Author of Suspense, Ghost stories, Romance, and More . . .
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Join Uvi and me along with a select group of authors who are joining forces
to bring you amazing stories, beautifully narrated.
Looking for your new favorite audio story?
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in this Christmas extravaganza.
There will be many chances to win one or more
of our audiobooks:
1939. Vienna, Austria. Life was as close to perfect for medical doctor Johann Goetz, his artist wife Sybilla, and their three children . . . until the world went stark raving mad.
As Nazi propaganda seeps into the fibers of Vienna, families and neighbors are pitted against one another, and hatred brews until the tensions erupt on the night of Kristallnacht. But Jewish families like the Goetzs know that the madness is only beginning.
Word of the deadly program against the Jews of Europe spreads far and wide, even to the quaint Amish farm belonging to Joseph Jotter’s family in Lancaster County. The idea of neighbors hating neighbors is a foreign concept in Amish country, and Joseph finds himself asking God to show him how he can help the Jewish people of Europe.
First off, let me just say Wow! This book was amazing. I was hooked from the start. It’s a little different than what I’m used to from Sara--I love all of her books--but knowing the basis of this historical tale was plucked from our own family tree made the story even more poignant. I read it straight through in one sitting and absolutely can’t wait for the next book in the series.
https://www.amazon.com/Secret-Room-Jewish-historical-fiction-ebook/dp/B0CJ89YTCL?ref_=ast_author_mpb
Amazon: http://www.tinyurl.com/bmrsong
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/cfakkue
Smashwords: http://tinyurl.com/8besl3w
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/hx72y82
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/hlflu9k
Publisher: http://www.5Princebooks.com/annswann.html
Hello friends! Goodness, it's been awhile since I've updated this account. It's not because I'm lazy - well, not much - I've just been busy. SEEKERS came out, (and now the audio is almost ready). Don't you adore the cover? That's a perfect Turq and Snake. I'm working on the third book, REMAINDERS. That's what's keeping me so busy. Well, that and the major move hubs and I made ... clear across the state of Texas.
Whoo. I'm about to recover, I think.
In addition to REMAINDERS, I've also got RETURN TO STUTTER CREEK in the works. That is a tentative title, I have another in mind, but we'll see how it plays out. For now, enjoy your weekend and as always, happy reading.
And don't forget to look me up on FB or Instagram, we'll chat. 😊📚😊
Amazon: http://www.tinyurl.com/bmrsong
AuthorAnnSwann website https://authorannswann.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/annswann.books
Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/6vuw7vl
Twitter: @ann_swann
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/annswann/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annswann.author
Publisher: http://www.5Princebooks.com/annswann.html
Publisher: https://www.wordcrafts.net/ann-swann/
Amazon: http://www.tinyurl.com/bmrsong
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/cfakkue
Smashwords: http://tinyurl.com/8besl3w
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/hx72y82
iTunes: http://tinyurl.com/hlflu9k
Audible: https://tinyurl.com/yxp4pldx
CHAPTER ONE
Jack
We came on across the dry land in our second Chrysler 300 with our trunk stuffed full of food and water. Every time we saw a market, or a farm with a greenhouse, we stopped to investigate and take whatever we could store and carry.
Snake stood for hours with his back paws on the floorboard and his forepaws on the broad console between the front seats. Turq, the turquoise-shirted Taker who had saved me from a painful death, occupied the shotgun seat to my right. He was my wingman. Carlos, my buddy the Harley rider, lay in the back seat on a mound of pillows and quilts, still healing from some of his burns even after all these weeks.
Thad, the attorney from my hometown of Eden, Texas perished in the firestorm we started in New Mexico. That’s also where we picked up Turq. We lost an attorney but gained a monster. Some would say we made an even trade. I wish Thad was here to appreciate the joke. He had a wicked dark sense of humor when he wasn’t drinking.
My mind wandered back over the last few days. The monotonous sand-toned landscape wanted to sing me to sleep. The hot air punching through the wide-open windows wanted to roast me.
We’d all grown accustomed to riding in the first car with no windows at all, thanks to the battle at the buffalo jump, so even though we’d picked up another Chrysler in Levelland—silver this time—we sometimes rolled down the windows instead of running the AC.
Carlos said the wind rushing through the car made him think he was back on his Harley before the battle that almost killed us. It made sense to me. Without radio or music of any kind, the sound of prairie wind probably seemed the same as riding on a motorcycle.
I stuck my head out the window to test my theory and to try and stay awake.
That’s when I saw the tall man in the distance. He stood beside a gray Dodge Challenger that had seen better days. His long scraggly hair fluffed around his face like cotton candy. His skin was pale.
Night traveler, I thought. No sunburn. No tan. Why’s he out in the daylight now? I had learned to be suspicious of everyone and everything.
I let the Chrysler slow.
He appeared to be filling the Challenger’s gas tank from a red and yellow plastic container exactly the way we’d been doing.
We were still a little way off, but on this stretched ribbon of earth, it was easy to see the man and his task.
“Whaddya think, Snake,” I said. “Good guy, or bad guy?”
My four-legged buddy whined in response. I believe he understands everything I say even though he is stone deaf.
Do you remember where you were when you read certain books?I ask because I saw this picture on Pinterest and it took me right back to my childhood and Amelia Earhart:
It was in the early 70s and I was in a new home in a new neighborhood, with a different elementary school, and spending my first night in my new attic bedroom. It looked very similar to this picture from Pinterest, except there was only one narrow bed and my flower-power bedspread and curtains were purple and pink with hints of turquoise and yellow. They were quite psychedelic, truth be told, made by my seamstress mom who could whip up anything on her Singer sewing machine.
The tiny room was so cozy. So cool. I’ll never forget the feeling of sitting on the floor under my very own reading lamp, back against the bed, legs criss-crossed in the middle of the giant orange floor pillow I’d asked Santa to bring me from last year’s Wishbook. Yep, it was my world, all my own.
I read a lot of books in that attic bedroom over the years, but it’s that first book, a biography of Amelia Earhart, that sticks with me the most. Maybe it was being the only person on the second floor, able to gaze out my small window and see the entire sleeping neighborhood, that made me feel somehow connected to, AE, the legendary pilot. Maybe it was just the room and the book ... I'm not sure.
There were many other books after that, Silver Chief, Dog of the North being one of my favorites, but it was downstairs in a different bedroom--okay, my sister's bedroom, long story--that I discovered my love of scary books. Come back next week and I'll tell you more about that.
And please, by all means, leave a comment and tell me about your book memories.
Till next time, stay cool and read everything you can while your eyes are young.
Ann Swann
Afterthought: I've got some books to give away ... stay tuned.
"A fast moving book, dark, and bloody."
Jack is in the school basement looking at a nerdy website on a laptop computer when the lights go out and the world as he knows it comes crashing down. When he makes his way upstairs after "the rip," monsters are everywhere. He seems to be the only survivor ... but will he survive the Takers?Leave a comment if you would like a REVIEW copy of the audio book (a few US and UK copies available).
Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0BLMFV77D?asin=B0BLMFV77D
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BLMDFQK7/
Apple iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/audiobook/takers-apocalypse-in-eden-book-1-unabridged/id1653411414
Loneliness is a hard task master. Can Carina write herself a better Christmas?
You know how it is, life breaks your heart, but you survive. You work at stitching things back together and after a while it begins to seem better. Until sometime in the quiet curve of the day or in the middle stretch of a lonely night, you realize blood is still seeping. Just a little. Seeping out between the stitches. Drowning you in sorrow.
Carina read what she had written, frowned, then closed the journal. Geez. Talk about a pity party. Even my teenage journal wasn’t this bad.
Turning the page, she wrote, Dear Lord, please direct me back to my happiness. This pity stuff is pathetic.
She underlined the word pathetic three times for emphasis, then she pushed the pen into the little elastic holder on the side of the journal and stared out the picture window at the still-green grass of the front lawn.
There had been very little winter in West Texas this year. January, that’s when the freeze will hit. Maybe even February, but not December. Nope, not December. No white Christmas for us. Not in Landon.
Order now at www.5Princebooks.com/annswann.html
or directly at Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BFRV2K8Z
