Spotlight: A Different Kind of Fire: a novel by Suanne Schafer

Ruby Schmidt has the talent, the drive, even the guts to enroll in art school, leaving behind her childhood home and the beau she always expected to marry. Her life at the Academy seems heavenly at first, but she soon learns that societal norms in the East are as restrictive as those back home in West Texas. Rebelling against the insipid imagery woman are expected to produce, Ruby embraces bohemian life. Her burgeoning sexuality drives her into a life-long love affair with another woman and into the arms of an Italian baron. With the Panic of 1893, the nation spirals into a depression, and Ruby’s career takes a similar downward trajectory. After thinking she could have it all, Ruby, now pregnant and broke, returns to Texas rather than join the queues at the neighborhood soup kitchen. She discovers her life back home is as challenging as that in Philadelphia.

A Different Kind of Fire depicts one woman’s battle to balance husband, family, career, and ambition. Torn between her childhood sweetheart, her forbidden passion for another woman, the nobleman she had to marry, and becoming a renowned painter, Ruby’s choices mold her in ways she could never have foreseen.

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About the Author

Suanne Schafer, born in West Texas at the height of the Cold War, finds it ironic that grade school drills for tornadoes and nuclear war were the same: hide beneath your desk and kiss your rear-end goodbye. Now a retired family-practice physician whose only child has fledged the nest, her pioneer ancestors and world travels fuel her imagination. She originally planned to write romances, but either as a consequence of a series of failed relationships or a genetic distrust of happily ever-after, her heroines are strong women who battle tough environments and intersect with men who might—or might not—love them.

Suanne completed the Stanford University Creative Writing Certificate program. Her short works have been featured in print and on-line magazines and anthologies. Her debut women’s fiction novel, A Different Kind of Fire, explores the life of Ruby Schmidt, a nineteenth century artist who escapes—and returns—to West Texas. Suanne’s next book explores the heartbreak and healing of an American physician caught up in the 1994 Rwandan genocide.

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Spotlight: The Monastery Murders by E.M. Powell

Their lives are ones of quiet contemplation—and brutal murder.

Christmas Eve, 1176. Brother Maurice, monk of Fairmore Abbey, awaits the night prayer bell. But there is only silence. Cursing his fellow brother Cuthbert’s idleness, he seeks him out—and in the darkness, finds him brutally murdered.

Summoned from London to the isolated monastery on the Yorkshire Moors, Aelred Barling, clerk to the King’s justices, and his messenger Hugo Stanton, set about investigating the horrific crime. They quickly discover that this is far from a quiet monastic house. Instead, it seethes with bitter feuds, rivalries and resentments. But no sooner do they arrive than the killer strikes again—and again.

When Barling discovers a pattern to these atrocities, it becomes apparent that the murderer’s rampage is far from over. With everyone, including the investigators, now fearing for their lives, can Barling and Stanton unmask the culprit before more blood is spilled?

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About the Author

E.M. Powell’s historical thriller Fifth Knight novels have been #1 Amazon and Bild bestsellers. The King’s Justice is the first novel in her new Stanton and Barling medieval murder mystery series. She is a contributing editor to International Thriller Writers’ The Big Thrill magazine, blogs for English Historical Fiction Authors and is the social media manager for the Historical Novel Society.

Born and raised in the Republic of Ireland into the family of Michael Collins (the legendary revolutionary and founder of the Irish Free State), she now lives in North-West England with her husband, daughter and a Facebook-friendly dog.

Find out more by visiting www.empowell.com. You can also find him on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads.

Spotlight: The Memory of You by Jamie Beck

Meet Steffi Lockwood the Heroine from Jamie Beck’s The Memory of You

Thank you so much for inviting me to talk about Sanctuary Sound, I'm Steffi Lockwood. I admit, it is strange to be back in my sleepy hometown after spending so much of my youth wanting to escape to something bigger and, in my mind, better. But life in Hartford didn’t live up to my dreams. I wouldn’t say I left because I got attacked, but it was a wake-up call for all the ways that life wasn’t really making me happy. One night while watching my favorite HGTV show, I got inspired to quit my construction job and return home to start my own home renovation business with my childhood friend, Claire, a designer.

While I enjoy the quiet beauty of our small coastal Connecticut town and am happy to reconnect with Claire, my dad, and my brother Ben, my homecoming isn’t all roses and sunshine. Although my mom died long ago, I can’t help but miss her when I’m at my dad’s house on Lilac Lane. I’m also dealing with some kind of brain fog, most likely from the many concussions I’ve suffered, including the last one I got when attacked. Then there’s the rift between Claire and our other dear friend, Peyton. We used to call ourselves the Lilac Lane League and were the closest of friends. I really relied on that sisterhood (having only brothers, myself). Now I’m trying to remain neutral, but that’s not easy when I have to live and work with Claire, and she’s still brokenhearted because her ex ran off with Peyton. But the biggest regret that follows me around town has to do with memories of Ryan Quinn, my high school sweetheart—the greatest guy in the world that I was dumb enough to ghost in college.

Like I mentioned, when I was younger, I thought I wanted a bigger life. I didn’t want to be like my mom, who married and died young without ever seeing anything of the world. I wanted adventure, and to get that, I had to break free from town and from Ryan. Fast- forward to now, when his mom just hired me to convert her porch to a family room. I didn’t know she needed to expand her house because Ryan’s marriage imploded and he’s just returned from Boston with his young daughter, Emmy. Let me tell you, ours was not a pleasant reunion. I did my best to apologize and be polite, but there’s only so much shaming I can take before I push back. Still, I’m not the same young girl I was back then and I’d love a chance to make amends with Ryan. His daughter is a real spitfire who makes me laugh, too.

Whatever happens with Ryan, I know I can take care of myself and make a success of this business, especially once this stuff with my memory heals. If I can also help my friends repair their relationship and win Ryan’s forgiveness, too, I’m going to try. At the very least, I can be the kind of friend to his daughter, Emmy, that his mom was to me when I needed one. Wish me luck!

Summary

Steffi Lockwood has survived more than most. Recovering from an assault, she returns to her coastal Connecticut hometown to rebuild her life the best way she knows how: with her hands. But starting a remodeling business with one longtime friend puts her in the middle of a rift with another. Worse, being hired by her ex-boyfriend’s mother forces her to confront old regrets.

Public defender Ryan Quinn wasn’t shocked when his wife left him, but he was floored when she abandoned their daughter. With his finances up in the air, the newly single dad returns to his childhood home in Sanctuary Sound. The last person he expects, or wants, to see working on his family house is Steffi Lockwood—his first love who shattered his heart.

Although Steffi and Ryan are different people now, dormant feelings rekindle. But when Steffi’s secrets begins to surface, will it bring them together…or tear them apart for good?

Excerpt

“I do understand, Emmy. Better than you think.” Steffi took the partially folded tarp and snapped its final fold on her own, then crouched to Emmy’s eye level. “I wasn’t much older than you when my mom died. I missed her so much it felt like the whole world turned into a dark black hole. Most days I wanted to jump right through that hole and follow her to heaven. I was so angry that she left me like that, even though she couldn’t help it. But I kept all those feelings tight inside, like a ball right here.” Steffi pointed at Emmy’s stomach. “Holding all that stuff inside hurt, but it made me feel strong. It seemed better than crying, for sure. Then a girl named Claire moved in across the street. She was very sweet and sporty, and I liked her right away. I was lucky because she was patient with my moods. And at the end of our street was another girl our age, Peyton. Peyton was popular, but it turns out she was kind of lonely, too, for other reasons.

“Anyway, somehow that summer we all started spending time together. We gave ourselves a name—the Lilac Lane League—and we started a journal, because Peyton liked to write. We wrote down our dreams and the things that made us mad, and the things that made us laugh. Our crushes, first kisses, all that stuff. Little by little, that knot in my stomach unwound because my friends made me less lonely. That’s how I know the fastest way to feel better is to make a new friend.”

“You’re my new friend.” Emmy’s voice sounded small and shaky.

“I am your friend, but you also need a friend your age. I know you miss your old gang, but try to make one new friend here, too. I promise there are nice girls. I grew up here, after all, and I’m nice.” Steffi smiled and brushed some of Emmy’s curls off her face.

Ryan decided to enter the conversation now, before Emmy broke down in front of Steffi or put her in a more difficult situation. He exited through the kitchen door and crossed the partially framed porch to get to the yard. “Hey there, ladies.”

Emmy snapped her gaze at him, and he saw the panic in her eyes. His daughter’s fear of him speared his chest like a sword. He’d failed at his marriage, and his daughter was paying the highest price. He couldn’t fail her, too. He dropped to his knees and opened his arms. She flew into them in a heartbeat.

He hugged her and swayed, like he’d done when she was so much younger. Steffi quietly retrieved her toolbox and took it to her van.

“Emmy?” Ryan asked once they were alone. “I’m sorry this is such a hard time for you. I want to help you, but I don’t always have all the answers. I do know one thing, though. You can’t call people names and expect to make friends.”

She cried against his chest, each tear falling like acid raining on his heart. “Oh, sweetie, it’ll be okay. We all make mistakes. The important thing is to apologize and try to learn from it.”

“You always say that,” she muttered into his shirt.

“Because it’s the truest thing I know.” He kissed her head.

“So why can’t you and Mom apologize and make up?”

He hadn’t expected that question, although maybe he should have. “It’s not that simple.”

“You always say that, too.”

If a conversation with her took this much work at this age, he could barely imagine dealing with her in her teens. “You’re all dirty from helping Steffi. How ’bout you go inside and clean up before dinner? I need to talk to Steffi for a second. Then I’ll come in, and we can figure out how to apologize to Katie Winston.”

Emmy nodded while swiping her arm under her runny nose. “Okay.”

She wandered into the house just as Steffi came back from the van to get the rest of her personal things. He stood to speak with her. “I heard part of what you said to Emmy.”

“I know you don’t want me to speak for you, but I just—”

“It’s okay. Thank you for making her feel like she can confide in you. I should’ve listened to you the other day.” He crossed his arms and blew out a long breath. “I’m in over my head doing this on my own.”

“You’re not on your own. You’ve got your parents. But even if you were, I know you can do it. She loves you. She wants to make you happy and proud.”

He nodded, although he knew he was screwing it all up.

“Well, I’d better take off. Benny’s expecting me for another training run.”

“You guys are disciplined. I haven’t had a chance to get in a good workout in three months. Pretty soon I’m going to be too soft.” He patted his gut. Granted, he was still pretty fit. He could probably keep up with Steffi for a few miles, anyhow.

“I’m sure your mom would watch Emmy if you need to hit the gym or the mean streets of Sanctuary Sound.” She tipped her head, grinning. “My brother might even like some male company now and then. He gets sick of my singing.”

Ryan laughed. “Well, you were good at a lot of things, but singing wasn’t one of them.”

“You didn’t used to complain.” She hit his arm.

He grew quiet for a second, remembering the many times he’d listened to her terrible rendition of Lifehouse’s “You and Me” in the car or on the patio. “No, I never did mind those private concerts.”

The air between them turned sweet and thick with fond memories. Holding hands, soccer footwork challenges, the first time he’d copped a feel, and the light in her eyes when he had. The images almost made him want to take hold of her hand again; his heart beat with that hot desire like it had at seventeen.

“Dad!” Emmy called from the door, breaking the spell.

“You’d better go,” Steffi said with a wistful smile before she turned and walked back to her car.

He watched her go and waited … waited … Just before she got to her van, she peeked over her shoulder at him again, and everything seemed a little bit brighter.

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About the Author

National bestselling author Jamie Beck’s realistic and heartwarming stories have sold more than one million copies. She’s a 2017 Booksellers’ Best Award finalist, and critics at Kirkus Reviews, Publishers Weekly, and Booklist have respectively called her work “smart,” “uplifting,” and “entertaining.” In addition to writing novels, she enjoys dancing around the kitchen while cooking as well as hitting the slopes in Vermont and Utah. Above all, she is a grateful wife and mother to a very patient, supportive family. Fans can learn more about her on her website, www.jamiebeck.com, which includes a fun “Extras” page with photos, videos, and playlists. She also loves interacting with everyone on Facebook at www.facebook.com/JamieBeckBooks.

Spotlight: Dangerous Exes by Rachel Van Dyken

Isla Turner's Top Ten Reasons To Stay Away From Jessie "Freakin" Beckett

I like control.

And I think arrogant cheating men are the devil.

Its why I cofounded Dirty Exes PI, to pin down scoundrels with the tip of my stiletto heel.

My names Isla and I have a confession to make.

I think football players are sexy.

This poses a problem since enemy number one just happens to want to take down my entire company with his massive quarterback hands. Did I mention he has massive hands already? Stupid, who likes big hands anyways? Not this girl!

He wants to destroy me.

I want to end him.

I never lose.

Besides, I've come up with a fool proof plan, I'm a woman on a mission, a woman who likes order, and lists, so I've conjured up a list of ten reasons Jessie Beckett is the absolute worse (I may have been drinking wine, but it was the only way to power through).

10. His eyes crinkle when he smiles. I hate it. It's distracting and I think he does it on purpose just to appear friendly to the elderly. He's satan in sheeps clothing.

9. He has too many abs. I know it seems an unusual thing to be upset about, but theres just too much muscle? It's...disgusting. When he's shirtless I look away and I pray. You know, for his digestive system, theres only one way you get that much muscle, protein shakes, gross.

8. He helps orphaned children. I think it's a ploy for attention, theres no way it's genuine.

7. He's too competitive, which means you always have to have your A game.

6. His kisses are too, passionate (trust me I hate that I even know) it's like you're the sole focus of his entire world which would be fine if you weren't getting kissed on camera in front of hundreds of thousands of Patriots fans!

5. He's arrogant. So. Arrogant. The guy doesn't even need words, he just gives off this smug look and sea's of people part or just pass out completely.

4. His megawatt smile makes my face hurt. No botox in that forehead, it's all huge and ready for the next picture op.

3. He's secretive. Which makes him sketchy, he doesn't want people prying and he thinks I'm the biggest one of them all!

2. His pantry is pathetic, no color, nothing exciting, or fun, and his cereal is all, well dont get me started on his cereal. I actually took care of this point, but it still makes my eye twitch.

1. He had the best fake proposal I will probably hear. Ever. Which just makes him the ultimate bad guy, who does that to a girls heart? When she knows full well it's not real? He's a horrible, horrible human being and I can't wait for everyone to see what I'm talking about when they read Dangerous Exes!

Summary

Isla made one teeny little mistake. Now she and her PI company, Dirty Exes, are being targeted by one seriously angry and furiously sexy ex-quarterback. Jessie freakin’ Beckett. But there’s no way some NFL superhunk is going to take her business away. If only he didn’t make her so hot—and bothered.

Jessie wants payback for a ruined reputation. His plan? Top secret. His hard-to-hide arousal for Isla? Not so much. Especially when they let down their guards and sneak a kiss. Like any juicy scandal, it goes so viral, so fast, that only a good lie can combat the bad press. Mortal enemies in a fling? No way. Um…this is love!

Actually…could it be?

Isla’s not faking it. Jessie can’t. As the game of let’s pretend gets real, Jessie forgets all about revenge. That’s the problem. His plan is already out of his control. Now it could undo everything they’ve been trying to build. Coming clean may be the only thing that can save it.

Excerpt

I was a planner.

I had one Erin Condren planner for work, and another for home and recreational activities like my biweekly running and yoga sessions.

I even mapped out my meals on the front of my fridge in different-colored chalk for each day of the week. I’d never faltered in my routine, I never forgot to highlight, to color code. It was my life.

Until Jessie.

He was the wrench you throw in the perfectly good engine, causing it to sputter to its death.

I picked up the binoculars again, despite Blaire’s heavy sigh. “He’s just … staring right back at us. Leaning against his stupid Tesla like he owns the world. Why is he even driving a Tesla?”

“Why are we mad about his car again?” Blaire asked in a bored voice.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Don’t you have a date with your perfect man-bun-wearing millionaire hotel-empire-owner slash bartender?”

“I love that you actually included the slash.” Blaire laughed. “And yes, yes I do.” She walked over to me and jerked the binoculars from my death grip. “Give it a rest, he’s just trying to get into your head. He’s still pissed about everything that was leaked to the press.”

“That wasn’t our fault and you know it.” I put my hands on my hips. “That was his blood-sucking wife trying to make us and him look bad.”

I’m a professional.

I’m in control.

Breathe in and out.

Everything is fine.

I’m co-partner of one of the premier PI companies in Hollywood.

I’m the Beyoncé of catching cheaters with their pants down.

Everything.

Was.

Fine.

“Right.” Blaire nodded slowly. “But in the end it just made him look stupid in front of the entire world—in front of a world that he’s trying to make a better place through all of his charity endeavors, which means, even though he’s not a terrible person, everyone now thinks he is.”

A headache pulsed behind my temples, I rubbed my head and tried to think of a solution. It’s what I did. I fixed things. I fixed broken marriages, relationships, and if a client was too far gone and in a free fall, I handed them a safety net and made it better.

Yet every time I thought of Jessie Beckett I either wanted to inflict violence on his person, or just … huh, I guess all I really wanted was to fight him.

I was tall.

He was muscular.

I would lose.

He would laugh.

Plus it would mean touching him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” Blaire grinned.

“You’re still here?” I said, confused.

She shoved me toward the door. “Go talk to him, throw up the white flag, and move on. Thanks to the news, we didn’t get the short end of the stick and have a client load that’s going to force us to take on another employee.”

I sagged a bit. “Right, you’re right. Okay, I’ll just tell him it’s over. How hard can it be? He has to be bored out of his mind anyway. He’s been there all day.”

Blaire smiled and then gave me an encouraging nod before walking to her car. I gulped at Jessie and stared him down, all six foot four of him.

There were so many things wrong with him as a human that I was offended just thinking about them.

For one, his eyes were too knowing, like he’d already done a search on every single part of your body that responded to male touch and memorized it just in case he got the chance to corner you.

His light eyes against tan skin, dark hair that was a bit longer in the back curling at the ends and making a girl think about giving them a tug.

And don’t even get me started on his muscular build.

It said one thing, in bold colors above his head, that he put physical perfection above all else and wanted everyone else to not only know it, but comment about it, appreciate it—he basically had a big giant freaking “You’re Welcome” sign hovering over him. And it irritated me.

It irritated me that when I’d tried to get close to him during our investigation, he didn’t play into my hands as easily as I was used to with most of our targets.

And to be honest, it stung a bit that when I dumbly threw myself in his face in order to distract him from Blaire—he looked at me like I was a sad excuse for bait. I’d never had a guy react to me in that way, typically it was easy to distract them, tempt them to default to their cheating tendencies, catch them on camera, and be done. But Jessie … Jessie hadn’t even blinked in interest—if anything, I annoyed him. Which in turn annoyed me, made me try harder to push his buttons, until he relented and we became friends.

He gave me another small wave.

I steeled my gaze and made the slow, painful walk across the street.

From friends.

To enemies.

In one final swipe.

Bastard.

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About the Author

Rachel Van Dyken is a Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and #1 New York Times bestselling author known for regency romances, contemporary romances, and her love of coffee and Swedish fish. Rachel’s also recently inked a deal for her Wingmen Inc. series—The Matchmaker’s Playbook and The Matchmaker’s Replacement—to be made into movies.

A fan of The Bachelor and the Seattle Seahawks (not necessarily in that order), Rachel lives in Idaho with her husband, a super cute toddler son who keeps her on her toes, and two boxers. Make sure you check out her site, www.RachelVanDykenauthor.com, and follow her on Twitter (@RachVD).

Spotlight: Never Let Me Fall by Abbie Roads

Seeing is believing…

Thomas Brown can’t see color, but he can see people’s true souls. His abilities allow him to work with criminal investigators and deliver justice to families of the wronged. And he’s starting to accept that his life will forever be in black and white…

Then he encounters Helena Grayse, and everything changes. She brings vibrant color to his world, and he brings acceptance and belief to hers. But Helena’s past is quickly catching up with her, and Thomas is in the crosshairs.

As an enemy hidden in plain sight threatens their every move, they’ll have to rely on their love to beat the darkness.

Excerpt

Across the endless sea of gravestones, Thomas spotted a canopy erected to protect the mourners from the elements. The fabric flapped and snapped in the wind. A metal grommet hitting one of the legs made the endless clng, clng, clng noise. The sounds grew in volume, became unnaturally loud. He reached up to cover his ears. But before he could get his hands into place, his vision winked out. Gone. Blackness.

He just stood there. Frozen. Not from fear, but from acceptance. He was blind, and he should be freaking out. But then, blinding himself had been something he’d contemplated in his darkest moments. He’d always thought blindness would grant him an odd sort of relief. No more gray existence, no more seeing the shadow of death. Ignorance really could be bliss, right? The only thing that had kept him from following through was not wanting to be dependent on anyone for anything.

Light flashed in his dark vision like far-off lightning. His sight blinked back on. Everything was the same. But everything had changed.

He still stood in Sundew Cemetery, but it was as if everything around him had faded into the background and a spotlight gleamed on a woman in front of him.

She stood no more than fifty feet away, a beacon of light, a burning flame that he couldn’t look away from.

Her body was bundled against the cold, her thick, black coat zipped up over her mouth with the hood pulled down over her forehead. The tiny bit of skin he saw was the palest of—his mind searched for the name of the right color—pale peach. Her skin was pale peach. Pale. Peach.

Holy motherfucking son of a bitch.

He saw color. Color. She brought vibrancy to his gray existence. And she carried no shadow of death. Not even a wispy hint. If love at first sight existed, he loved her for these gifts.

At this distance, it should be impossible to see the color of her eyes, but they were gold and shining right at him, locking him in place with their brilliance, their luminescence, and some ethereal quality that made him think of purity and perfection.

Call it instinct, call it pheromones, call it instant visceral attraction—his dick went hard.

“Thomas? Are you all right?” The question he’d been asked too much lately punched him in the head, breaking his attention on her.

Sound clicked back on. He heard the canopy flapping and the metal clanging. Almost as if his body was working in slow motion, he turned his head, absorbing a world that was alive with vitality for the first time. He felt like a kid who’d just learned to name colors. Brown grass. Green canopy. Red scarf.

Audie stood outside the canopy wearing the same getup as last night. Only now Thomas could see the hat and scarf and mittens were bright red.

Thomas raised his hand in a gesture somewhere between wait-a-minute, a wave, and what-the-hell. Audie smiled, his wrinkled face conveying a wordless understanding. That was why Thomas always liked the guy. No explanations, no empty phrases needed. And it didn’t hurt that he looked like Gandalf.

Thomas turned back to the woman, but she no longer stood there. She was walking away, carrying an aura of color with her. The sky above her glowed a sweet, watery shade of blue, the grass under her feet a subtle tan, and the grave she passed was a pinkish granite. Holy shit. It was all so beautiful, but then his gaze locked on the erotic sway of her hips.

Without warning, his mind flashed him images of her in his bed and him being mesmerized by her golden eyes, her matching gilded hair, and all that creamy, warm skin surrounding him, holding him tight. Without ever seeing her face, he knew she would be beautiful, so lovely that it would hurt to gaze anywhere but upon her.

There was the before her part of his life. Now there was the after her part of his life. And he couldn’t let her go. He needed her in every sense of the word—emotionally, physically, sexually. He wanted to be underneath her, on top of her, inside her. He wanted to surround her, swallow her, take her into himself and keep her there. Forever. Always. A-fucking-men.

He ran after her, opening his mouth to shout her name, but… He didn’t know her name. Yet he felt like he should know it. And know her. She was his other piece. She completed him. Healed him. Made up for all his deficiencies.

“Thomas? What are you doing?” Pastor Audie yelled. The concern and worry riding along the old man’s tone was more effective than diving headfirst into one of the granite markers dotting the cemetery.

What was he doing? Chasing after some random woman in the cemetery who obviously had no reaction to him. If she’d felt even an ounce of the connection he had, she wouldn’t be walking away.

He stopped running. But the urge to keep going pushed him forward a few more steps. He grabbed on to a gravestone to keep from following her. His heart rammed against his sternum so hard it threatened to knock him to the ground. It hurt—physically hurt—to watch her walk away, taking color and beauty with her, leaving him alone inside his gray existence once more. It felt like she’d amputated half of his soul, leaving him with the phantom pain of what could have been. A cold heaviness settled over him. He felt as dead as the stone he clung to.

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Spotlight: ​Claiming My Place by Planaria Price

Claiming My Place is the true story of a young Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust by escaping to Nazi Germany and hiding in plain sight.

Meet Gucia Gomolinska: smart, determined, independent, and steadfast in the face of injustice. A Jew growing up in predominantly Catholic Poland during the 1920s and ’30s, Gucia studies hard, makes friends, falls in love, and dreams of a bright future. Her world is turned upside down when Nazis invade Poland and establish the first Jewish ghetto of World War II in her town of Piotrkow Trybunalski. As the war escalates, Gucia and her family, friends, and neighbors suffer starvation, disease, and worse. She knows her blond hair and fair skin give her an advantage, and eventually she faces a harrowing choice: risk either the uncertain horrors of deportation to a concentration camp, or certain death if she is caught resisting. She decides to hide her identity as a Jew and adopts the gentile name Danuta Barbara Tanska. Barbara, nicknamed Basia, leaves behind everything and everyone she has ever known in order to claim a new life for herself.

Writing in the first person, author Planaria Price brings the immediacy of Barbara’s voice to this true account of a young woman whose unlikely survival hinges upon the same determination and defiant spirit already evident in the six-year-old girl we meet as this story begins. The final portion of this narrative, written by Barbara’s daughter, Helen Reichmann West, completes Barbara’s journey from her immigration to America until her natural, timely death. Includes maps and photographs.

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About the Author

After graduating from Berkeley and earning a Master’s Degree in English Literature from UCLA, Planaria Price began her career teaching English to adult immigrants in Los Angeles. She has written several textbooks for University of Michigan Press and has lectured at over 75 conferences. In addition to her passion for teaching and writing, Planaria has worked with her husband to save and restore over 30 Victorian and Craftsman homes in her historic Los Angeles neighborhood. Claiming My Place is her first book for young adults.

For more information, please visit Planaria’s website at www.planariaprice.com.