Still, Ernst thought those brown shirts and chocolate-colored shorts quite fetching. He’d only dated much older men. I had hoped that he would end up with a nice girl, in the end. Loving men was dangerous, and I would have shielded him from that danger if I
READ MORE →A tiny scrap of red silk stuck out from under the flap of the box, and I stroked it with my fingers. One of Ernst’s handkerchiefs. I’d taught him to sew. We’d hemmed many handkerchiefs together, always red and always, when he could afford it, silk.
READ MORE →After all this waiting my book is finally on Amazon! I thought I’d let people see what other authors are saying about “A Trace of Smoke:” “A compelling and human story that captures brilliantly the atmosphere of Berlin during the rise of the Nazis.” — Anne Perry,
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