Excerpt from Cradles of the Reich by Jennifer Coburn, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Irma had thirty minutes to pour Eduard a nice drink and get him in the right frame of mind. She knocked on Eduard's heavy wooden door several times, reminding herself to install a brass knocker when she lived here. A person could break a knuckle trying to gain the attention of those inside.

Rapping on the door once more, Irma decided to let herself in. In a short time, this would be her home anyway; there was no need for formality. "Hallo," she called, only to hear the clattering of what sounded like pots and pans in the kitchen. "Eduard, is that you?" Irma walked through the entrance and down the hall toward the living room, which adjoined the kitchen. "Eduard?" she called again.

Her hollers were unanswered, though a female voice lowered in volume. Is Eduard listening to a radio show? Irma then heard a woman's whispers and scampering feet. Is Gerda here already?

When Irma made it to the doorway of the kitchen, it took a moment for her brain to catch up with her eyes. Everything looked like it usually did on a Friday evening before dinner with Eduard and his children. The embroidered tablecloth was already laid out; the green glass lamp shone overhead. Then it registered. At the corner of the room, she saw the blur of a woman's back, her long brown braid lifting off her burlap coat as she went through the open cellar door.

Excerpted from Cradles of the Reich by Jennifer Coburn. Copyright © 2022 by Jennifer Coburn. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.