Post-war troubles heighten when our
hero’s life is in danger and all he holds dear is at risk.
In the Orchards of
Shadow and Light
The Shadow, #1
by Arthur McMaster
Genre: Historical
WWII Suspenseful Spy Romance
In the vast
tapestry of war, outcomes are never certain. Its demands are endless, its
sacrifices countless. Yet for one couple who will share war's burdens and
dangers-a daring American OSS agent and a French Resistance leader-its
conclusion will transform both lives forever.
From the opening
line, author Arthur McMaster, a retired foreign intelligence officer, makes
clear: "No families escape the devastation of war." What follows is
storytelling you won't be able to set aside. Amid the apple orchards and
farmlands of war-ravaged Western Europe in the final years of World War II, we
follow thirty-five-year-old OSS operative Claire Skiffington and French
Resistance leader Jacques Berlangier through perilous clandestine operations.
Eluding Vichy collaborators and Wehrmacht checkpoints, Claire's cover is that
of a simple pastry girl, but this emissary is far more than she appears.
Years after the
Nazi menace has passed, in the small Breton village of Combourg, Claire and
Jacques are in love and determined to build a life together. Their days and
nights in Paris work to make it all magical. But someone wants Jacques dead.
Why? And how will one estranged family member unlock the source of danger?
Brimming with
suspense and rich in character development, In the Orchards of Shadow and Light
features beautiful imagery and finely drawn characters. Written by former
DIA-CIA analyst and award-winning writer Arthur McMaster, In the
Orchards of Shadow and Light is the first in a trilogy based on
espionage, romance, and suspense. Combines elements of "The Rose
Code," "The Nightingale," and "All the Light We Cannot
See" to create a rich atmosphere, original characters embroiled in real
historical events, dangerous romance and compelling drama. This story
represents one man and one woman's perilous commitment to service in the face
of danger: one couple's commitment to overcoming treachery and blazing a future
together.
What readers
are saying:
“Finely crafted
with an artisan's touch, there is an unseen history beneath the lives of those
trying to survive. Precisely researched, McMaster adroitly drops the reader
behind the lines of clandestine operations. The grim destruction of Europe is
brought to life with beautiful imagery and reconnoitered characters-every bit
as interesting as those of Ken Follett's Eye of the Needle and The Key to
Rebecca. This is a fine novel no one should pass up.”
— William
Walsh, author of Lakewood (TouchPoint Press)
As you begin
this book, prepare yourself for reading a writer who knows the details of
espionage so well they feel like second nature, rather than research. Prepare
yourself for lush, lyrical prose and the historical span of an Ian McEwan
novel. This is a spy story, a love story, and a family story set largely in
France, during a war, but McMaster balances the deprivations of war with
domestic arts, the healing chores of mother women who bake stolen oranges into
cakes, somehow find tea to serve, and harvest the slenderest sprigs of tarragon
and chervil, plucked from their gardens, and stored in delicate clay pottery.
This is a white knuckle thriller written by someone with all the sensibilities
of a poet.
— Susan Tekulve, author of In the Garden of Stone
**Releases June 2nd – Order Now!!**
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Near eleven, Jacques’s truck approached the barn. There, he and Claire saw
two men in black coats putting a third into their vehicle. The barn behind them
roiled in flame. From the look of it, the generator had exploded, or maybe they
had simply set off some explosives. Jacques and Claire sat far enough back to
observe what had happened but not close enough to be spotted.
“Goddamn it.”
“My God, Jacques,” she said.
“They are taking him.” Their own luck had held. Thomas’s had not. “And he had
been so clever. The boot heel. The shaving cream.”
“We have to go. Immediately!”
Both watched, though only seconds more, until the Germans drove off with their
prize, the barn behind them collapsing in flame. “Did you think he knew about
Combourg?” Jacques asked her.
She had never mentioned it.
They’d only met Thomas at the Laurent farm, in Épiniac. “As I recall, nothing
was ever said to him about Combourg.”
“He would not know of the
monsignor, Roger’s uncle,” she added. They had kept that secret. Claire rubbed
at the palm of one hand, kneading it with the knuckle of the other.
“No. And he does not know our
real names,” Jacques said. “But Roger Laurent could know.”
Jacques took her hand. “Thomas is
lost, but what harm Roger could do yet is considerable. If he gives up Roger.”
“Will he? Where will they take
him?” she asked as Jacques worked the truck around, knowing he was leaving
behind his apples and, more importantly, his cover for travel.
“Saint-Lô, I would think. Some
Nazi headquarters.”
As Jacques wrenched the truck
sharply onto the road toward home, where the deeply distressed Claire would be
able to arrange for her return to Bodney, a bottle scooted out from under her
seat.
“Look at this,” she said, pulling
it up from the floor. “It’s his Calvados.” Attempting to hold back tears.
“Keep it. We will finish it
tonight in his honor with a tip of the hat to our friend.”
Passing near enough to the
Laurent farm en route to Combourg, with relative safety still several
kilometers away, Jacques pointed to the farmhouse. It was risky, but he had to
take a look, remaining well back from potential observation. There, they were able
to make out, standing near the entry door, the one thing they had hardly dared
hope to see—a dark green motorcycle.
What Roger’s return portended was
unclear, but given what had happened to Thomas, that outcome was surely the
best they could have hoped for. Jacques slowed the truck and looked to the
darkened house, their hearts racing.
“Oh my God. He’s come back.”
Jacques touched her hand.
She thought to say something,
leaning into him. “Let’s go home, Jacques. Please!” Then added, “You did well,
getting us through it all. So brave.”
“You and me,” he said. “We did.
Together.” He touched her face tenderly.
In that moment, Jacques and
Claire leaned toward each other for a necessary hug, and then a kiss. A kiss of
relief. A kiss of what might yet be.
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