SNEAK PEAK

It's been revealed! The cover and title of the book is out! If you didn't see it on the website's home page, take a look below! 👇

In the shadow of World War II, Josef faces a terrible choice. Desperate to avoid the inevitable conscription to the Eastern Front, he joins the SS, believing he can protect his wife and children. But as the horrors of war unfold around him, Josef soon realizes he has woven himself into a fabric of darkness he cannot escape.

Werner, a young doctor sheltered by the serene beauty of the Alps, has lived a life largely untouched by the ravages of World War II. With a fierce determination to save lives, he steps into the turbulent reality of a war-torn hospital. But Werner soon stumbles upon a harrowing secret buried beneath the hospital's facade. A secret that could spell death for many.

Reuven, a former university student turned underground fighter, dedicates his life to combating Hitler's regime. Using the power of words to spread anti-Nazi pamphlets, he ignites the flames of resistance. Yet, as he navigates the shadows of rebellion, he is torn by a desperate secret, and a sister whose safety relies on his every move.

Three Stories. One War. One Faith.

Sneak Peak!!

Yes! The time has come for a sneak peak into the lives of the characters! This book is divided into 3 POVs belonging to three very different people. That means I'll have to give you three little sneak peaks! 🎉

Josef

Hans’ face sobered slightly. “Did you receive another letter?”

Josef nodded again. “And you?”

“Ja.”

Josef forced a smile. “Well, at least we’ll be there together,”

“Not me,” Hans replied. “I’m not going to the east.”

“Are you a Nazi then?” Josef asked.

“Maybe not in the way you’re thinking,” Hans replied, slowly. “I wouldn’t call myself Hitler, and I certainly don’t believe everything he says, but I don’t think being a Nazi is as terrible as some make it out to be.”

Josef’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure, Hans.”

“I know this war might not have been started for entirely just reasons, but it has started, and now we had better finish it if it’s ever going to end,” Hans pointed out.

“What about the Jews?” Josef asked.

Hans shrugged. “What about them?”

“They say in Berlin the Nazi’s burned homes and destroyed shops belonging to the Jews.”

“They also say the Jews are selling secrets to our enemies and trying to destroy our country. No one really knows the truth, and rumors spread fast, especially in war,”

Josef sighed. “Well how are you planning to avoid the Eastern Front?”

“I’m joining the Schutzstaffel,” Hans replied. “I plan to move closer to Berlin to get a better position, but I’m unmarried. You, however, could stay here.”

“The SS?” Josef asked, shock clear on his face.

“Why not?” Hans asked. “They’re really just a sort of police force, but it will count as serving in the army. This way, you won’t have to fight for something you don’t believe, and you won’t even have to leave your home very often.”

Josef stopped walking and turned to face Hans. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

“Sure,” Hans replied. “Of course there will be things we don’t agree with, and there’ll be plenty of propaganda, but there will be in any branch of the army, and the point is to stay near your family and away from the Eastern Front.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if being so close to the Nazis’ inner ring puts us in a place where we must do things that we can’t rightly do?” Josef asked.

“Goodness man, it’s not the SA!” Hans exclaimed.

“No. No it’s not the storm troopers, nor the Gestapo, but we still can’t be sure what really goes on there,” Josef argued.

“We can’t be sure about anything now,” Hans pointed out. “You can do what you want, but I, for one, am not going to the Eastern Front. No one comes back from there.

Josef let out a breath. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Ja. Say hallo to the kids and Rosemarie for me.”

“I will,” Josef promised.

The two parted ways, and Josef started out toward home. When he reached the porch, he heard laughter coming through the open window. Josef smiled and hurried up the steps to the door.

“Papa!”

Josef looked up and caught his seven-year-old son with one arm. “Hello Ernst! Look at you, my man.” He tousled Ernst blond hair with his free hand. [...]

Werner

Werner had brought a bag with him, and someone had kindly put it on his desk. He opened the bag and began to unpack his instruments and a few medical books. It wasn’t long before his office was finished, and Werner stood in the middle of the room, a thoughtful frown on his face. Emil said he would send a nurse to fetch him at noon, but that was two hours away. Werner headed for the door and peeked into the hall. There was no one, so he stepped out and began to walk toward the main room of the children’s ward. He passed a door to his left and thought he heard a sound. Pausing, Werner listened. The sound came again, and Werner turned around and opened the door.

A little boy lay in a bed, his back to the door. He was crying softly. Werner stepped in and silently closed the door behind him before he made his way toward the bed. The boy must have heard him, for he rolled over and looked up. Werner smiled. “Can I come in?” he whispered.

The boy nodded, and Werner made his way to the bed. “Good morning.”

“Hallo,” the boy murmured back.

Werner laid a hand on the bed. “May I sit?”

The boy scooted over.

Werner settled on the edge of the mattress and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He offered it to the boy, who took it with a slight smile. He wiped his eyes and handed it back. Werner tucked it into his pocket and smiled again. “I’m Doctor Werner Hansen, but you can call me Werner if you like. What’s your name?”

“Liam Beuar.”

“How old are you, Liam?”

“Eight.”

“Really? I thought you were older.”

Liam smiled.

Werner let his eyes travel over the boy's small, boney hands, thin arms, and drawn face. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Liam lifted his thin shoulders. “I thought you knew.”

Werner smiled wryly. “I ought to. But,” he cupped a hand close to his mouth and leaned in to whisper. “I’m new here.”

A small grin touched the corner of Liam’s mouth.

Werner sat back and wiggled his eyebrows, causing Liam to laugh. “So,” Werner continued. “Do you think I make a good doctor?”

Liam hesitated.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Werner coxed.

Liam smiled again. “You’re very tall.”

“Very tall? What does that have to do with being a doctor, man?”

Liam laughed again and shrugged. [...]

Reuven

Hours passed, and the stack at his side grew. Finally, close to lunch time, Reuven stopped. Putting away the typewriter, he folded the pamphlets and tucked them away in the drawer of his desk. Grabbing his coat and scarf, Reuven put a book under his arm and stepped outside. The wind was chill, but the academic scarf was less for the cold and more for the look. There was only one reason a young man like Reuven should be out and about instead of in the army, and that was because he was a student, and German students were their own sort of army.

Reuven had been an upperclassman before the war started, but once things took a sharp political turn, he left the University altogether. Being opposed to the Nazis was dangerous enough, but someone would have been bound to discover his heritage if he had stayed.

Reuven shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked boldly down the street, half whistling a jaunty tune. He soon arrived at the café and took his favorite seat in the right corner. Here he had a view of the hospital where his sister worked. There was a nurse standing outside this very moment, and Reuven smiled slightly. He would recognize Maria from miles away. No one else stood like that, conveying a calm confidence and gentle reassurance all at once.

The café bell jingled, and Reuven glanced toward the door. He looked twice, and a sense of dread gripped him. An SS officer stood in the doorway, hat in hand. Reuven’s hands began sweating, but he carefully picked up his coffee cup and drank a sip before slowly turning back towards the window. From the corner of his eye, he watched the SS officer. The man was the embodiment of the Aryan German. Tall, broad shouldered, well sculpted, clean shaven, blue eyed and blond haired— he was all the Nazis could ask for.

Reuven had never been this close to an SS, and a trapped feeling began to sweep over him. The SS officers always went down to the bar or one of the fancier diners. He had never seen them come into this little café.

The proprietor didn’t seem too surprised, or maybe he was just hiding it well. Whatever the case, he took the officer’s order and motioned for him to sit down. The SS glanced over at Reuven’s table and hesitated before choosing one near it. Reuven kept his eyes fixed on the street outside, but a chill ran down his spine. Had someone seen him last night? Had he been turned in and this Nazi was coming to finish the job? Jesus, help me.

Reuven’s hand was shaking, so he dropped it into his lap. Opening his book, he let his eyes trail over the pages of Latin verbs. He had faithfully continued to study, even after leaving university, and he knew these words by heart. Still, he forced himself to read over them slowly and carefully. A waitress came to the SS officer with his order, and the man thanked her. Reuven could see him from his peripheral, and he caught a flash of movement as the man drank from his cup. What was it he was drinking? Tea? Reuven couldn’t help his surprise. It didn’t seem possible for a creature like that to really drink something so human as tea.

Focus! Reuven looked back at the page. Appello, appellas, appellare A, appellavi, appellatum. [...]

Well, there you have it! Let me know which character you think will be your favorite! Keep your eyes open for more exciting posts! I have some fun things coming up.... 🤫

Until next time!

God bless!

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