Buried Appearances

What if everything you ever thought to be true was a lie? 

Nazi!

A deliberate taunt to provoke her.

Skylar wasn’t a Nazi. She hadn’t even been alive during the Second World War. Yet, she was bullied and insulted with that word. All because of a grandfather she never knew.

A letter informing her of the discovery of her grandfather’s remains changes everything.

If her grandfather really was a Nazi, why was his body recovered in an area notorious for being a Nazi killing ground?

Skylar jets off to Holland to find out.

Things are not always what they seem.

a very heartfelt tale completely dripping in history. It’s not a light fluffy tale, but it’s one that I could barely put down.

~ Pure Jonel

Heartwarming and some sadness, but it’s a good read. Have tissues ready while you read!

Fabulous and Fun

This was a very good book. A mystery if you will. And a very good one. It keeps you guessing almost until the end.

Mismatched Bookends

Riveting!! Like a detective searching for a killer, Skylar Dewitt starts her research in Holland, Michigan and ends up the Netherlands.

Amazon Reviewer

After I hang up the phone, I sit and stare at my computer for a while. I still have no clue how to carry on. I am completely and utterly stuck. I am at a loose end and don’t know what to do. I do have one promise, however, that I made to Griet before I left Michigan that I have to fulfill. I head off to the Wertheim park to fulfill that promise. 

I stand at the Auschwitz memorial in the park and try to hold back my tears. It is so breathtakingly sad here. The smashed mirrors dominating this tiny park are heartbreaking. The memorial epitomizes the dichotomy that is the war and Holland. On the one hand, I am standing in front of a heart wrenching monument to the Dutch victims of the Holocaust that died in Auschwitz but in the background I hear the tram rumble by, dogs barking as they run around the grass of the park and children playing soccer on the other side of the fence. 

The Dutch continue with their lives as I slowly kneel and place white tulips on the memorial. I have one tulip for each member of Griet’s family that perished in the camps. As I stand, I can’t help but let the tears fall. I don’t know how Griet has survived such sadness, such heartbreak. 

“Gaat het me u?” 

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