A Soldier's Italian Christmas — Jina Bacarr

He is a U.S Army captain, a battle-weary soldier who has lost his faith.
She is a nun, her life dedicated to God.
Together they are going to commit an act the civilized world will not tolerate.
They are about to fall in love.

December 1943
Italy

The ravages of combat have taken a toll on Captain Mack O'Casey, who has lost his faith after seeing the horrors of war as the Nazis fight hard to keep the Allies from reaching Rome. His beliefs are challenged even more when he loses his way and ends up in a mystical place called Monte D'Oro Rose during the cold winter of 1943…and falls in love with the beautiful Sister Angelina.

The young nun has a secret of her own, one she will die trying to protect: the lost Cross of Saint Cecelia. She must find the religious relic first before the brutal Nazi major who will stop at nothing to get it. Even murder. Sister Angelina risks her life to save the cross for the Church, but will she also risk her heart? Falling in love with the handsome American soldier is against the rules, but she can't deny the stolen moments with him have made her question her vows.

It is Christmas Eve when these two lonely people come together on this holiest of holidays and how faith helps them overcome their greatest fears. A time when the whole world holds its breath as brave men and women fight for freedom.

And a soldier and a nun dare to fall in love…
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Excerpt:

Mack turned around slowly and saw a young woman holding a gun on him. He didn't breathe until he was certain she wouldn't shoot him…looking him over with intense scrutiny, she waved the lantern up and down his body. Over his boots, his uniform, the silver bars on his shoulders, and then his face…She clenched her jaw, but her gaze never wavered. An absolute show of power on her part. It was clear she was relieved to see him, but she didn't trust him.

“I thought this village was deserted,” he said, taking a moment to return her scrutiny. Dressed in a man's dark clothes and heavy jacket, he noticed mud clinging to her boots and the knees of her trousers with a torn cuff. A navy blue beret fit snugly over her head. Curly wisps of silky brown hair escaped onto her cheeks, making him wish he could smooth them back with his fingers. Kiss her cheek. “My sergeant and I have been walking for miles since the Nazi big guns cut us off from our unit.”

Satisfied he was telling the truth, she said, “We've been holed up here praying the Allies would come.”

As she spoke, half a dozen little boys raced out from the shadows and crowded around her. Mack smiled. Round, cherub faces, black unruly hair. They reminded him of his brothers back home in Brooklyn when they were kids. The oldest boy couldn't have been more than ten, the youngest about three. What surprised him was how clean their hands and faces were. Most children he'd seen in Naples since landing near Salerno were dirty and barefoot.

A familiar itch up crawled his backside. First, the shining cross in the sky. Now a beautiful woman with a brood of scrappy angels. What holy place had he stumbled into?

“Are you alone?” he asked, wondering where her husband was. Most likely fighting in the North. Ever since the devastating Allied losses at Bari, most partisans had fled into the hills. By the looks of the destruction, the village had been under attack for weeks.

“No, Sister Benedetto and I stayed behind to care for the children when the town was evacuated.”

“You're in danger. The Germans have fortified this whole area with armed defense. Barbed wire and mines.”

“We are never truly alone, Captain. We have God to protect us.”

“And now the U.S. Fifth Army, Signorina.”

She lowered her chin, but her eyes looked directly at him. “I am called Sister Angelina.”