In November 1918, the Armistice agreement to end the Great War or what we now call World War I (because, of course, there was another) was signed on the 11th day of the 11th month at the 11th hour. The following year, President Woodrow Wilson deemed the day as one to remember. Over the years, 27 states adopted recognition of Armistice Day and by 1926, the US Government decided to make it a national observance. In 1938, it become official for each year. In 1954, President Eisenhower changed the name to Veteran's Day to reflect all those who served in any war as part of the United States Armed Forces. November 11 is now well established as Veteran's Day with ceremonies, parades, and observances throughout the nation. I myself will sell Poppies as part of the local American Legion Auxiliary.
As an Army sergeant's daughter, the granddaughter of veterans (both the Great War and World War II), and with a family tree featuring many veterans, I often write about veterans – and their issues. My uncles and many cousins also served.
During this month, I invite readers to enjoy my veteran
related stories. The first, At Face Value, is not yet available but the others
can be found in many places, all as Ebooks and several in paperback or even
hardback. All of my fictional heroes are not veterans but to me, all veterans are heroes in real life.
Upcoming from World Castle Publishing, At Face Value….
Blurb:
His little niece calls him “Uncle Beast” after her favorite fairytale. Marine veteran Nicholas Reilly, severely scarred from surviving a roadside bomb in Afghanistan, calls his isolated home “Beast’s Lair”. He’s reclusive, suffers from PTSD, and has a lonely existence until he meets Maribel Barbier, who goes by Belle. He rescues her after her car slides off the road during an ice storm and brings her home. Unlike any other woman, Belle sees the man behind the scars. Their attraction is there from the first night and deepens as they realize this is something more than either one expected. He battles PTSD but with Belle at his side, Nicholas learns to live a little more each day. They have more to overcome together than his PTSD but he comes to believe what Belle tells him – scarred or not, it’s just a face, it’s not the man. Together, they seek a future and a life where looks don’t matter at all.
When Iraq war veteran Devlin rides his motorcycle into Gracie’s life, he’s everything she’s not—wild, wicked, and more than a little crazy. Opposites attract because good girl, college student Gracie wants more of this bad boy. She invades his personal space, takes liberties no other woman has dared, and although he struggles with PTSD, she sticks by her man. He teaches her to live a little more and she helps him battle his demons. If there’s any chance the shattered combat veteran can find his way back, Devlin’s Grace can help him find it.
Excerpt:
His twisted smile shattered her heart. “Yeah, pretty much. Ever since I got back I’ve walked in the fiery pits, burned for my sins, and tormented myself probably more than any demon ever could. I’ve hated every day, hated each night, and sometimes wondered why I bothered to stay alive.”
“Devlin…”
“There are names for being this fucked up,” he said. “PTSD’s one of them.”
When he broke off, Gracie opened her mouth to say something, but Devlin quoted what she thought was the Bible but wasn’t, not quite.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” Devlin intoned, “I will fear no evil, for I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley.”
As he spoke he broke away from her. Devlin came to his feet and stood, as remote as if he were on an unknown island. He laughed, without mirth, a bitter dry hoot reminding her of rattling bones. “I don’t remember who quoted it first, but I understood it. Later on, I adopted it as my motto. I have to be the meanest – otherwise, I’ve no doubt the devil will claim me as his own and damn me to hell, a worse place than the one I’ve made for myself.”
https://www.amazon.com/Devlins-Grace-Lee-Sontheimer-Murphy-ebook/dp/B00JJ5ASF4
Pride – one of the seven deadlies…unless it’s your name.
Living in California, working undercover is still surreal for Louisiana native Pride Slattery. He stands out – because of his unusual name, his military service in Iraq, and even his disability. Although he’s never quite adjusted to Los Angeles, he remains in place because he’s lost any enthusiasm for the future. One day is just like another and he’s schooled himself not to care. Things change, however, when he rescues a stolen purse for a beautiful woman, Sabetha Hill, who turns out to be from back home. He risks his heart for the first time in years as events propel him closer to an unexpected future. When he’s billed as a hero at a traffic accident, Pride is unmasked as a federal agent and danger looms ahead for both him and his lady. Someone will live, someone will die, and whether or not there can be a happy ending rests in Pride’s hands.
Excerpt:
Mistake. Some hot shot political pundits and candidates deemed the Iraq conflict one. In Slattery’s world, it wasn’t, not the way the experts deemed. .
Failure. Too many armchair soldiers, the kind his dad’s generation had called ‘garret troopers’ and wannabees said Iraq had been a failure, an exercise in futility. It hadn’t been.
If Slattery accepted either as fact, then his service in the sandbox, his sacrifice meant nothing and he refused to acknowledge the possibility. Losing his left leg from the knee down had to matter. It needed to represent something. If it didn’t, then it made a difficult thing much harder to deal with. That, piled on top of his inability to sleep well and the nightmares reviving his memories in country became overwhelming. His lingering PTSD provided frequent struggles and inner combat so Slattery couldn’t bear his service being labeled either mistake or failure. Just couldn’t.
Bad enough that Southern California had an abundance of palm trees and sand, both too reminiscent of the Middle East for his tastes. Or that he was out of his element here, missing the hardwoods and pine forests of his native South. His worn boots stood out among the designer sandals and his button down shirts against the bright colored tee shirts with sarcastic sayings. His slow drawl echoed odd among the upscale accents and clipped tones. He refused to eat sushi, wasn’t overly fond of salad and preferred a good steak to seafood.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FPQMDAI/
When Marine Will Nichols returned from Afghanistan with some serious scars, he retreated from almost everything and everyone. His late night radio talk show is the one place no one can judge him by his appearance but he lives lonely. One of his regular callers, however, Samantha Callahan, manages to catch both his fancy and affection. No matter how he feels, though, he refuses to meet her because he fears she’ll reject him. But stubborn Samantha doesn’t give up easily and cares enough to take a chance because where there’s Will, there’s a way.
Excerpt:
His guts twisted into knots made from barbed wire. “You don’t know anything, honey.”
“I do, Will. You’re not the only person in the world with a few cyber skills. I looked you up and I know you’re a Marine. You were stationed in Afghanistan and you were hurt in a roadside bombing.”
Despite her soft tone, she held him in thrall. Will listened, trapped and pinned in place. A flash of pain seared his soul, the agony almost as great as when he’d been burned. “You can’t know all of it,” he said, schooling his voice to the same quiet pitch. “I don’t know what you’ve read or who you’ve talked to but I guarantee you have no idea.”
“Will, I know you suffered terrible burns,” she said. “I’ve known for awhile now. I knew before I came over and cleaned your apartment.”
As soon as she named the Judas who betrayed him, he’d track and kill the bastard. Through numb lips, he asked, “Who told you?”
“I read about it online, first,” she said. “Then after you wouldn’t meet me, I talked to people including Sam, your friend who’s the station manager. I called the station trying to get in touch with you and talked with Taylor. After that, I asked around. I realize you think you’re the invisible man but more people than you think know you. You’re kind of a celebrity with your show and all. But a guy who runs around wearing a hood all year and a ski mask in the winter tends to stand out.”
Each new sentence stabbed into his consciousness the way a sharp knife gutted a fish or eviscerated a rabbit or squirrel. Everything he thought secure hadn’t been. His privacy didn’t exist. It was a farce, a phantom. If he could melt into the pavement, he would. “Thanks for destroying my fantasy,” he said. Although he meant to be calm, his voice cracked with emotion. “I bet you used to get off telling kids there’s no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny.”
https://www.amazon.com/Wills-Way-Lee-Sontheimer-Murphy-ebook/dp/B00HPZTU7M
A death in the
family and a divorce brought Caroline Reaburn back to the mountains of West
Virginia, to her hillbilly heritage and Coaltown. Prepared to start over in a
familiar place, Caroline never expected her first love, Neil McCullough, to
come back into her life. Twenty years earlier, Caroline’s family moved away,
breaking the relationship and both their hearts.
From the first time Caroline meets Neil again, it's obvious that they still
have a connection. But Neil has scars, inside and out, and carries a lot of
emotional baggage. There’s no doubt about the love they share but they have
many obstacles to overcome, everything from Neil’s PTSD to a community tragedy.
It’s a long, rocky road but if anyone can manage to find happiness, it’s Neil
and Caroline.
Excerpt:
Beside her, Neil quivered, eyes focused on the billowing black smoke and orange flames ahead. She undid her harness to scoot closer, taking his hand in hers without any response. The acrid smell of burning poured into the car despite the windows being closed. Caroline dialed nine-one-one on her cell although she figured other drivers had too, then turned toward Neil, worried.
“Neil?” she said, remembering what he’d shared, how he had received almost fatal third-degree burns after the military vehicle he had been riding in, came across a roadside bomb. He said he suffers from PTSD but until now I never saw any evidence of it. Caroline wanted to soothe and calm him, but she had no idea what to do or how to do it. Acting on instinct, relying on their old bond and her deep feelings for him, she said his name again. “Neil, Neil, you’re all right. You’re here and I’m here and we’re fine.”
He made another guttural sound and her heart shattered for his pain. If she could, Caroline thought she would draw it from him and endure it in his stead. “Neil, sweetheart, come out of it, please. I need you.”
She did, on many levels, but the immediate urgency was to reach him, to break through his torment and bring him to the present.
https://www.amazon.com/Coal-Black-Blues.../dp/B01LWQ72RF/
When Lorraine Ryan decided she wanted to pursue her long
standing dream of flight, she sashayed out onto the local air strip in 1925.
Although most of the fellows heckled her, Guy Richter, a former World War I
flying ace, offers to teach her. He nicknames her "Angel" and before
long she's flying with Guy.
The two are also falling deep in love but Guy is a haunted man. His demons
include his war service, the death of his only brother in an accident the
previous year, and the Valkyries that he evaded in France who trail him in the
hopes that they can complete his destiny.
Set against the backdrop of the Roaring Twenties in St. Joseph, Missouri, Guy
and Angel struggle to enjoy life, each other, and to find a way through his
personal hell for a happily ever after life together
Excerpt:
Guy smiled without mirth. “I’ve got a few old war wounds that still kick up sometimes. When my plane went down, I busted my right leg pretty bad, and sometimes when it’s damp or rain’s coming, it bothers me. I got shot up, too, and sometimes I get a little piece of metal or glass working up to the surface.”
“That must hurt,” Angel said as she made a sympathetic face.
He nodded.
“Let me see.”
Across from them, Pop rolled his eyes behind Guy’s back, but she ignored it. After a moment of hesitation, Guy pulled off his flight jacket and unbuttoned his blue shirt with red stripes. He slipped his right arm out of it so she could view his bare shoulder outside of the A-shirt he wore. She could see the raised, puffy area and touched it with one finger. Guy winced.
“That’s it.”
“Can I do anything to help it work on out?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. I’ve heard some fellas cut it on out, but it would just hurt all the more,” Guy said. “It’ll do.”
Loath to touch it again because it would increase the pain, Angel put her hand on the top of his shoulder, away from the shrapnel. Beneath his A-shirt, she saw the raised white scars from a terrible burn, some places still almost crimson. Angel touched one, her fingers caressing the roughened, damaged skin.
“Did this happen when your plane crashed, too?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Guy said in a sharp tone warning her to shut up.
Without another word, he put his shirt back on and then the jacket. She watched as he pulled a flask from his hip pocket and drank. Angel caught the smell of homemade whiskey, rank and almost harsh, but she didn’t say a thing. She wanted to fuss over his old hurts, but she knew he wouldn’t like it. She ached to say something comforting or soothing, but she couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t seem like pity.
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B013F5AU2O/
December 7, 1941 changed everything in high school teacher Bette Sullivan’s small town world. The attack on Pearl Harbor brought war and a new Army base just outside her community. Soldiers arrived from everywhere including Private Benjamin (Benny) Levy from Brooklyn, New York. Their chance meeting creates an instant attraction, and soon they’re a couple. As their families are touched by war and the day draws closer for him to ship out to the front, their intense love spirals to new levels and they can only hope for a happily ever after, someday
Excerpt:
These were hers, personal and private. Her great-granddaughter’s face fell flat so she added, “I’ll read you parts of them, though. After I’m gone if you still want them, you can have them and read them then. For now, though, these belong to me.”
Bette unfolded one of the letters, handling the thin paper with care. Her old eyes scanned the familiar handwriting, still neat and precise although faded. Before she shared anything, she wanted to read them over herself.
30 October 1942
Dear Bette,
Here I am, on ship with about a thousand guys somewhere in the North Atlantic. Still don’t know where we’re going but we got other ships all around us. Some of them got trucks, tanks, all kinds of stuff with motors so I guess you can figure who they’ll want to fix them when they break down. I’m no sailor so thank God I didn’t go in the Navy. I’ve been so seasick I thought I’d die for awhile, couldn’t even get out of my bunk but I guess I’ve got my sea legs now cause I’m not so bad. Don’t worry, though, by the time you get this, I’ll be back on dry land. We’re all writing letters like crazy but they told us we won’t mail them til we get wherever it is we’re headed.
I miss you, baby, so much. I think about you all the time and remember all the good times we had together. We’ll have more when this war ends, I know. I hope you’re doing all right, doll, I really do. I can’t wait to get the picture you said you’d send me but I can conjure you up in my mind anytime I want. I dream about you almost every night.
I guess Ma got pretty upset when she found out I shipped out but she loves hearing from you so keep writing her, please. She’s afraid she’ll be a double Gold Star Mother but me and you know it won’t happen. I plan on coming home from this war.
Light a candle for me at church, will you? If you get time, light another for David too.
I’ll write more later – all I got right now is time.
Love,
Benny
https://www.amazon.com/Bettes-Soldier-Patrice-Wayne-ebook/dp/B00VSWVT7M/
Coming December 2023 from The Wild Rose Press:
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