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Tell Me I'm Safe

Tell Me I'm Safe

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A centuries-old vendetta is back. And they want his boy dead.

George Hartmann's past life in Ancient Greece has returned to haunt him even though he doesn't remember the threat. Unfortunately, bad guys are coming after him anyway. His young son is the first target.

When a violent break-in interrupts idyllic family life and leaves the child in peril, George must act fast -- before it's too late.

And when he finally begins to recall what happened thanks to a hypnosis session with a local psychologist, he's left with more questions than answers as the odds against him stack higher and higher.

Will George be able to protect the ones he loves and find lasting peace?

Fans who enjoy both suspense and sentimentality
will devour this pulse-pounding, sexy drama set against the backdrop of charming, modern-day Ithaca, New York and featuring vivid memories of Ancient Ithaki, Greece.

Tell Me I'm Safe is the first book in the Ithaca Falls series and the introduction to an ongoing family saga. It was originally published as Ithaca’s Soldier in the George Hartmann Series.

Publication date: December 12, 2019.

About the Ithaca Falls Series:

The Ithaca Falls series chronicles the close-knit Hartmann and Davies family as they return to their cozy hometown of Ithaca Falls, New York after having lived in Washington, D.C. Little do they know what trouble awaits.

This suspense-filled story, anchored by the deep affection between George and Alessandra, reveals how the connections we share can ground us during even the most difficult times as we endeavor to learn what we're made of.

Join the family you'll feel like you already know as, together, they explore the meaning of life beyond what lies on the surface and fight against all odds to keep each other safe.


Look Inside

Prologue
Where It Hurts

GEORGE

I’m sleeping soundly, dreaming of my dad for the first time since he died, when he tells me, emphatically, “it’s time to wake up, George. Be ready.”

I do wake up, abruptly, and am instantly alert. My pillow is wet with tears. I wipe my eyes and shake my head as if to shake off the haze which surrounded me in my dream.

It’s the middle of the night. All is quiet in the house other than the gentle hum of the dishwasher I started before going to sleep. I can see soft, falling snow out our large bedroom windows. It makes for a serene scene. But something’s happening. I can feel it. I instinctively reach across the bed to my wife. She's there, curled around her pregnancy pillow and sleeping soundly. A few seconds later, I find out why I was woken up.

Ethan screams. It’s an agonized scream like I’ve never heard from him before. It reminds me of screams I heard during tense special ops missions in war-torn countries. The kind of screams I’m not supposed to talk about. The kind of screams I’d hoped to never hear in a sleepy little town like Ithaca Falls. I certainly never dreamed I’d hear one from my child in my family’s own home.

He’s upstairs and I’m down. Leo is up there too, in their shared room. My rational brain tries to make sense of things and I wonder if Ethan’s having a bad dream. My body knows better. I leap out of bed, throwing the covers off in the process. I bolt through the bedroom door nearly ripping it off the hinges. I run down the hallway, gaining momentum. I clumsily slam the sides of the walls with my outstretched hands as I go, knocking down framed photographs and artwork. My socked feet slide as I round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and the banister groans as I grab it and heave myself upwards. I don’t have anything on me. No gun. No knife. Not even a blunt object. There isn’t time.

Ali’s waking up slowly and she calls out to me from what seems like a far distance, “My God, Georgie, what are you after?”

Lady stirs from her spot on the rug beside the front door and cocks her head to one side to listen. Cautious woofs give way to full volume barks as she realizes the urgency of the situation. She scrambles up the stairs behind me.

It feels like we’ve all been thrust into slow motion. I’m conscious of everything around me. I hear the grandfather clock ticking downstairs. I see the light above the garage flickering at the next house down the road, and I notice the way it makes an angular shadow in the snow.

Ethan’s voice is muffled now. I can tell he’s sobbing. Every hair on my body stands up on end as I reach the top of the stairs and see that my little boy’s bedroom door is closed. It was open when we put him to bed. As I rush to the door, I hear shuffling and banging around, and then, a grown man. A stranger. A deep, sinister voice in my child’s bedroom.

“Daddy, Daddy!” my baby screams.

“Ethan, son, I’m coming in to get you.”

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