FROM THE HEART WITH GINI RIFKIN: August 2026

Wednesday, August 26, 2026

Mary Seacole, also known as Mother Seacole and the Black Florence Nightingale.

(1805-1881) Mary was born in Kingston, Jamaica, to a Scottish military father and a free Black Jamaican mother. Her mother was a renowned healer known as "The Doctress," who passed down traditional Caribbean and African herbal medicine practices.

Mrs. Seacole established her reputation as a healer during a yellow fever outbreak in 1853, and, when, the Crimean War broke out later that year, she wished to do her share to aid the wounded. Traveling all the way to London, she applied to the British Secretary at War and one of Nightingale’s colleagues to be included in the country's nursing corps.

They turned her down!

Here is a quote from her 1857 autobiography, THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES OF MRS. SEACOLE IN MANY LANDS: “Did these ladies shrink from accepting my aid because my blood flowed beneath a somewhat duskier skin than theirs?”

Undaunted, she independently funded her way to the Crimean War to care for wounded soldiers on the front lines.

Near Balaclava, she established the "British Hotel," which served as a store, restaurant, and safe resting place for officers and enlisted men. In my book Lady Gallant, when my heroine Nurse Josephine Posey is injured and lost, Mary Seacole rescues her too.

Mother Seacole was known for bravely riding out to the active battlefields with medical supplies and food, tending to wounded and dying soldiers under cannon fire. The soldiers affectionately called her "Mother Seacole"

Post-war found her bankrupt, but she published her autobiography, Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands, the first memoir by a Black woman in Britain.

Today, Seacole's legacy is celebrated with a statue outside St. Thomas' Hospital in London—believed to be the first monument to a named Black woman in the UK.

My story Lady Gallant has a lot of history sprinkled in, and Mrs. Seacole has a cameo, but there is also intrigue, and of course Romance!

Smack in the middle of the Crimean war, Josephine Posey, a Florence Nightingale nurse, meets Garrick Allen, the Times first war correspondent. With intrigue afoot and bombs bursting in air, they share the secrets of their past and dream of a future together.

Blurb: Disowned by her father and still mourning the death of her fiancé, Josephine Posey joins Florence Nightingale’s brigade of nurses bound for the Black Sea. Thousands of British soldiers desperately await these angels of mercy and a new life awaits Josie. Amidst the chaos of death and despair, she finds a spark of hope, lighting the flame once more inside her soul.

In search of the truth, Garrick Allen, one of Britain’s first war correspondents also journeys to the Crimean Peninsula. To him the soldiers seem all but abandoned by Queen and country, and as he smokes his cheroots and makes friends with a bottle, he writes his bold but honest dispatches for The Times. Not wanting anything more than to finish his job and go home, Garrick is blind-sided by a nurse with attitude who offers him a new slant on life and a reason to love.

My Stories:

Western Romance: Break Heart Canyon * Undercover Outlaw * Cowboys, Cattle and Cutthroats * A Cowboy’s Fate*Special Delivery.

Contemporary Romantic Thriller: Fatal Recall

Medieval Romance: The Dragon and The Rose * Iron Heart *Promise Me Christmas.

Victorian Romance: Lady Gallant * Victorian Dream

Romantasy: The Fae Warriors Trilogy: Solace * Bliss * Portence

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Monday, August 17, 2026

Thriller giveaway $50 Amazon card.

I’m excited to be a part of N. N. Light’s Book Heaven’s Mystery, Suspense, Thriller Bookish Event. (phew!)

Check out all books

and enter the giveaway for an Amazon gift card: Enter contest here

Buy Fatal Recall here

Fatal Recall

Best Romantic Thriller of the Year

from Colorado Authors' League

   Hudson Kincaid prefers the wide-open spaces. But tracking down a serial killer means hanging out in Denver as he investigates neuroscientist Dr. Marilyn Monrose. So far, he can’t figure out if she’s city kitty in high heels, or a country kitten in cowgirl boots? Marilyn’s experiments using ramped up virtual reality, captures the final moments of each murder victim’s life, a chilling discovery she’s trying to keep secret. The last thing she needs is a determined private detective barging into her lab—no matter how sexy he looks in his Stetson hat.
When word of her research is leaked to the press, Marilyn becomes the killer’s next target.
Now the woman Hudson races to save, is the one who has stolen his heart.

Enter contest here

Buy Fatal Recall here

excerpt:

Without hesitation, the man strode across the threshold. The door at his back closed with an impressive thud, and the lock reset with a loud click.

Marilyn sized him up. She figured he must be close to six-foot-three. Being on the taller side herself, she appreciated and was attracted to men of a decent height. Conversely, looking up at a person was unusual for her, adding to her growing dislike for this man and his invasion of her privacy.

Standing at ease, he scrutinized the room. Despite his casual manner, she had no doubt behind those engaging eyes his mind registered every detail about her and the laboratory. Now his gaze drifted lazily over the entire length of her body, stopping one degree short of being rude.

She tried not to fidget. Why didn’t he speak? He’d said he’d come to ask her questions. “Well?” she prompted, breaking the strained silence. He stared back and forth between her and the name scrawled on his note pad, and his reason for contemplation sank in.

Her name, Marilyn Monrose, spelled so closely to her idol’s, often inspired presuppositions as to her appearance, imaginings she couldn’t live up to. “Sorry, no blonde hair or luscious curves. I do have a PhD in biochemistry with a minor in quantum technology and neuropsychology. Oh, and I definitely agree diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

The man cleared his throat, stifled a grin, and had the decency to restrict his concentration to her face. “I’m investigating a recent spate of murders, Miss Monrose.”

"Dr. Monrose.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry. Dr. Monrose, I’m sure you’ve read about them in the newspaper.” Getting down to business, the spark of amusement in his eyes turned dead serious.

This had been a mistake. She shouldn’t have let him in.

“Who hired you? Who are you working for?”

“Why is that important? I handle classified information.”

“You mean for the government?”

“Not exactly, it’s classified because of the threat of corporate espionage.”

“You’re not doing a particularly good job of keeping things quiet. According to the paperwork I’ve seen, your name is listed on the logbooks at the Bancroft labs for each of the victim autopsies. A point of interest, wouldn’t you say?”