher, The Wild Rose Press, auditioned some narrators and sent me samples. When Nina finished narrating it, Wild Rose released it and put it on sale with retailers.

Do you believe certain types of writing translate better into audiobook format? 

Adventure and suspense translate well, as long as the narrator has an animated voice. My books, with characters who have different actors, came out really well, because Nina does great accents and different voice inflections.

Was a possible audiobook recording something you were conscious of while writing? 

No, I never thought of it at the time.

How did you select your narrator? 

When I heard Nina’s sample, I knew she was the best narrator for my books.

How closely did you work with your narrator before and during the recording process? Did you give them any pronunciation tips or special insight into the characters? 

We spoke on the phone a few times, and discussed the characters and their backgrounds. When she had a question about the pronunciation of a word, I either spelled it out phonetically or sent her a video of someone saying the word or phrase.

Were there any real life inspirations behind your writing? 

Yes, FROM HERE TO FOURTEENTH STREET’s heroine Vita is based on my great-grandmother, a businesswoman, wife and mother. She was way ahead of her time. I always have historical events as backdrops for my books. BOOTLEG BROADWAY is set during Prohibition, and THE END OF CAMELOT is centered around the John F. Kennedy assassination.

How do you manage to avoid burn-out? What do you do to maintain your enthusiasm for writing?

I pace myself, I write 2500 words a day and sometimes more if I’m on a roll. My enthusiasm never wanes, because I’m a huge history buff, I love doing the research, and my passion for it comes out in my stories.

Are you an audiobook listener? What about the audiobook format appeals to you? 

I listen to audiobooks on long car trips. It’s convenient to listen to books while doing something else, driving, as a passenger in a car, doing chores, etc.

Is there a particular part of this story that you feel is more resonating in the audiobook performance than in the book format? 

The dialogue is very animated and authentic throughout all three books. Nina does great New York and ‘wiseguy’ accents.

If you had the power to time travel, would you use it? If yes, when and where would you go? 

I’ve always wanted to spend a week in ancient Rome, Greece, or Pompeii.

What do you say to those who view listening to audiobooks as “cheating” or as inferior to “real reading”? 

It’s as much cheating or inferior to ‘real reading’ as watching a TV show or a play instead of reading the script.

How did you celebrate after finishing this novel? 

I always celebrate by recharging my batteries—usually by reading my favorite genres, biographies, mysteries, and paranormal novels.

What gets you out of a writing slump? What about a reading slump? 

I’ve never been a slump; I make sure I reach my 2500-word goal every day, even if it’s not my best output. I can always go back and rewrite.

In your opinion, what are the pros and cons of writing a stand-alone novel vs. writing a series? 

A series allows the reader to get to know the characters and become familiar with them. Stand-alones don’t have that advantage.

Have any of your characters ever appeared in your dreams? 

Yes, but they’re historical figures—Richard III and Henry VIII.

What bits of advice would you give to aspiring authors? 

Keep writing. Keep practicing. Most of all, don’t ever give up on your dream. Just having a dream makes you very special. If you get impatient because it’s taking so long, just ask yourself this: Why does 16-year Scotch take 16 years? Some things are worth waiting for.

Do you have any tips for authors going through the process of turning their books into audiobooks? 

Ask your publisher if they do audio books, and if not, remind them that audio books are booming!

BOOTLEG BROADWAY, a Story of Debauchery and Romance. Prohibition, booze, music, sex, murder… New York…what a time to be alive!

The birth of BOOTLEG BROADWAY:

After FROM HERE TO 14^TH STREET set in 1894, I needed to set this a generation later, which happened to be the 1930s—with Prohibition and the Great Depression as the backdrop. This is the first book I ever wrote where I created the characters first, with nothing to do yet. The plot developed the way it did because of who they are. My goal was to get the protagonist Billy McGlory into one mess after another. This era couldn’t have been more suited to Billy’s adventures, a few of which he barely escaped with his life.

About BOOTLEG BROADWAY:

In this sequel to FROM HERE TO 14^TH STREET, Vita and Tom McGlory and their three children are struggling to make ends meet.

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 Billy’s 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…

Nicknames from real life:

As in FROM HERE TO 14^th STREET, a lot of characters have nicknames like Piggy Balls and Dirty Neck Bruiso. I sat around the table with my surviving aunts and uncles who were then in their 80s and 90s, and they rattled off these nicknames from ‘the old days’ in Jersey City like they made them up yesterday. That was a standard Italian neighborhood custom, everybody had a nickname. Some were more descriptive than others. But you didn’t just ‘get’ a nickname. You had to earn it.  

Some more nicknames from the old neighborhood:

Bruno Chicken Body

Butta Jeans

Charlie Burp

Chick a la zoo

Dirty Dicky

Dirty Neck Bruiso

Floody

Frankie Butch Butch

Gravel Gertie

Hoo Hoo

Jazzy Lou

Jijji Balls

Jinji

Johnny in for the pot

Juu-jo

Sloppy

Vigi-Leak

My fav passage from BOOTLEG BROADWAY (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. 

Where Did I Begin?

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.

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." 

 I CONSIDERED THESE TITLES BEFORE I CHOSE BOOTLEG BROADWAY (feel free to use any of these if you’re writing a book set during Prohibition or the Depression—it was a tough decision)

Headin' for Better Times

How Strange

If It Ain't Love

If I Had You

Never Let the Same Bee Sting You Twice

Opus One

PA6-5000

Puttin on the Ritz

Say it Isn't So

See if I'll Care

Smile

Somebody Loves You

Take the A Train

Thanks for the Memory

Under the Moon

When Dreams Come True

Wherever you Are 

OTHER PROHIBITION BOOKS YOU’LL ENJOY:

The Stork Club - Ralph Blumenthal

Once Upon a Time in NY - Herbert Mitgang

Incredible NY: High Life & Low Life - Lloyd Morris

The Night Club Era - Stanley Walker 

Purchase BOOTLEG BROADWAY:

The Wild Rose Press

Kindle

Amazon Paperback

Barnes & Noble Nook

iTunes

  

Contact me:

My Website

My Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

LinkedIn

GooglePlus

The Wild Rose Press

Amazon Author Page

Book Quote from Depression/Prohibition Romantic Thriller BOOTLEG BROADWAY

For Book Quote Wednesday, the word is LUCK. Authors, find LUCK in your book and Tweet using #BookQW.
A short snippet from my Depression/Prohibition novel BOOTLEG BROADWAY, Book Two of the New York Saga:
With a few hours till the joint opened, Billy went behind the bar, filled his flask, then went outside to lean against the brick wall and watch the world go by. This entire scene was foreign to him, this workforce who made their living by day and slept by night. A life he wasn’t cut out for. Bored with watching that after two minutes, he walked towards the Columbus Circle subway, passing all the briefcase-toting workaday stiffs in suits. He glanced at the tired and haggard faces. And these were the lucky ones-­they had jobs.
The subway reeked of stale urine, and for the first time in years, he had to stand and be a straphanger. The train swayed and jolted. The lights dimmed and blacked out, on and off. He lost his balance several times, bumping into bodies pressed up against him; he couldn’t have fallen if he’d tried. He mouthed silent thanks he’d been born with musical talent; he’d go off his nut if he had to live like this.
getBook.at/NewYorkSagaBookTwo

EVERY WEDNESDAY IS BOOK QUOTE WEDNESDAY #BOOKQW ON TWITTER

In the June Romance Writers of America magazine, my fellow author Mindy Klasky wrote her article "Reformation of a Former Non-Twitter User" about a formula she created to build her Twitter footprint and let us all in on it. One discovery led to another, and it's opened up a new world to me!
Starting with #BOOKQW, I joined Mindy's group that Tweets about a word she chooses every Wednesday (today the word is 'short'). She announces the word, we find that word in one of our books, and Tweet a quote from one of our books using that word.

I checked out some of the Tweets from past Wednesdays, and saw that they all contained fabulous graphics. I asked her and my web designer how to create those graphics, and they both replied instantly, suggesting I try Canva. I signed up, started playing around with the graphics, and already created several for my books. If you've used desktop publishing, it's easy to navigate.

For today's word, 'short', I had a hunch that word was in my Prohibition novel BOOTLEG BROADWAY. I don't know why, it was just one of those guesses that sometimes yields gold, and this sure did! The word 'short' was in the very beginning, and I used that bit of dialogue in a graphic I created and Tweeted today.

It all came together like the pieces of a puzzle!

Check it out on Twitter, too!

I'm Guesting on Jen Twinmom's Blog "That's What I'm Talking About"

Visit me on Jen Twinmom's blog "That's What I'm Talking About" featuring my New York Saga, about the McGlory family's triumphs over poverty, Prohibition, and assassination...and an interview with me about life in New Hampshire.
http://bit.ly/2kjlx9L

BOOTLEG BROADWAY Contest!

My 'wiseguy' novel set during Prohibition is out today. I'm giving away print or E books (whichever format you prefer) to the first 3 people who can tell me the 3 people from the Prohibition era (the 1930s) you would most liked to have met. Send your replies to me at diana@dianarubino.com

http://www.amazon.com/Bootleg-Broadway-New-Yo…/…/ref=sr_1_1…

Mockup Cover of my Prohibition Novel, BOOTLEG BROADWAY with The Wild Rose Press

The second book in my New York Saga, BOOTLEG BROADWAY, set during the wild boozy days of Prohibition, will be released soon. The very talented cover artist Diana Carlile sent me a mockup of the cover, below.

In this sequel to FROM HERE TO 14^TH STREET, Vita and Tom McGlory and their three children are struggling to make ends meet.

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…

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."