September’s Song by Ryan Jo Summers is an Indie Reads pick #womensfiction #indiereads #giveaway
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    • Dec 12, 2023
    • 6 min read

September’s Song by Ryan Jo Summers is an Indie Reads pick #womensfiction #indiereads #giveaway



Title: September’s Song

 

Author: Ryan Jo Summers

 

Genre: Women’s Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

 

Ivey London buried her husband as a war hero and moved on with her life. Five years pass and she learns of a secret chamber where special soldiers are imprisoned to recover. Further, one amnesiac soldier managed to escape. When her son begins to display unusual behaviors, she goes to investigate. All evidence points to finding her late husband. If it is him, back from the dead, she refuses to give him up again.Keegan London awoke in a hospital cell with no memories. Fleeing, he finds himself in a strange, unknown world, with no one to turn to. Until he finds a friendly Priest who runs a homeless shelter, and he stumbles across the woman who claims to be his wife. While she can fill some gaps in his lost memories, she cannot explain his curious abilities. Pursued by someone determined to get him back, Keegan has few options but to trust the woman who makes his heart fire like a cannon. Ivey has dibs on him, but first they have to uncover who—and what--Keegan really is before they can recover what they had.

 

Excerpt:

 

Ivey drew in another cold breath, her legs already trembling as she struck off the curb and crossed the street. She swung the front door swung open and passed through the lobby. No one was manning the front desk. Perhaps they stepped out for a bathroom break or to steal a quick puff of cigarette? Either way, she scanned her ID and entered the next level. She was in.

 

            It was late and the halls were deserted. Passing work out rooms, she peeked in. They were all empty. Random scones lit the passageway, dimmed for the evening. In the distance she spotted a lighted sign reading ‘stairs’. Just what she needed.

 

            The door creaked as she pulled it open, and she slipped into the dim landing. The plaque behind her read ‘Ground’. Her point of return. Hand gripping the railing, she stepped down the flight to the next level, reading ‘Basement’. It might be the place. She pushed the door open a hair, listening. It was quiet and dark. But there, almost lost in the inky blackness, was still another flight of steps that led down. Easily missed in the dark, was this McKay’s alleged path to imprisonment?

 

            Exhaling, she headed down to see where it led. Stopping at a steel door, this one not having a small window like the others did, she could barely read the plaque ‘Sub Level 1’. It was certainly a secret chamber. Why would a VA hospital need a sub level? A basement perhaps, for storage and such, but the sub level? Well, the stairs ended here. There was also no exit sign and only a single light bulb barely illuminating the landing, so this was not up to code. Which meant is was probably a hands-off no man’s land area. Well, it was what she came to search.

 

            She fingered the knob; aware the other doors had been a simple push open with shiny handles. Again, this one was different. Heart beating, she gasped when it failed to turn. Was it locked? By whom? And why?

 

            Twisting harder, it yielded and she pushed it open. The soft squeaking of the hinges echoed into the dark space ahead. Low moans reached out to her as she left the landing and crept forward. People. There were actual people way down here! And she would just bet their family members did not come down here to visit them.

 

            Curiosity pushed through her trembling fear, and she marched ahead, aiming for the first door. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she felt for the knob. Her fingers explored the cold steel of the door. The knob held. Locked. Whoever was in there was meant to stay.

 

            Excitement coursed over her. McKay was right! My word, McKay was right! She headed to the next steel door, the low moaning urging her on. Each door she tried was locked.

 

            No nurse or aide on duty. That only added to the strangeness of the situation. Though she hadn’t seen them, she knew there had to be nurses or aides upstairs to help any patient who needed attention during the evening.

 

            Finally, she came to a door with no window. This one was different. Trying the knob, it finally gave and she pushed the door open. Rows of filing cabinets greeted her. Slipping in, she closed the door and fished a tiny flashlight from her pocket. She breathed a grateful sigh at the foresight to bring the light along.

 

            Pulling the drawers open, grimacing at the exaggerated sounds, she searched tabs for a recognizable name. Or something that would explain all the unusual things she was finding down here.

 

            Her eyes feel on a file bearing the name she wanted, and she bit back a cry of delight. Reaching for it, she heard a slight jiggle of the knob.

 

            Heart thumping, she snapped off her light, yanked the file out, clutching it to her breast and stepped back to flatten herself against another cabinet. If they came in and turned on a light, she was busted. How would she explain this? Or the file in her hand?

 

            The door slowly swung open and her heart thudded painfully, her pulse racing. A tall silhouette entered, easing the door closed behind him. She could hear his quick breathing as she waited. He stood there, hands hanging at his sides, taking in the contents of the room. His head swung to where she stood and her lips parted. He’d seen her!

 

            “Who are you?’ he asked, his voice low.

 

            If he was one of the doctor’s, why didn’t he just click on the light? He had her. Was it one of the doctors she’d worked under? The voice had a familiar ring. Why keep the room dark? Her knees shook as she studied the profile.

 

            “What are you doing?” he asked again, this time a note of inquisitiveness edged into his voice.

 

            Realization dawned sharper than the brightest morning, piercing her. “Oh my word!” she gasped, hand going to her throat. “Keegan?”

 

            “Yeah.” He immediately responded back. “You know me?” he added after a pause.

 

            She stepped forward, one hand gripping the file and the other bringing her flashlight up. No, her mind told her, no, no, no. This wasn’t real. Somehow, she’d crossed over some line into the imaginary.

 

            Clicking the light on, it illuminated his face, drawn up into a puzzled frown. She stopped just a mere foot from him, tilting her chin up to meet his dark eyes. She licked her lips, then she smiled at him. If this was imaginary, she wanted to stay here forever.

 

            “What are you doing here, Keegan?”

 

            “Breaking in.” He regarded her, his face a mix of concern and bewilderment. “Who are you?”

 

            “It’s me, Ivey,” she whispered. At his hesitation she added, “Ivey London.” When she got no reaction, she continued, her heart plummeting as pieces fell into place in her mind “Don’t you remember me?”

 

“Should I?”

 

“I’m your wife.”

 

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):

 

 

 

 



What makes your featured book a must-read?

 

There is so much at play here! A grieving widow finds her late husband alive. Talk about a shock! The soldier has amnesia and isn’t sure who he can trust. Talk about touch choices! It is so emotional! Add in a sweet young boy and a determined military man chasing after his ‘missing’ soldier. And my favorite character, Father Patrick, who runs a homeless shelter. This man is so resourceful, everyone needs a real Father Patrick in their lives!

 

Giveaway –

 

Enter to win a $25 Amazon gift card:

 

 

Open Internationally.

 

Runs December 5 – December 14, 2023.

 

Winner will be drawn on December 15, 2023.

 


Author Biography:

 

Ryan Jo Summers writes from the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, usually with a couple of dogs at her feet and at least one cat spread out over her desk. She is a sucker for homeless and traumatized fur-babies. She also operates a pet sitting service.

 

 Her writing has appeared in trade journals and regional and national magazines. She has numerous novels, novellas, and anthology contributions all published in the romance genre and assorted subgenres. Some have placed well in national writing contests.

 

Aside from writing and pet sitting, Ryan Jo likes to work in her garden, gather with family and friends, and cook. paint, and read. She enjoys a good game of chess, or a challenging word find puzzle and watching fish swim in an aquarium or the chickens scratch in the yard. 

 

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