I’m delighted to be able to share an extract as one of today’s stops on the blog tour for The Secret Pianist’.
Sisters. Traitors. Spies.
When a British RAF Whitley plane comes under fire over the French coast and is forced to drop their cargo, a spy messenger pigeon finds its way into unlikely hands…
The occupation has taken much from the Cotillard sisters, and as the Germans increase their forces in the seaside town of Boulogne-sur-Mer, Gabriella, Martine and Simone can’t escape the feeling that the walls are closing in.
Yet, just as they should be trying to stay under the radar, Martine’s discovery of a British messenger pigeon leads them down a new and dangerous path. Gaby would do anything to protect her sisters but when the pianist is forced to teach the step-daughter of a German Commandant, and the town accuses the Cotillards of becoming ‘Bad French’ and in allegiance with the enemy, she realises they have to take the opportunity to fight back that has been handed to them.
Now, as the sisters’ secrets wing their way to an unknown contact in London, Gaby, Martine and Simone have to wonder – have they opened a lifeline, or sealed their fate?
Readers can’t get enough of USA Today bestselling author Andie Newton:
‘A brilliant tale of resistance, sisterhood and dangerous secrets. Andie Newton is a master storyteller!’
Sara Ackerman, USA Today bestselling author of The Codebreaker’s Secret
‘If you believe every WW2 story has already been told, think again. This one is special.’
Paulette Kennedy, bestselling author of The Witch of Tin Mountain
Purchase Links
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/47WCr2t
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/3SEGjzL
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3Esf2Iy
Author Bio –
Andie Newton is the USA Today bestselling author of A Child for the Reich, The Girls from the Beach, The Girl from Vichy, and The Girl I Left Behind. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her family. When she’s not writing gritty war stories about women, you can usually find her trail-running in the desert and stopping to pet every Yellow Lab or Golden Retriever that crosses her path. Andie is actively involved with the reading and writing community on social media. You can follow her on X (Twitter) @andienewton and Instagram, or check out her author page on Facebook.
Social Media Links –
(Twitter) @andienewton, Instagram, Facebook.
Publisher links:
One More Chapter:
HarperCollinsUK:
HarperCollins360 US:
Extract-
The sisters have just sent a secret message to London, and they are on edge, but to make matters even more intense and stressful, an unexpected guest has arrived next door, which makes it look like they are collaborating with the Germans.
I woke with a start, and lay staring up at the ceiling with my blanket pulled tightly up to my neck. I felt the German’s presence in our home, even though we were separated by a wall. I imagined him thinking of us, and wondering what we looked like, as we thought of him.
I threw off the blanket and padded to my doorway, looking blankly to the end of the hallway. Simone stepped out of her bedroom next, her pink peignoir draping her body in folds with layers of nightgown underneath, followed by Martine, hair a muss and pressed to one side
of her head.
Martine jabbed the air. “He’s in there listening,” she said.
“Shh…” I whispered, before waving for them to come into my room, where we could talk without fear of being heard. Martine tiptoed the best she could without making a sound, while Simone took giant floating steps through my door, her peignoir tossing up with her feet.
I closed the door softly.
“What are we going to do?” Martine asked. “We can’t whisper all the time. Can we?”
“No,” I said. “We can’t.”
Simone twisted her hands. “I didn’t think about it before, really think about it, but now it feels so real. Scary. A German living in Aunt Blanche’s apartment.”
“I know, I know,” I said, pacing my room in my bare feet, before facing them as they sat on my bed. “We’ll carry on like normal. It would look suspicious otherwise.” I lowered my voice. “Only no talking about the pigeon out loud, the radio, or anything about rations, and God knows what else we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
“Espionage,” Martine said. “That’s what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
I sat heavily on my bed next to Martine. “I’m glad you found only one pigeon.” I lowered my voice even more. “I don’t think we’re meant to be spies.”
“I can find another,” she whispered back. “What about the missing pigeons? The Germans are still looking for four others. One of those was ours, so where are the other three?”
“We’ve done our part, even if our bird died or was caught,” I said. “Be glad with what we did, or tried to do. There’s only so much we can control, Martine. The rest is up to God.”
Martine turned to Simone for a reaction but she was staring at her hands. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you.” Martine moved to the window. “So today is an average day. Except I’d like to leave early. The less time I’m at home with the German next door the better.”
“Yes, let’s leave early for the shop,” I said, but then closed my eyes with a heavy sigh. “But I can’t. I have lessons with Lauren this morning.”
“Why don’t you tell the commandant our German guest should teach her,” Martine said. “He plays the piano.”
“I plan to.” The last thing I wanted to do was visit the commandant’s house again and teach that bratty Lauren how to play the piano. No French child should behave that way. Shame on her mother. “Do me a favor and remind me when the war is over…”
“Remind you of what?” Simone asked, and my eyes popped open.
“To visit Lauren’s mother,” I said.
Why?” Martine asked.
“To tell her what a spoiled brat she raised,” I said, “and the only reason I agreed to teach her daughter piano was because her husband had threatened a mother and child. She needs to know. And I want to be the one to tell her.”
Antoinette’s voice lifted from her garden and we got up to look out the window, pulling the curtain back.
“I’ll remind you,” Martine said as we squished in together, faces to the glass. “As long as you remind me to visit our miserable neighbor.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
We watched Antoinette chase her chickens around her garden, laughing with a basket full of brown eggs hooked on her arm before traipsing back inside into her warm home, complete with smoke billowing from her chimney from a morning fire.
Extra wood was expensive on the black market. Only the bad French who received rewards or the Germans could afford to keep a constant fire and their homes impeccably warm.
“You don’t want to know,” Martine answered.
Although we shouldn’t be acting any differently, we still tiptoed through the house and mouthed or whispered our words. I put my coat on near the front door, getting ready to go to the commandant’s house.
“I’ll be a few hours,” I said, my voice booming through the quiet house
like a horn, causing Martine to bolt from her chair in the kitchen and Simone to spill her tea down the front of her peignoir.
“Stop yelling,” Martine mouthed, but I motioned for one of them to hurry up and answer back, like a normal conversation. Her lips pinched before she realized what I meant.
“See you in a few hours,” she finally said back. I kept motioning for more words, something that sounded ordinary, when she added, “Have a good day!”
I rolled my eyes—in our attempt to sound normal, we sounded suspicious.
Simone scooted from her chair. “Don’t forget your scarf.” She snagged a scarf from the rack only to pull it back because I already had mine on, and besides, he couldn’t see us, so why bother giving it to me? She shrugged, hanging it back up. “Since you’ll be that way, can you pick
up our bread? I heard the fresh loaves are pulled out nearer to noon.”
“I’ll pick up the bread,” I said, projecting my voice.
Outside, I took a moment to button my coat, wondering how much more time would pass before we’d be able to act like ourselves again without the threat of someone hearing us, informing on us, or treating us badly. I felt the captain watching me from the window, but when I
turned around it was Martine.
“What are you doing?” she mouthed through the glass.
I walked away, looking over my shoulder and checking for neighbors, before looking at Antoinette’s house and her closed curtains where the slightest ripple of movement could be seen.
With thanks to Andie Newton, Rachel at Random Resources and One More Chapter for the opportunity to participate in the tour.
Previous reviews of the author’s earlier releases can be found by typing in the search bar at the top of the page.
Pickled Thoughts and Pinot 