Mostrando resultados por autor "Shari J. Ryan" en Todas las categorías

Nazi-occupied Prague, 1942: Amelia is hiding in her closet when flashlights blind her and she’s captured by the SS. Out on the cobblestone street, her heart shatters as her mother is shot before her eyes. She is shoved onto a freight train with hundreds of others—hours pass as they travel in darkness. Arriving in a concentration camp, Amelia fears for her life when she is led to a block by a soldier. He is her enemy, yet he secretly passes her a piece of bread; an act that saves her.

They warned me the first few days of motherhood would be exhausting, but I’m so deliriously happy, I don’t mind one bit. Smiling, I glance at the baby blue blanket I crocheted. I’ve never knitted a thing in my life, but I was determined to make my newborn his very first blanket—a one-of-a-kind welcome-home gift. I tug the rocker closer to me, unable to resist peeking at my beautiful baby boy. I pull back the blanket. It feels like my heart flatlines. He’s not here. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my limbs turn to ice. “Where is he?” I cry, my whole body trembling, the wind knocked out of me.

“Women and children to the right. Men, to the left,” I once said. From 1942 to 1944 I was what some called a Jew killer. Though, I have never hurt a soul, I was responsible for separating Jewish families, ensuring they would never see each other again. Those who were sick, were sent to their death...by me because I was forced to follow the enemy. The war stole my right of beliefs, my goals for a future, my left arm, and the love of my life.

Sitting bolt upright, Ella rubs at her eyes and concentrates on the music. Is she dreaming? She’d fallen for Luka’s voice the first time she heard him singing on the street corner near her house, with his kind smile and joyous laugh. He was her first love, and the pain of being torn apart still slices at her. He’s alive. But even as hope swells in Ella’s heart, terror threatens to swallow it. Luka is Jewish. If he’s here, he’s in grave danger—even more than Ella faces for sneaking into the ghetto to see him back in Warsaw… But she will never regret it.

In the mountains of Bohemia, Mila, a Romani, works as a maid for an aristocratic Jewish family. They have no idea that she and their son Ben, with his amber eyes and kind smile, are madly in love—it is expressly forbidden. In the arms of one another, Mila and Ben try to forget that their village is close to the German borders—and could be invaded at any second. But as they huddle around a crackling radio, ice runs through their veins as news of the war gets grimmer by the day.

Dachau, 1942. Emilie has been told she's here to nurse evil men. But the first patient she sees in the cold, dark room is hauntingly familiar. Her first love is not wicked. He couldn't be. What is he doing here? Emilie's heart stops as she takes in her childhood sweetheart hunched in a tattered prisoners uniform, the light lost from his face. Her new husband, Otto, said this was a camp for criminals. He should know, he's the doctor. But Danner would never have broken the law.

In Nazi-occupied Poland, Sofia cannot look her father in the eye. Sofia’s mother, her papa’s cherished wife, is Jewish—how dare he work as a doctor for the SS? She cannot forgive him, even if the bargain was made to spare their lives. In the middle of the night, Isaac emerges from a packed train with hundreds of others. Beneath Auschwitz’s barbed wire, the SS decide prisoners’ fates on the spot—and Isaac is chosen to work. Every breath feels like it could be Isaac’s last, so when he sees a beautiful auburn-haired girl peering out of the farm window, it feels like a dream.

Walking to work at the orphanage she was raised in, Halina tries to ignore the imposing gates of Auschwitz nearby. She has one dream: to survive the war and find out who her parents were. But one morning, a Nazi officer with icy eyes blocks her way. He needs a new nanny, and he gives Halina a choice: serve in his home, or be sent to the camp....

When Matilda’s childhood sweetheart, Hans, is in danger, she doesn’t hesitate to hide him in her attic. Protecting him from her parents and the soldiers downstairs, she smuggles him food and communicates in whispers. For months, they exist by candlelight. But how long can they survive?

Paris, 1943. German soldiers drag me out onto the cobbled street and push me toward the waiting truck. I force myself to face forward as tears stream down my cheeks. If I look back, they’ll know. I can’t let them find my baby girl....

The cattle car is dark, except for the light filtering through the boarded windows. There are too many of us to count, crushed up against each other. The air is stuffy, carrying the scent of our terror—none of us know what awaits us when this train stops. I cling onto Mama’s hand and Nora, my twin sister, clutches Papa’s.

Germany, 1943. Jordanna cries out desperately to her mother, tears spilling down her cheeks. She is being torn one way, her parents another. And in Jordanna’s terrified, wide brown eyes, there is only one question: Will I ever see you again?

My best friend disappeared twenty years ago. I thought she was dead. But today I’ve received a message that makes my heart stop. It says it’s from Izzy. And she’s blaming my new husband for her disappearance… I stare at the email in horror. I’ve only just managed to put what happened to Izzy behind me. My life is so different now. I have two perfect children, and the perfect husband at last.

I’m in shock. This is impossible. Because earlier this evening when the Smiths left for their fancy charity gala—Lara in high heels and a floor-length gown, Corbin in a tux—they never mentioned a baby. And they certainly didn’t show me this nursery room, up in the eaves of their sprawling, beachfront mansion.

"You will lose your memory." That's what a doctor told me at just 29 years old. My headaches and exhaustion weren't from overexertion like I thought. It was more. A lot more. Despite my unimaginable challenges, I found love at a time I needed it most. Layne, a rising star and popular frontman, was unknowingly singing life into my soul through his allusive lyrics. I lived and breathed for the mesmeric sound of his voice. Kismet led us to a kind of love anyone would die for.

Very few people can say they were born inside a concentration camp during the Holocaust. Disease, starvation, and much worse, prevented most prisoners from surviving. I shouldn’t be alive. As a child, I didn’t know my life was different from that of others. I had nothing to compare it to, and I had no insight about the day I was born...until the moment I overheard the truth. In a split second, I became a stranger to my reflection, my name, and my reason for being. I felt utterly alone in a foreign world, but that changed when I met another person who was lost, like me.

Elizabeth, a young Jewish woman, is training to be a nurse in Pearl Harbor, where the turquoise ocean laps the golden sand. When she meets Everett, a Hollywood actor who has given up his glamorous life to join the Air Force on the tiny island, the breath is knocked out of her. Over a sweltering Hawaiian summer, they fall madly in love, Elizabeth getting lost in Everett’s emerald eyes. But one fateful day, sirens rend the air and warplanes fly over the harbor. Elizabeth and Everett cling to each other as the ground shakes and smoke suffocates them.

Blytheville, South Carolina - have you heard of it? Neither had I, until today. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and I’ve been given the ultimatum of either living on the street in Boston or accepting a job transfer down to this blank spot on the map. On day one of my new Southern lifestyle, I land myself in the hospital and meet Austin, one of the two nurses on staff. I would consider this guy absolutely gorgeous if I were into the whole tanned, smoky blue eyes, and messy sex-hair look, but I’m...not. Okay, I’m lying. If Austin wasn’t my type before, he definitely is now.

I just wanted an easy summer job.... That didn’t happen. Now, I’m in a living nightmare as I work alongside this monster of a man with mesmerizing emerald eyes that look at me inappropriately every time I see him. To add insult to injury, he has a tan I just want to lick, and a butt worth drooling over every time he purposefully walks by me. But, he's an asshat, and looks are everything. I mean, aren't. LOOKS. ARE. NOT. EVERYTHING. Why do I have to keep reminding myself of this? This is a story of little restraint, too much desire, questionable actions, and the best sex I've ever had.

While flying home after a phone call that left me heartbroken, a row to myself would have been ideal. Instead, I was unknowingly sitting shoulder to shoulder with a strikingly attractive single dad and ex-Marine. I could have pretended not to notice the man, but there was something familiar about him. It didn't take long before I pieced together where I knew him from or why he was back in my life.