“The Wentworth Legacy” is now on Kindle Unlimited


The Wentworth Legacy Kindle Cover Revised

The Wentworth Legacy is now on Kindle Unlimited. Check it out here.

Spencer Wentworth’s carefree life does not prepare him when he inherits a huge fortune with an attached responsibility. When the stock market collapses in 1929, the family fortune suffers a huge loss and is in the brink of bankruptcy. He has to find a quick solution before he loses everything. An opportunity arises when he meets Sally Sinclair, an only child of a wealthy new family in town and is willing to marry her to save his legacy at the cost of losing the woman he loves, Lorna Beckett, an orphan and a friend of his sister.

“This plot-driven, emotionally complex tale effectively details Spencer’s determination to sacrifice his own happiness in favor of his family’s success. . . With harrowing intensity, Morgan also illustrates the pervasive anxiety just before a disastrous era hit. Overall, she delivers an engrossing love story while also depicting surprising burdens borne by New York’s wealthiest families during the late 1920s. An engaging tale of a young man’s coming-of-age that will appeal to fans of complicated family sagas.”Kirkus Reviews


How my father spent Christmas Eve 1941

Christmas Eve

Dec. 24, 1941

As they were nearing Tarlac, they were hearing explosions close by. There were more explosions it seemed. Looking further out, they could see clouds of black smoke billowing up in the sky, then more explosions. Every so often, they would stop on their trek and waited till the explosion stopped. It just went on forever, it seemed. It could not possibly be too far because it sounded too loud. They were getting very nervous. They knew heavy fighting must be going on somewhere nearby. They could smell the gunpowder. They were hoping they would not encounter the enemy on the road. The road was very busy at certain sections but they had not seen any Japanese troops. They were mostly American soldiers and Filipino soldiers going the other way. At around 4 PM, they hastened their pace before it really got dark. They were determined to reach the provincial capital of Tarlac.

They were looking for the municipal building where they usually stayed for the night when they heard the roar of army trucks and a band of Japanese soldiers approaching in their direction. There was no time to run away or hide from them. They knew the Japanese soldiers saw them. If they ran, chances were the Japanese would fire their guns. Better to stay calm. Still, there was that fear that they could get shot. Some of the Japanese soldiers got off the trucks and with their bayonet-tipped rifles brandishing away waved at Benjamin and his group and told them to stop.

Benjamin took a quick look at Ramon and his brother nodded. They all stopped and stood frozen. The group thought that was the end of them. Still they tried to remain calm. They bowed to the Japanese soldiers who bowed back. One of the soldiers started talking in Japanese to his comrades and then turned to them. He looked at them up and down, one after another. The soldiers nodded their head. They talked to each other again in Japanese while Benjamin and his group waited. They could not make anything out of what they were saying but they were scared. They did not know what these soldiers were going to do.

“Dear Lord, please help us.” Benjamin was praying in silence.

Then one of the soldiers took a step and looked at them holding their packs.

“What’s in those packs?” one of the Japanese soldiers asked. He spoke little English.

“Clothes.” Ramon said automatically and bowed. Everyone bowed too. In his nervousness, he forgot about the corned beef that they exchanged with the American soldiers a few days ago. Within minutes after he said “Clothes”, he remembered the corned beef suddenly. He felt sweats running down his shirt. He tried to remain calm.

The soldiers looked at them up and down again and decided they looked harmless. The content of the packs was forgotten.

One of the Japanese soldiers said in a very stern voice, “Drop down those packs and go over there.” They looked where he was pointing. He was pointing to the farther side of the building with a clearing.

Slowly Ramon obediently dropped his pack and everyone followed his lead. They put down their belongings on the ground. “That was a close call,” he thought. At least for now, the storm has past.

Pointing to one side of the building, another soldier said, “No. Bring your things to that side of the building instead and hurry up.” They turned to where he was pointing then looked at each other and nervously picked up all their packs.

As they were taking their belongings to the other side of the building, Delfin whispered to Benjamin, “What are they going to do to us? They can’t seem to make up their mind.”

Benjamin answered, “I have no idea but I don’t like it, whatever it is.”

Ramon said to the six of them, “What can they do to us? We are civilians. We are not soldiers. Just do what they want us to do. Hopefully, they will not harm us.”

“Get moving. Get moving. We do not have all day.” Another one of the Japanese soldiers barked.

“Follow me,” the ringleader said. They did not know what to do. They looked at each other and without saying a word, started following the ringleader. They had no choice.

Benjamin started wondering what the soldiers were up to. Are these soldiers about to kill them? What would happen if they did? “God, please help us.” He prayed again.

They got to the other side of the building and came upon a battlefield which was littered with corpses, wrecked trucks, guns, cartridges, maps and backpacks all strewn everywhere. Some of the bodies were on top of each other. The sight was unbelievable. The stench of the dead bodies in the tropical heat was awful. They wiggled their nose and covered their mouth. Some of the dead bodies were covered with flies and then the flies tried to land on their faces. They shooed them away quickly.

There were hundreds of men, in various conditions of carnage, young men in their late teens and early twenties all bloodied and lifeless. There were huge abdominal gashes, some with buried or protruded shrapnel. Some have severed arms. Others lost their legs. Some had disfigured faces and mutilated bodies. Some had their skull opened probably with bayonets or samurai swords. There were bullet holes and dried blood all over their bodies. Some of the dead had their eyes open and thousands of flies buzzed and maggots started swarming around the bodies. It was a gruesome sight.

“Kura, Kura”, the Japanese leader said pointing to the scattered dead bodies. “Pick them up and bring them over there to the front of the building.”

They looked at each other and felt disgusted. They were incredulous. They could not believe what the Japanese soldier was saying. Their two cousins, Elias and Felipe, who had weak stomach threw up. One of the Japanese soldiers saw Elias and Felipe.

The Japanese soldier came over to them and with his bayonet stumping on the ground said, “Are you a man or a woman? Get up or you’ll be one of them.” pointing to the dead bodies. Elias and Felipe still nauseous tried to straighten up and moved slowly to the task at hand. Benjamin felt nauseated himself but he tried to control himself. Ramon held his stomach hard to keep from vomiting. Manuel, Francisco and Delfin looked at them trying hard not to vomit. They spat on the ground and tasted bile in their mouth.

One by one, with heavy heart and disgusted looks on their faces, they picked up the dead bodies of men, American, Filipinos and Japanese killed in the heavy fighting. They were so afraid to protest for fear of the consequences. They wanted to stay alive.

They started picking up the bodies and just dropped them in front of the building. Then one of the soldiers rushed back to the front of the building.

“Not that way. Like this.” He pulled some dead bodies and then dropped them in a neat pile. Then he changed his mind. “Bring them instead to the back of the building and pile them up in a low”.

Benjamin gave him a quizzical look.

“Like this.” The soldier said. He walked from one side to the other side.

“You mean in a row.” Benjamin bowed. The soldier bowed back.

The group tried hard not to laugh. Benjamin saw their mouth curved slowly in amusement. They were smiling. Benjamin caught them and gave them a dirty look. They quickly stopped smiling and pretended not to hear the conversation.

Then they dragged the dead bodies from the front of the building to the back of the building without saying a word. They lined the bodies from one end of the building to the other end. The stench of the dead bodies was so awful but they tried to ignore it. Their nose kept on twitching but they moved on. They finished the first row.

All the while, the Japanese soldiers were there watching them, leaning against a tree chatting, smoking and drinking. Someone had his cigarette hanging from his lower lip and looking over his shoulder while talking and watching them. Someone must have told a funny joke because you could hear their laughter. Then the leader of the soldiers slung his weapon on his shoulder and stood up straight and walked toward them.

Delfin saw him and flinched, whispered to Ramon, “What is he going to do now?”

“Just stay calm. Let me handle this.” Ramon said.

The group had just finished the first row. As the commander approached them, Ramon bowed to him and asked, “What do we do with the rest?”

“Put them on top of one another.”

“Like sandbags? Ramon asked.

“Yes. Go.”

Without uttering another word, they all went back to work. They just kept on piling the bodies without thinking. On and on, they flopped the dead bodies on top of the first row.

As Benjamin was helping pile all the dead bodies one on top of the other, he could not help thinking about the fate of these young men. How will their parents know that their sons are gone? Some of these soldiers are still young kids, a few years younger than him. The war is only just beginning. How many more men and women and possibly children will be lost in the following months? How many of these young men had their dreams shattered and lost in this battle? How about their sweethearts that they left behind going to accept the fact that they will never get married and have that family and house that they dreamt of? How about those young wives who they left behind? Some probably even have children that were born after their husband went to war. The kids will never know their father. Suddenly he thought of Adelaide, then said a silent prayer to spare him and his brothers. He wanted to see Adelaide. He had to make it home and see her. He had to behave himself so the Japanese won’t harm them. He wanted so much to stay alive.

They worked furiously for almost five hours without a break. At first it was hard to concentrate and the task was so gruesome, it was nauseating. After a while, they became an automaton and they just piled the bodies on top without even thinking. As the night started to fall, they were beginning to get dizzy from hunger. They were so weary and exhausted when the Japanese soldiers told them to stop for the night.

Then out of the blue, which they could not figure out why, the Japanese fed them. They ate a meal of rice and some meat. It was not bad at all considering that they were at war with these people. Benjamin was thinking maybe this was their last supper. God only knew what would happen next. Then like another miracle in the night, the Japanese soldiers left. They were left alone in the municipal building. They looked at each other and could not figure out why they just left them there alone. But they were too tired to worry about it. The soldiers never thought of them running away since it was too dark at night already and they were exhausted from all the work. The soldiers were right but not completely right. It was late so they took out their sleeping mats and due to exhaustion, they all fell asleep in no time except Benjamin.

Benjamin lay awake, decided to go outside and sat on the front stoop of the municipal building. He listened to the faint rumbling of gunfire in the distance and the buzzing of the insects nearby that seemed to converge around him. Now and then, he slapped the mosquitoes haphazardly making a sharp crack at the buzzing sound. Benjamin was so tired that night but sleep was elusive. The sight of those young men kept on coming back. There were more in the field. They did not finish piling them up. Maybe that’s why the Japanese left them alone. He was sure they were thinking of them finishing them up the next day and God knows what would happen next.

The whole thing was really bothering him so much and he kept on thinking about the dead bodies. They were not just white American. People of every color, black, white, brown with blue, brown, green and black eyes. These young kids were here with a mission, fighting for a noble cause to defend the Philippines from the invaders. Benjamin could not get their faces out of his mind.

He sat there for a long time thinking he could get some fresh air. However, the air outside did not smell fresh. On ordinary evenings, you could smell the scent of exotic tropical plants and the evening would be loaded with fireflies dancing in the air but not tonight. It was acrid and smelt of death.

He looked up at the sky. The night sky was clear with the moon shining brightly and there was a sprinkling of thousands of stars. The stars were twinkling so bright and hanging so low. It looked like you could almost touch them. He just realized that tonight was Christmas Eve. It was hard to believe and yet here he was in the midst of a rotten place on Christmas Eve. It did not make sense whatsoever. He then realized maybe the Japanese had Christmas spirit after all and that was the reason why they did not harm them. They also went out to town for merrymaking perhaps. The Baby Jesus must be watching over them.

Then he thought of something else. If it was a different circumstance, they could have been home by this time. They should be about getting ready for the coming of the Saviour, Jesus Christ. It should be nearing the time when they all went to church for the midnight mass and then home and enjoying Noche Buena. “Oh, how I wish we were home now,” he sighed.


Excerpts from the book “BAHALA NA (Come What May)” – my father’s memoir. Benjamin in the story was my father.


Until Next time. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Rosalinda R Morgan

Author & Garden Writer

The Wentworth Legacy Giveaways


Enter for a chance to win a copy of The Wentworth Legacy: A Long Island Novel (Kindle Edition) by Rosalinda R Morgan.


Winners will be randomly selected after Giveaway has ended, up to 2 winners.


Requirements for participation:

·         Resident of the 50 United States or the District of Columbia.

·         18+ years of age (or legal age)

·         Follow Rosalinda Morgan on Amazon.

Giveaway Link: Your giveaway link:

Starts today, Aug. 2, 2017 at 6:51 AM PDT and ends on Aug. 17, 2017 at 11:59 PM PDT

Enter Today. https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/5b301e44c5e125ff

A Great Summer Read – “The Iron Butterfly”


Just in time for the summer reading. “The Iron Butterfly” by Rosalinda R Morgan is discounted to $1.99 on Kindle for a limited time this summer. Get your copy today at Amazon and enjoy a great read.

“The Iron Butterfly” is a gripping tale about the intense devotion and ordeal of Regina Buendia, a young mother who suddenly finds herself all alone and penniless with nine young children to support after her husband died. Facing a bleak future, she has to find a way to tackle a male chauvinistic society where men still rule the business world. Will she be able to break through the barrier? Follow the life of Regina and her children as they grow up fatherless tackling financial hardship, a natural disaster and the onset of WWII.

An inspiring story of faith, hope and daring ambition.

Until next time. Keep on reading.

Rosalinda R Morgan

Author & Garden Writer

BAHALA NA (Come What May) reduced price in time for Memorial Day

 BAHALA_NA_(Come_What_Cover_for_Kindle (2)

With Memorial Day approaching, I am offering “BAHALA NA (Come What May)” on Kindle at a discounted price of $2.99 for a limited time starting today. “BAHALA NA (Come What May)” is dedicated to the men of the armed forces who fought bravely to protect my old country, The Philippines, against the Japanese forces. “BAHALA NA (Come What May) is about my father’s experience before and during WWII. There is a snippet of my parent’s love story in it.

With just over 75 years after Pearl Harbor and only a few WWII veterans left, we should not forget those brave men and women who fought to keep our country safe. Let us keep their memories alive.

“BAHALA NA (Come What May)” is available at Amazon.com both in Kindle and paperback.

Order you copy today!


Until Next time. Keep on reading.

Rosalinda R Morgan

Author & Garden Writer

What was the inspiration for your recent novel, “The Wentworth Legacy”?

I’ve been asked a few times about my inspiration for “The Wentworth Legacy” and so here it is.


When we moved to Long Island in 1971, I was exposed to the life of the old money. My mother-in-law had remarried after her husband died to a member of what I considered the upper class of the North Shore of Long Island. As such, I was lucky to see some of the homes of the wealthy families of the North Shore which somehow got into the pages of my book. I came to dine at Piping Rock Club in Locust Valley and Colony Club in New York, both are exclusive country clubs for the old money. No, my husband and I were not members of those clubs although he was a member of the Knickerbocker Club in New York. My mother-in-law was a member of both Piping Rock and Colony.

I saw and heard stories about the life above and below stairs from people around me. It was both fascinating and intimidating at first but as the years went on, I learned to be comfortable with the new aspect of my married life. It was a far cry from where I came from – a small town in the Philippines.

We are often asked if we are related to J.P. Morgan. We are not. My husband said they came on different boats. People often wondered why my husband knew so many old money in the community. My husband’s parents were not rich although I sensed his grandmother was. They were comfortable but their social standing was far above most of the people I knew.

So, the idea of writing a book about the old money came from being around some of them. This time, the North Shore in “The Wentworth Legacy”, next time, the South Shore in “?????”. Stay tuned.


“The Wentworth Legacy” reviewed by Kirkus


I received this review today from Kirkus Reviews:

“This plot-driven, emotionally complex tale effectively details Spencer’s determination to sacrifice his own happiness in favor of his family’s success. . . With harrowing intensity, Morgan also illustrates the pervasive anxiety just before a disastrous era hit. Overall, she delivers an engrossing love story while also depicting surprising burdens borne by New York’s wealthiest families during the late 1920s. An engaging tale of a young man’s coming-of-age that will appeal to fans of complicated family sagas.” – Kirkus Reviews




Until next time. Stop and Smell the Roses.

Rosalinda, “The Rose Lady”





Women’s March and “The Iron Butterfly”

The Iron Butterfly Cover

When I heard about the hullabaloo about the Women’s March, I could not help thinking about my grandmother portrayed in my book called “The Iron Butterfly”

Unlike the boisterous women some of the marchers were, my grandmother tackled the equality rights silently some 90 years ago when equality rights were still unheard of. She had nine children to support when her husband died and left penniless. She did something about her situation. She worked hard and tackled the business world heads on where men still ruled the business world but doing it with grace and her dignity intact. She did something about it without sacrificing her image, a gentle lady with poise and a determined mind and spirit to do what is right for her family. She did not go out on the street whining and demanding to be treated like men. She was a different kind of feminist.

Using vulgar language and making threats are not the ways to make a point. They make women look bad in the face of the world. Working hard and being the best you can be are the only answers to be successful and be heard. I’m glad I was not part of the Women’s March.

“The Iron Butterfly” is available in print and Kindle at www.amazon.com/author/rosalindarmorgan. Ibook, Nook, Kobo and other formats of “The Iron Butterfly” are available at www.smashwords.com.


Until next time – Stop and smell the roses.

Rosalinda, The Rose Lady


Rosalinda Morgan

Author & Garden Writer




Kindle Deal for The Iron Butterfly at 99 cents ends today


Kindle Countdown Deal for  “The Iron Butterfly” at 99 cents ends at 8:00 AM PST today, Nov. 13, 2016

The Iron Butterfly is a gripping tale about the intense devotion and ordeal of Regina Buendia, a young mother who suddenly finds herself all alone and penniless with nine young children to support after her husband died. Facing a bleak future, she has to find a way to tackle a male chauvinistic society where men still rule the business world. Will she be able to break through the barrier?

As the Great Depression affected the colonies, she is now faced with new concern – how to survive with business suffering and money being so tight. Just as she thinks she is getting ahead, a major natural disaster happens with terrible consequence to follow. Then her problems become insignificant compared to what was about to happen – the attack on Pearl Harbor and how the war in the Pacific affects their very existence.

An inspiring story of faith, hope and daring ambition.

Until next time. Stop and smell the roses.

Rosalinda Morgan, The Rose Lady

Author and Garden Writer



Excerpts from “The Iron Butterfly”

The Iron Butterfly Cover

Chapter 3, page 31-35

The orderlies placed Eugenio on the far end of the ward. Dr. Contreras went back out of the emergency room and came back with a surgeon in tow. The doctor acknowledged Regina’s presence by merely nodding his head and went right to take Eugenio’s vital signs. His pulse was terribly weak and his breathing was short. He was barely conscious. His skin was so hot.

“His fever is dangerously high. How long has he been like this?” the doctor asked, putting the thermometer once more in Eugenio’s mouth.

“Since yesterday,” Regina said lamely.

He timed the thermometer, then pulled it out. The mercury had not moved. “Good God. Still one hundred and five. Has he vomited? Any headache?”

“He had all that,” Dr. Contreras said, looking at Eugenio who was barely aware of what was going on.

Hearing all that, the doctor looked at Regina and said, “We have to operate now.” Regina just nodded and pressed Eugenio’s hand tightly waiting for a response. Nothing came. She suddenly felt a knot on her stomach. She felt worried.

The doctor called a nurse and gave her instructions. In no time, she wheeled Eugenio from the emergency room to the operating room.

The surgeon went ahead of them to the operating room where a team of doctors and nurses had assembled to help in the operation. The surgeon put on a clean white gown, went to the sink and scrubbed his hands. The nurses, already had their white apron on and went to work assembling a tray of instruments. Another doctor began administering the anesthesia, waving it across Eugenio’s face. Eugenio was half conscious, half asleep. He coughed and turned away. He was now becoming very drowsy.

“Scalpel,” the doctor said.

“Right here,” one of nurses said.

The surgeon saw the nurse press an oxygen mask over Eugenio’s face. He took three deep breaths then stopped breathing altogether. His chest sank. The nurse took the oxygen mask off and started chest compression. Behind her, two doctors traded worried glances. One of them motioned to the nurse and he took over.

“One . . . two . . . three . . .,” he counted, pushing his palms in the center of Eugenio’s chest. He pumped hard and fast. When there was no reaction, he stopped.

“He’s gone,” the doctor said quietly. He stepped back. The surgeon, still holding the scalpel which was never used, stared in disbelief.

Shaking his head, the surgeon said, “I wish they had brought him earlier. I could have saved him.”

“We tried. There was nothing more anyone could have done. It was too late.”

The surgeon looked at Eugenio, at his lifeless eyes. The doctor shut his own eyes. He took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. No matter how many operations he did, he still felt down if he could not save the lives of his patients. He then gently closed Eugenio’s eyes. One of the nurses snapped open a sheet and draped it over Eugenio. Eugenio developed peritonitis, an acute inflammation of the abdomen caused by a rupture of the appendix following appendicitis.

The surgeon came out of the operating room looking drained and talked to Dr. Contreras who was waiting just outside the operating room. At the sight of him, Dr. Contreras knew the surgeon was not able to save him.

“He is gone. We tried to save him but it was too late. He developed peritonitis,” the surgeon said. Dr. Contreras placed the heel of his right hand on his forehead. He felt awful. He did not know how to break the news to Regina. They conferred for a while and then they went to see Regina to tell her the news.

Regina and Lucio sat patiently in the waiting room while Eugenio was being operated on and it was agony waiting for the doctors to come out of the operating room. The clock seemed to stop. It felt like eternity.

At last, Regina saw the doctors coming their way. She stood up and approached the doctors. Lucio was by her side. She held Lucio’s hand tight finding strength in it and fearing the worst. She was holding to a sliver of hope, hoping for a miracle.

“How’s my husband?” Regina asked. The surgeon looked at Dr. Contreras who nodded, then dropped his eyes. Regina waited a minute. Then looking at the surgeon straight in the eye, she asked again nervously, “How’s my husband, Doctor? Can I see him now?”

“I’m . . .” The doctor faltered.

“What’s wrong? Something is wrong.” She looked at Dr. Contreras. “Please tell me. I want to know what happened.” Fear began to trickle through her veins.

The doctor cleared his throat nervously. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Eugenio’s appendix had burst. We did everything possible but it was too late. We could not save him.”

Regina gasped, put her hand over her mouth. She did not want to believe what she was hearing. She shook her head. Lucio stood by her side incredulous at what he heard. He grabbed his mother’s arm instinctively.

The doctor continued, “His blood was poisoned. He developed peritonitis. I’m sorry.”

Regina did not hear all that. There was a buzzing sound in her ears. She felt numb. She felt like somebody hit her on the head and she was going down into an abyss with no bottom in sight. She felt the world was going round and round and she was getting dizzy. She was going to faint. Lucio saw it coming and came to her aid. He sat her down on the nearest chair. Dr. Contreras put his hand around her shoulders and tried to comfort her. Lucio knelt by his mother and held her hands. She tried to hold her tears. Her whole world was falling apart and she did not know what to do. Her mind was in turmoil.

She looked at Lucio and she could see the agony in his eyes and fear of what lay ahead. The boy was bravely holding his tears. Her heart felt the sadness in Lucio’s heart. If he could be brave, so can I, she thought. She could not fail Lucio and her other children. She had to do something. She could not let her emotion get the better of her. She had to be brave and strong for her children. She quickly resolved she had to get over this stupor and act quickly.

Regina looked around. Dr. Contreras, Lucio and the surgeon were silent all waiting for her to calm down. She composed herself in an instant, stood up erect and with a solemn look on her face swallowed hard and spoke to the surgeon, “I thank you all for what you did for my husband. I do appreciate it very much.” She extended her hand and shook his hand.

The surgeon said, “I am truly sorry. We tried everything.”

“I know you did. When can we see him?” She reached for Lucio’s hands and tried to hold her tears.

“Just give us few minutes.” Then both the surgeon and Dr. Contreras left them in the waiting room.

“She’s a remarkable woman,” the surgeon said to Dr. Contreras.

Regina did not know where she got the strength to hold back her tears. She promised not to cry in front of everyone. It could be construed as weakness and she could not allow that. Not now, maybe later. She needed all the courage she could muster. She looked at Lucio, the eldest son, the head of the family now: always serious and dutiful and hugged her son tightly. Her eldest son will now take the responsibility left by his father. She felt very sad for him. He was only 15, too young to bear such a heavy burden for the family. Her heart ached for her eldest son. It was not fair, she thought.

It dawned on her that she was now a widow at 36 with a big responsibility to take care of nine children. Her head was spinning. She held on tight to Lucio’s hands which gave her strength. She lost her voice and could not say another word. She turned around and saw the chair she was sitting on before and sat back down again, numb and lost.

It was Dec. 23, 1928, 2 days before Christmas.