Dennis and Greer is a nonfiction love story in letters and journals between 2 college students during the Vietnam era. (This is nonfiction that reads like fiction)
A true story that encapsulates the horrors of war and the innocence of young love.
Buried in a trunk for fifty years, this long-forgotten tale, told through letters and journals from the war-torn Vietnam era, has been resurrected.
College students, Dennis and Greer, met and felt a spark just before moving to different states. Their witty correspondence through letters conjured a desire to meet again, but Dennis tried to keep his distance; duty is more important than love.
As the two embarked on their journey into adulthood and navigated their relationship against the backdrop of war, they were writing a love story that will span the test of time.
Excerpt
Dear Greer (poetic, huh?)
This letter is written upon wrinkled
paper, which (as you are an English major), you will realize is symbolic of
suffering and hardship. From having gotten to know me you will recall that I am
never a whiner so I will let the paper rather than the ink bear what ill
tidings are to be borne. You may well ask why I have devoted the introduction
of this epistle to such trivia. As in conversation, I find it necessary to fill
the air with something while I think of something worthwhile to say. While you
write “redundant” over the second “something” in typical gung-ho English major
fashion, I will try to find something worthy enough in content and syntax to
place before your well-read, though brown, eyes.
Not having succeeded in that
undertaking, I will, being forced, continue amid trivialities and redundancies.
How are you? I am fine. (The latter is a comment rather than an answer.) My
present residence is in Carlin, Nevada (as a glance at the envelope, also
wrinkled, will verify—redundancies are tricky) and I receive my mail at P.O.
Box 835. May I say that I had a very pointed reason for mentioning the fact?
Out of fear that you will say within
someone’s hearing that this letter is much bubble bath, as indeed its first two
paragraphs are, I will turn to serious considerations. I long to have the
outpourings of your keen mind and kind heart splashed upon my untidy mind (see
above) like cool water in the sweating face of a Nevada summer laborer. In
other, less revealing words, my first order of business is to insist that you
write me a letter. I will even, in consideration of your talent, pay you by the
word in typical professional fashion.
I dedicated this summer to ridding
myself of fecund thoughts and to the corralling of vagrant impulses, to
secluded study and spiritual growth. I’ve had my preliminary interview and I
will be leaving on my mission in September. I have departed into the desert to
prepare for my calling, to live with the wild beasts and eat locusts and honey.
Please realize that your letters will be a tremendous help to me. I think of
you often.
Memory, hither come,
And tune your merry notes;
And,
while upon the wind
Your
music floats,
I’ll
pour upon the stream
Where
sighing lovers dream,
And
fish for fancies as they pass
Within
the watery glass.
-William Blake
Sincerely yours,
Dennis
About the Author
ASU graduate, Molly Gould, lived in the wilderness for 28 days when she was 16 years old (she’s your go-to-girl in the zombie apocalypse). She now confines herself indoors with the AC full-blast in her sunny sate of AZ. Occasionally, she’ll brave the scorching heat with her husband and four children.
When Molly inherited a treasure of vintage journals and letters, she was swept away by the love story contained within those writings. She couldn’t keep Dennis and Greer to herself, so she began transcribing and Dennis and Greer was born.
In 1944, twenty-three-year-old Tess DeMello
abruptly ends her engagement to the love of her life when she marries a
mysterious stranger and moves to Hickory, North Carolina, a small town
struggling with racial tension and the hardships imposed by World War II.
Tess’s new husband, Henry Kraft, is a secretive man who often stays out all
night, hides money from his new wife, and shows no interest in making love.
Tess quickly realizes she’s trapped in a strange and loveless marriage with no
way out.
The people of Hickory love and respect Henry and see Tess as
an outsider, treating her with suspicion and disdain, especially after one of
the town’s prominent citizens dies in a terrible accident and Tess is blamed.
Tess suspects people are talking about her, plotting behind her back, and
following her as she walks around town. What does everyone know about Henry
that she does not? Feeling alone and adrift, Tess turns to the one person who
seems to understand her, a local medium who gives her hope but seems to know more
than he’s letting on.
When a sudden polio epidemic strikes the town, the
townspeople band together to build a polio hospital. Tess, who has a nursing
degree, bucks Henry’s wishes and begins to work at the hospital, finding
meaning in nursing the young victims. Yet at home, Henry’s actions grow more
alarming by the day. As Tess works to save the lives of her patients, can she
untangle her husband’s mysterious behavior and save her own life?
I absolutely love Diane Chamberlain’s work! I’ve
been a fan for years and again she didn’t disappoint. The beginning of the book
starts out fast with Tess being engaged to a doctor who’s away doing research.
After a trip to the big city leads to a big mistake, one that changes Tess’s
life forever.
A bit of historic contemporary women’s fiction
for you and this is one amazing book! I can’t wait for Diane’s next book to
come out, but check this one out!
About the Author
Diane Chamberlain is the New York Times, USA Today and Sunday Times
bestselling author of 25 novels published in more than twenty languages. Some
of her most popular books include Necessary
Lies, The
Silent Sister, The
Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes, and The
Keeper of the Light Trilogy. Diane likes to
write complex stories about relationships between men and women, parents and
children, brothers and sisters, and friends. Although the thematic focus of her
books often revolves around family, love, compassion and forgiveness, her
stories usually feature a combination of drama, mystery, secrets and intrigue.
Diane’s background in psychology has given her a keen interest in understanding
the way people tick, as well as the background necessary to create her
realistic characters.
Diane was born and raised in Plainfield, New Jersey and spent
her summers at the Jersey Shore. She also lived for many years in San Diego and
northern Virginia before making North Carolina her home.
Diane received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in
clinical social work from San Diego State University. Prior to her writing
career, Diane worked in hospitals in San Diego and Washington, D.C. before
opening a private psychotherapy practice in Alexandria Virginia specializing in
adolescents. All the while Diane was writing on the side. Her first book, Private
Relations was published in 1989 and it earned the RITA award for
Best Single Title Contemporary Novel.
Diane lives with her partner, photographer John Pagliuca, and
her sheltie, Cole. She has three stepdaughters, two sons-in-law, and four
grandchildren. She’s currently at work on her next novel.
Book Title: Beauty of the Beast (Fairy Tale Retellings, Book One) Author: Rachel L. Demeter Genres: Adult, Historical Romance, Fairy Tale Retelling Release Date: March 15, 2017 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Pick up Beauty of the Beast for just $2.99
(March 31st only)
Experience the world’s most enchanting and timeless love story—retold with a dark and realistic twist.
A BEAST LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF HIS PAST
Reclusive and severely scarred Prince Adam Delacroix has remained hidden inside a secluded, decrepit castle ever since he witnessed his family’s brutal massacre. Cloaked in shadow, with only the lamentations of past ghosts for company, he has abandoned all hope, allowing the world to believe he died on that tragic eve twenty-five years ago.
A BEAUTY IN PURSUIT OF A BETTER FUTURE
Caught in a fierce snowstorm, beautiful and strong-willed Isabelle Rose seeks shelter at a castle—unaware that its beastly and disfigured master is much more than he appears to be. When he imprisons her gravely ill and blind father, she bravely offers herself in his place.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
Stripped of his emotional defenses, Adam’s humanity reawakens as he encounters a kindred soul in Isabelle. Together they will wade through darkness and discover beauty and passion in the most unlikely of places. But when a monster from Isabelle’s former life threatens their new love, Demrov’s forgotten prince must emerge from his shadows and face the world once more…
Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera, Beauty of the Beast brings a familiar and well-loved fairy tale to life with a rich setting in the kingdom of Demrov and a captivating, Gothic voice. Beauty of the Beast is the first standalone installment in a series of classic fairy tales reimagined with a dark and realistic twist. Disclaimer: This is an edgy retelling of the classic fairy tale. Due to strong sexual content, profanity, and dark subject matter, including an instance of sexual assault committed by the villain, Beauty of the Beast is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
~ Isabelle bravely takes her papa’s place ~
Quite a while later, as Isabelle relaxed and soaked in the hearth’s warmth, she found herself nodding off to sleep.
Her mind detached from the stress of the past few days and receded to another time and place. She recalled her journeys with Papa when she’d been little more than a girl. All the villages they’d passed through; all the faces they’d seen. She thought of reading fairy tales beneath a bejeweled sky, of leaning against a mountain of crates as Papa pointed out the constellations and their eternal stories—
Rattling seized her attention and ruptured her thoughts. She peered at Papa, who was carefully examining his teacup. Not with his sightless eyes, of course—but with wandering fingertips. The same impressive coat of arms engraved the fine proclaim; Papa ran his weathered fingers over its surface, clearly in awe of the raised gold decorations and studded gems. The thing must have cost a small fortune. Indeed, she’d never beheld such finery. Even the wares Papa had once sold paled in comparison. The faded brim of his top hat hung low and covered his glassy eyes.
Then her mouth went dry as he slipped the teacup inside his coat. Has he gone mad—or simply grown that desperate? It was completely unlike Papa to steal. How could he—and after being shown hospitality?
Her outcry startled him. He half leapt from the chair—and Isabelle watched in horror as the teacup tumbled out from the coat. It rattled and rolled onto the stone ground, shattering into a million pieces.
A gloved hand broke through the darkness, quicker than a lightning strike. The hooded figure emerged from the shadows and seized Papa by his cravat. His other hand clasped a branch of flickering candles. The illumination flashed across the dark folds of his cloak, soaking him in a pool of light.
“Stealing from me, are you? Breaking my family’s keepsakes?” A sharp jerk forced Papa to his feet. The rough movement sent the top hat tumbling from his head and onto the stone floor. Papa’s waxen features melted into an expression of horror and confusion.
Her heart pounding, Isabelle lunged forward and frantically cried out, “Let him alone! It was an accident. Don’t you see that you’re frightening him?”
“Good.” The simple declaration threw Isabelle into stunned silence. Papa called out for her as the man strode from the sitting room, his solid legs eating up the ground in swift, decisive strides. Mon Dieu, he was physically dragging Papa through the castle. This isn’t happening. It cannot be…
“Stop it! Stop it now—you monster!” Isabelle picked up her skirts and frantically chased after them. Parts of the castle were dark and unkempt, causing her to trip several times over wayward pieces of furniture. Her heart violently pounded in her ears. The man moved impressively fast; between his agile stride and sweeping cloak, he almost appeared to float through the corridors. Plopping onto the stone floor, his dog gave up trying to keep pace. Dust motes rose and fell in midair like ashes, obscuring her vision. She followed the branch’s illumination, watching as the candlelight threw prisms along the walls and floor.
“Please, monsieur. Have mercy, I beg you! He didn’t know any better. He’s not in his right mind. He would never—”
“No one steals from me.” His low voice echoed in the darkness, steady as a war drum.
Isabelle felt herself descending. She ducked as she crossed a low archway, where she was met with a steep flight of stairs. A mouth into Hell. The ceiling lurked unusually low and was strung with cobwebs. Isabelle hiked up her skirts, which were now a filthy mess, and raced down the decayed steps. The hooded figure kept a swift pace while she desperately pursued Papa’s frightened cries.
Plagued by the darkness, Isabelle tripped and crashed down the stone steps. Pain cascaded through her body, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her skinned knees and elbows throbbed, her heart pounded, her head burned. She spared a moment to catch her breath as she struggled to her feet and resumed her vain quest. Papa’s muffled pleas and the sound of slamming bars ripped at her very soul.
The dank dungeon was nearly black. She slowed her pace, moving toward a beam of light at the far end. Rats the size of kittens scurried across the stone floor and filled the darkness with their terrible squeaking. Her heart thudding, Isabelle rushed through the maze of cells, following Papa’s voice and that flickering light. Chains and crude-looking objects littered the ground—torture devices from a past age, she realized with a shudder.
She found them.
Papa was grasping the rusted bars; disoriented and frightened, he was murmuring incoherent pleas. Tears fell from his sightless eyes, though Isabelle knew he fought to restrain them. The branch of candles sat in front of the cell, its wavering light illuminating his terrified expression.
“Forgive me. I have wronged you when you showed my daughter and me hospitality and mercy. Please, monsieur!”
The man towered before him, silent and still. His long arms remaining crossed, he stood with his lean torso straighter than a broadsword. His hood was drawn back, though Isabelle couldn’t see his face from her angle.
“Papa, I’m here,” she said beneath the weight of a strained breath.
“I-Isabelle?”
Not sparing a moment, she dashed over to the cell—and the man slowly rotated into sight.
Except he resembled more of a beast than any man she’d ever seen.
Isabelle clamped both hands over her mouth and forced her eyes away. The sight burned—and the inferno in his gaze only kindled that fire.
Half of his face looked monstrously twisted; charred mounds of puckered flesh distorted the features beyond any recognition, draining him of all traces of humanity. Those heaps of burned, leather-like skin gleamed and glistened in the candlelight. His hairline receded on the left side of his face and slanted high above a shriveled ear.
Under the severe scarring, his age was more or less indistinguishable—though Isabelle guessed he wasn’t a day under thirty-five.
But his eyes were breathtaking. Two brilliant sapphires. There was also a great sadness and anger in those eyes, as if he’d suffered more than his share of original sin. Alas, as she gazed into his eyes, all she saw was blue ice—an endless, arctic landscape of cold desolation.
The man turned away, appearing greatly affected by her stare, and hastily rearranged the hood. His scarred hands trembled as he smoothed down the cloak’s thick folds.
“Release him,” she demanded. “He didn’t mean any harm. I—”
“No one meddles with my family’s possessions. He can rot down here as my prisoner. He ought to count himself fortunate that I haven’t taken his hand.”
“Your prisoner? This... this is a mistake! You must believe me. He’d never—”
A deep, husky chuckle cut through her plea. “Even so.”
“Please. Just let him out.”
“It’s too late for that.” Those words seemed to speak volumes. He exhaled a long breath, and Isabelle watched as it unfurled against the darkness in a cloud.
Silence.
“Why... why are you so angry? Why must you be so hateful? So cruel?”
“If I let him go,” he said at length, “what can you offer in return?” Isabelle couldn’t find her tongue. She wandered directly in front of the cell, almost in a lucid trance, and clasped the cold bars. Papa was huddled in the corner now, coughing and shivering. Guilt, unlike anything she’d known before, pulsated through her. I’m to blame for this. And if Papa stays here, he’ll die well within a fortnight, likely much sooner…
“Get out of my sight.” The man’s voice jarred Isabelle from her inward stupor. She turned to him and stepped forward, raising her chin at a defiant angle. I am not so easily broken or frightened.
I am a survivor.
She scanned her empty, dank surroundings: the cold stone walls, sweeping cobwebs, and blazing branch of candles. Despair encased her. Stark emptiness. She dared to step closer while a faint trace of pity bloomed inside her heart.
They stood centimeters apart. Heat radiated from the man’s body, surrounding her, immersing her. Isabelle vainly searched for softness in him, but only a dark, embittered spirit reached her. She stared up at his towering frame and gestured for him to bow forward. He hesitated, then did as she commanded. Her hands shook, damn her, as she peeled back his hood and met that piercing gaze again.
Half of his face was handsome—devastatingly so. In her twenty-two years of life, she’d never beheld such haunting beauty.
Jet‑black waves, rich and flowing, framed the chiseled lines of his startling features. Stubble peppered the strong curve of his jawline and shadowed a smooth, sculpted cheekbone. The right side of his face was striking, beautiful—a stark contrast to its wrecked counterpart. And within those patrician angles and intense eyes, she encountered his humanity.
His was a face of inconsistencies. Complex. Damaged. Predatory. And more than a bit intriguing.
“I will stay with you,” she heard herself whisper. “In my father’s place.”
“Isabelle—no! I forbid it!”
The man folded long, strong arms across his broad chest. His gaze crawled down her face and settled on the rise of her breasts—planting directly on her silver cross.
“I demand he’s seen by the finest of physicians.”
“Isabelle! Listen to me! I’m an old man. I’m dying. I—”
The man’s dark, strangely erotic voice cut through the cellar, and his eyes whipped back to her own with a startling force. “As my mistress.”
“What?”
“You must stay here as my mistress. For as long as I demand. Perhaps forever.” Forever.
The word rang with a note of finality.
“Please, Isabelle! I beg you. Don’t do this!”
How could I endure it?
“Do as I say and your father shall safely return home.” He waved his cloaked arms with a magician’s delicate grace. “Your father—whatever family you may have—shall want for nothing. A house, clothing, anything they require. You only need to say the word. Your father will be under my protection—under the care of nurses and physicians—until his last breath.”
Isabelle briefly recalled what—and who—was waiting for her back in Ruillé. This fate wouldn’t be much worse. This desolate castle could serve as the perfect hideout. Papa would live in France, free from Raphael’s clutches and in the hands of the world’s greatest physicians…
“How... how can I trust you?” And does he even have the wealth to uphold such a promise?
“You cannot.”
She had faith Papa would send help once his health recovered. Or she’d find a way out, means of escape. In the interim, she would survive this grim castle and whatever horrors it concealed.
Papa would not. The castle would crush him beneath its dark heel in a matter of days.
Isabelle glanced at Papa again, then stared into the man’s brilliant eyes. There, lurking within those expressive depths, she found the softness she’d pursued minutes before.
She sucked in her breath and nodded her agreement.
“It is done.” The man swept backward. “He’s to remain down here till first light. Then our agreement shall be carried out. In the meantime, I will bring blankets and food—”
“But it’s so cold! He—”
“Stole from me while he was a guest in my castle.”
He would not compromise. That much was certain.
“I demand to stay with him.”
“As you please.” He unlocked the cell. “Beyond the dungeon lies a labyrinth. Try to escape, and you’ll be lost forever.”
He tapped the wall with his booted heel. It swiveled, spun, and rotated, sweeping her captor to the other side...
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Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of fourteen years. She enjoys writing poignant romances that challenge the reader's emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.
Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel's passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother would record them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.
Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.
Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.
We have a treat for you! Author Kristina Cook has recently released the first two books in her UNDONE BY LOVE series!
Today we highlight the series and bring it to spotlight.
UNLACED (Undone by Love, #1) From nationally bestselling author Kristina Cook comes an award-winning historical romance set in Regency England--first time in digital! All Lucy Abbington wants is to get through her first London season without losing sight of her true ambition—gaining some informal training in veterinary arts so that she can retire peacefully to the countryside with her beloved horses. Instead, she’s caught up in a whirlwind of balls, marriage proposals, and ton intrigues. Worse, she finds herself irresistibly drawn to her sponsors’ maddening neighbor, Henry Ashton, the Marquess of Mandeville. The handsome, arrogant, sometimes infuriating Mandeville stokes a passionate fire within her that won’t be denied, no matter the consequence. Deep, emotional scars secretly plague Henry, Lord Mandeville. As a result, he’s avoided romantic entanglements at all costs. Only, now he needs a wife—someone from a wealthy, powerful family to further his political aspirations. Instead, he finds himself all but obsessed with the beautiful but unconventional Lucy Abbington—a woman whose passions and wit stir desires he’d rather ignore. And yet…she might just be the one woman who can heal his wounded heart. Lucy and Henry’s heads say no, but their hearts say yes. Will they find themselves undone by love?
UNDRESSED (Undone by Love, #2) --now available! In the course of a day, Colin Rosemoor has managed to lose everything—his reputation, his standing in society, his club affiliation, and the affections of the woman he’d planned to marry. But when Colin enlists the help of his friend, Hugh Ballard, to help him win back his lady—and his honor—a chance meeting with Hugh’s long-lost sister changes everything. Brenna Maclachlan is perfectly satisfied living on the highlan estate in Scotland where she was raised. She spends her days managing the manor, her nights gazing at the stars in her observatory. But when an English earl and his wife appear on her doorstep and convince her that she’s really their daughter, Brenna finds herself whisked off to London where she’s completely out of her element. While most of the ton finds Brenna’s independent streak and headstrong manner wholly unacceptable, Colin finds her refreshing…and irresistible. With Colin’s sister Jane playing matchmaker, the pair find themselves drawn to one another, unable to resist their growing attraction. Will secrets, lies, and circumstances keep them apart, or will they find themselves undone by love?
Kristina Cook is the author of more than a dozen books for adults and teens, ranging from historical and NASCAR romance to paranormal and contemporary young adult fiction (also writing as Kristi Astor and Kristi Cook). When she’s not writing a book or reading a book, she’s probably online somewhere, talking about a book. Kristina lives in New York City with her husband and two daughters, but in the summer months escapes with them to sunny Miami, where she lounges on the beach and teaches creative writing classes at Miami-Dade College.
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