Exile on $.99 Promotion All Week

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Author G.G. Vandagriff brings readers what is possibly her best work yet in “Exile.” Vandagriff masterfully weaves a tale of conflicted romance into the pre-WWII era, bringing the terror, sadness and anger of Hitler’s reign out of history and into the hands of readers. Vandagriff does an excellent job balancing fact and fiction.“–Deseret News

“Exile is a strong and touching story which details not only many little known details of World War II, but share an intimate knowledge of European politics and social customs. The author did a superb job of melding together the various plot lines and intrigues leading to Austria’s takeover and the attempt by the Nazis to rule all of Europe.” –Meridian Magazine
“This novel was exceptional. It was historically accurate, yet entertaining and involving at the same time. I appreciated the author’s ability to weave correct historical events with the fictional characters. I was engaged throughout the novel and also learned some things I didn’t know before. The characters were well-developed and the storyline wasn’t frivolous in any regard. I am hoping there will be another novel about this family.”–5-Star Amazon Review
Synopsis: It is 1938, and Austria has just fallen to the Nazis. Amalia von Schoenenburg’s husband, Rudolf, has been murdered by the SS before her eyes. Fleeing to Switzerland with a vital message from Rudolf for Mr. Winston Churchill, she is accompanied by her two sons and Dr. Andrzej Zaleski, the man she loved heart and soul before the Great War. As this little band of exiles works to complete its vital mission, Amalia struggles with grief and guilt. She loved her husband and raised two children with him, but how can she deny the passion that has existed, hidden away–the passion of a lifetime? This is the stand alone sequel to The Last Waltz, critically acclaimed winner of the Whitney Award and international bestseller.

G.G.’s Jottings

March, 2015



Release of new Regency romance!

Available for a limited time at promotional price of $2.99

Lord John 72

Buy on Amazon here

When Lord John returns from the Battle of Waterloo nursing a serious wound and a case of melancholia, he is hopeful of beginning a happier phase in his life. His sights are set on the lovely Miss Lindsay, his country neighbor’s daughter. But to his mystification, he keeps getting distracted by her family’s governess—a little dab of a thing who is not at all what she seems.

His determination to solve the mystery of Miss Haverley begins to seriously undermine his interest in Miss Lindsay, who is certain he is about to offer for her. In the face of this, how can he pursue his interest in the family governess?  Not only must he solve this dilemma, but he must discover what the petite woman hiding. When Miss Haverley begs him to resist satisfying his curiosity because such a course could bring her harm, his dilemma doubles. He is more determined than ever to rescue her from whatever demons she is trying to escape, for Miss Haverley alone seems to have the power to stir him to passion and hope for a new life.


Astrid and Natie

Astrid and Natie



Micah: Clown Day at Pre School

Micah: Clown Day at Pre School







Henry learns to use a straw.

Henry learns to use a straw.


We recently visited Zion National Park for the first time and had an unforgettable visit. Though the pictures are amazing, they don’t begin to do the majesty of this maze of canyons justice.



Deseret News Review of Exile

“EXILE,” by G.G. Vandagriff, The Orson Whitney Press, $12.99, 311 pages (f)

In the confusing and terrifying times just before World War II, Amalia von Schoenenburg, her two sons and a few close friends find themselves fleeing Austria after its fall to the Nazis.

As if the escape wasn’t terrifying alone, Amalia witnesses the brutal murder of her husband, shot down by the SS for his defiance against Adolf Hitler. Now Amalia must take an important message from her husband to Winston Churchill.

But even with the SS hot on their trail and a brutal, unforgiving enemy with a thirst for revenge in pursuit as well, Amalia finds herself constantly torn between her feelings of guilt over her husband’s death and her old feelings for her first love and traveling companion, Dr. Andrzej Zaleski.

Utah author G.G. Vandagriff brings readers what is possibly her best work yet in “Exile.” Vandagriff masterfully weaves a tale of conflicted romance into the pre-WWII era, bringing the terror, sadness and anger of Hitler’s reign out of history and into the hands of readers. Vandagriff does an excellent job balancing fact and fiction.

“Exile” is pumped full of tension, action and sweet romance that transport readers back in time. The story is told from the point of view of several different characters, allowing readers a deeper look into each situation.

Even though “Exile” is a sequel to “The Last Waltz,” which was published in 2009, readers can enjoy it as a stand-alone novel without much difficulty.

“Exile” is a clean romance with some brief, generally decribed war-related violence and no bad language.

EXILE on promotion for $.99!


Exile Promotion

For a limited time Exile is available on Amazon for $.99!

From Whitney-award winning author of the bestselling historical romance THE LAST WALTZ, comes the highly anticipated stand-alone sequel, EXILE:
It is 1938, and Austria has just fallen to the Nazis. Amalia von Schoenenburg finds herself widowed and fleeing from the Nazi regime that took her husband’s life. Together with her two teenage sons, Amalia relies on her old love, Andrzej, to take her to England where they must deliver a vital message to Mr. Winston Churchill. But Amalia can’t deny the past and her long-buried love for Andrzej. As they struggle against Nazi minions across Europe and in England, Amalia’s passion for Andrzej revives. But those feelings only compound her grief and guilt, and she must once again choose whether or not to follow her heart or keep it protected forever.


Review of Exile by USA Today Bestselling Author, Heather Moore

Thanks to Heather (H.B.) Moore for her wonderful five-star review of EXILE:


I’ve been waiting for this sequel to THE LAST WALTZ for many years. EXILE is a fabulous continuation of Amalia and Andrzej’s timeless love story. Amalia is facing tragedy again as her her husband Rudolf is killed by the Nazi’s, and she and her two boys are entrusted to Andrzej’s care in order to get them out of Austria safely. While fleeing for her life, and grieving for her husband, old passions are ignited in her heart for Andrzej, a man she had given up on many years before
.Author GG Vandagriff is a master at creating intrigue and heart-rendering characters against the intricate tapestry of pre-WWII. Hitler’s strategy is amazing (and eerie) to watch as it unfolds across the nations and as he places supporters throughout Europe to rise up when the time is right.


Amalia and Andrzej face danger at every turn as they deliver the truth about the Germans in Austria to Churchill in England, and Vandagriff deftly weaves a tale of suspense with her scholarly knowledge of the 20th century Central European history.

I also read the author’s historical notes at the end of the book, finding them very interesting, and adding to my knowledge of this complicated era of world powers vying for more power.

EXILE immediately immerses the reader into a time not so far distant with a good dose of political intrigue set against wonderful descriptions of the vibrancy of Europe.


Read Chapter One of Exile Here!

March, 1938

Chapter One

Escaping in a limousine from Innsbruck to Zürich, Doctor Andrzej Zaleski studied the pink dawn as it crept over the Swiss Alps. He breathed deeply in gratitude. At last: They had lived to see a new day.

His gaze returned to the woman he had loved over half his life. He expected her to begin weeping at any moment, but Amalia was staring dry-eyed out the window. Her mahogany-colored hair was concealed under a knitted ski cap, her long, graceful limbs invisible under heavy ski clothes and the ski jacket she had worn for their aborted escape over the Austrian mountains.

Nineteen years ago, he had lost her through gross stupidity. Every day since, he had ached with that loss.

Now, by the early light, he could see that the landscape they were traversing was suitable for their grim purposes. “You should stop somewhere along here, I believe,” he said to Max, their erstwhile chauffeur and longtime friend. “It would be awkward if we were to be observed.”

Max grunted his agreement and turned off, bumping their automobile across a farmer’s field, sticking to the hedge boundary for added protection from prying eyes. He reached a large fir.

“This will be as good a marker as any,” he said.

Andrzej helped Amalia to alight. Her two sons, eighteen-year-old Rudi and sixteen-year-old Christian, followed. As his mother shivered in the bone-aching cold, her youngest son drew a plaid wool blanket around her shoulders and, with one arm, held her against his side. Rudi joined Andrzej and Max as they opened the trunk.

Six hours had passed since the brutal death of Rudolf, Baron von Schoenenburg, and what was left of him looked like a frozen gray effigy of himself. His chest, torn open by SS bullets, was still gory with blood that seemed scarcely dry. Andrzej, once again assaulted by the sight, hastily pulled off his overcoat and spread it over the baron’s body before he, Rudi, and Max lifted him out.

Rudolf, Amalia’s husband and Rudi and Chris’s father, late Cabinet Minister to Austria’s Chancellor, was tragically and incomprehensibly dead, leaving their entire party in shock and grief. Carrying him to a spot of ground beneath the towering fir, Andrzej set the body down with unusual reverence. During the Great War, he had buried many a friend, but never in the presence of his grieving family.

He and Max proceeded to dig a grave with picks and a shovel they had found in the stolen SS limousine’s trunk. Fortunately, the spring thaw had begun. Amalia stood by shivering, and Andrzej felt her sorrow in every part of him. Though her marriage had begun as one of convenience, she had loved Rudolf more than Andrzej had ever realized.

When the time came for them to lay the baron to rest, she raised her voice over her tears, saying, “I’m sorry, Rudolf. I’m sorry you had to die. We’re only leaving you here until Hitler himself is underground. When your home is free again, we’ll return to take you back to the Schloss, where you should have been free to live out your life.”

Throwing a handful of earth over the wounds on his chest, she murmured, “Aufwiedersehen, Liebchen.

Rudi, the new Baron von Schoenenburg, followed suit, saying, “I’ll fight your battle, Father.”

Christian, holding his head rigid as he looked at the horizon, tossed his handful of earth blindly and said, “We’ll put the bully underground, Father.”

Andrzej knew that despite the family’s despair, their resolution was real. Amalia’s sons would follow her lead in this. For the third time in her life, she had lost everything, but he had no doubt she would recover. He only hoped that as time passed, she would allow him to help her.


When they finally arrived in Zürich later in the day, Amalia found the early spring weather blustery and bitter. She preceded Andrzej, Rudi, Max, and Christian into the wood-paneled, gleaming lobby of the Hotel Metropole. While the men saw to booking their rooms under suitable aliases, she was drawn to the fire burning in a massive grate. Sitting in an overstuffed leather chair by the hearth, Amalia stretched her hands out toward the warmth. In what seemed like another life, this was where she was to have met her husband following their escapes.

Through her numbness, she was aware of Turkish carpets in jeweled tones covering marble floors and well-polished brass fittings and lamps shining all about her. She might be a million miles from that cold and bloody deathscape on the mountain above Innsbruck, but she couldn’t seem to get warm.

It was midday, and savory smells issued from the adjacent dining room. She remembered Rudolf saying she would enjoy the Swiss fondue. Now, it seemed days since she had eaten a proper meal.

Giving up on the prospect of ever feeling warm again, she rose and followed the delicious fragrance across the lobby to a set of wood and glass doors. Through them, she watched oblivious men and women dressed in woolens, eating and conversing as though it were any normal day.

Images of Hitler’s fist crashing down upon her beloved Vienna and Rudolf’s violent death were foreign thoughts, foreign events. They would never happen here. Switzerland was too careful, too neutral.

Suddenly, she wanted to smash the glass doors, the cozy picture. She wanted to hear the glass shatter, see the stunned faces of the diners, watch them cower from the glass fragments as they flew—beautiful but deadly.

“Don’t be angry at them, darling,” Andrzej said as he came up behind her. “If it weren’t for Swiss impartiality, we wouldn’t have this refuge.”

“How did you know I was angry?” She turned her back on the diners.

He smiled and took one of her hands. “Your fists are clenched.”

Rudi joined them. “I think it is time we had our luncheon,” he said in an odd, flat voice.

Andrzej dropped her hand.

“The doctor was keeping me from smashing the glass,” she said.

Her son’s eyebrows rose.

Amalia continued, “The shock is wearing off. I am becoming angry.”

“Would you really have smashed the glass?” Rudi asked, opening the door.

“It was a close thing,” she said as they moved into the dining room and sat around a table.

Through her numbness, she felt the comforting warmth of Andrzej’s presence snaking through her, bringing her much-needed solace. She bit down on her tongue. His green eyes were watching her across the table with the same tenderness he had shown long ago at the deaths of her beloved uncle and her mother.

She knew it didn’t look right, traveling with her former fiancé, but even if she wanted to, she couldn’t possibly leave him behind. Andrzej’s help was needed for the vital mission to England. With Rudolf’s death, Andrzej alone was her partner in this. Though a second son, he had been born into the Polish aristocracy and was at home in the type of society they would need to mingle with in London. She badly needed his English language skill. She spoke only French and German.

There was so much to discuss and plan, though her heart was barely functioning, it was so heavy.


Rudi asked Max, his father’s occasional bodyguard and sometime butler, and Dr. Zaleski—whose relationship to his father and mother he didn’t quite understand—to meet him and Chris in their rooms after luncheon. They needed to discuss their future plans. He was aware his father had confided in them. He also knew his father would have told his mother every detail of their plans, as well, but she needed rest and solitude for her grieving just now. He settled her in her own suite under a pile of feather quilts with a warm cup of chocolate at her side. Her eyelids were finally drooping.

The suite he and his brother shared was spacious, with an adequate sitting room for their conference. A welcoming fire burned in the grate. Rudi ordered hot spiced Glüwein for everyone and they settled around a walnut table.

He opened the discussion. “Herr Doktor, I have not thanked you.”

“For what, Baron?”

“First of all, for rescuing my mother from the Gestapo in Salzburg. And secondly, for trying to save my father last night when you stepped forward on that mountain, claiming to be him.”

“I am more sorry than I can say that the ruse didn’t work.”

“Why would you do such a thing?” Chris asked. “You didn’t know Father well.”

Zaleski took out his pipe and filled it from his tobacco pouch. As he was tamping it down, he said wearily, “You are wrong. I knew your father very well. But that is part of a long story I may tell you another day.”

Rudi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, thinking of the doctor holding his mother’s hand outside the dining room.

“Were you privy to my father’s plans?” he asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said. “The night I arrived from Warsaw, he and I and Max discussed what we would do in the event of an Anschluss. I know that he had his funds wired here. I followed his example. After a suitable interval while we must deceive the SS as to our intentions, we are to proceed to England.”

Max handed the young baron a paperback book. Rudi looked at it. Mein Kampf, by Adolf Hitler.

“It is time for you to read this book, Baron,” Max told him. “Hitler wrote out his entire strategy while he was in jail in the 1920s. His next target is Czechoslovakia.”

Max opened his small, worn silver case and removed a cigarette. “Your father believed the world to be at a crossroads. If the Western democracies do not stop Hitler now, the cost to stop him later could be millions of lives.”

Rudi’s eyes narrowed. “War, then. Just what Mutti has always been afraid of.”

“And what your father had been working to avoid. Your father met Hitler, remember,” Max said. “The man is not completely mad, as many seem to think. He cannot be dismissed as such.”

Max looked even more war-weary than usual, his eyes locked on the table, his battered visage quiet with the weight of his thoughts. Rudi watched as he hesitated, drawing on his cigarette. Finally, he raised his eyes. “Your father had firsthand knowledge that Hitler’s aggression will never stop with Austria.”

Rudi felt dread clamp his heart and understanding dawned. “That is why the SS were ordered to kill him.”

“Yes, not just because he was an enemy. And that is why we are still in danger now.”

Rudi leaned forward on his elbows toward Max. “Tell me about this evidence.”

Dr. Zaleski warned, “The secret could cost you your life.”

“It may be assumed that I know anyway,” Rudi said.

Chris added, “We must know.”

“Your mother will not be happy with me,” Max said.

“She will get over it,” said Rudi.

Max tapped his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. “The Western democracies are being led to believe that Hitler only wants to consolidate the German-speaking peoples. Do you remember when I drove your father and Chancellor von Schusschnigg to Berchtesgaden to meet Hitler?”

“Yes,” Chris said before Rudi could reply. “I remember worrying that he might not come back.”

“If they had realized at the time what he heard, he might not have been allowed out of the fortress,” Max said. “You see, he overheard von Ribbentrop, an intimate of Hitler’s, speaking to Goering, the Reichsmarshal of the Air Force. Von Ribbentrop is an irresponsible braggart. He was denigrating the West for being weak and naïve, for believing Hitler’s promises and for not foreseeing his ‘inspired’ goal of a German conquest of Europe.”

Rudi’s palms grew damp and his heart sped up. “Do they know he overheard?”

“I think they must have deduced it somehow,” Zaleski said. “Nothing else explains why they didn’t want him to leave the country. If it were just that he was anti-Fascist or anti-Hitler, one would think they would have been content to see your father flee.”

“But he was only one man,” Christian protested. “What did they think he could do?”

Max drew on his cigarette and for a moment, there was silence. After exhaling, he said, “The same thing your mother and Zaleski are going to do now. Go to Churchill and tell him he is right. Offer to help him convince the rest of the government before they allow Czechoslovakia and the rest of Europe to go the way of Austria.”

“Churchill?” echoed Rudi and Chris together.

Zaleski said, “Winston Churchill. A prominent Member of Parliament who is not currently serving in the government but seems to have taken Hitler’s measure. He is a ‘voice crying in the wilderness,’ much as your father was. People are dismissing him as a warmonger.”

Rudi frowned. “What makes you think he would listen to us? Father, perhaps, but we have no credentials.”

The doctor said, “You do not know this, but I fought beside the English in the Great War for Polish freedom. I learned the language and made friends.” He drew on his pipe and for a moment said nothing. “Too many of them were killed, but the few who survived serve in the government.”

The skin between Zaleski’s eyes puckered in a frown. “They have been keeping me informed. Britain and France are weary to the bone of war. But my friends are just prescient enough to believe that the present blindness is going to lead to another one. They back Churchill. They can vouch for us.

“We must be very discreet,” Max said, his voice stern. “I am certain the SS will follow us here. We must fool them. They must be made to think we intend to remain in Switzerland. Meanwhile, through my socialist contacts, I will arrange a secret passage to England. This is what your father would want.”

Zaleski spoke up quietly, “Hitler’s propaganda machine is busy burying the true facts of the Anschluss. No doubt the Swiss papers will be full of his justifications.”

Placing his pipe carefully in an ashtray, he said, “Rudi and Chris, no one must know who you are. Switzerland is neutral, but Hitler has a long reach.”

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Reviews for Exile Coming In

This is my first review from someone I don’t know:

I have loved Vandagriff for many years, and this book makes me love her even more. I have never been so enraptured by a historical novel. This book was amazing. This book made me feel hope, sorrow, pain and longing. It was so frustrating knowing what would happen next, but it did not make me love the book less. I cannot wait for her next book!–Five Star Review

Exile Finally Released!

Yes! Today is the day for the Amazon release of Exile in e-book and paperback! I hope all my friends and readers will enjoy this book whether or not they have read The Last Waltz. There is a new character who is always sure to please–Winston Churchill.

Once again here is the blurb:

It is 1938, and Austria has just fallen to the Nazis. Amalia von Schoenenburg’s husband, Rudolf, has been murdered before her eyes. Fleeing to Switzerland with a message for Mr. Winston Churchill, she is accompanied by her two sons and Dr. Andrzej Zaleski, the man she has loved heart and soul since before the Great War. As this little band of exiles struggles to complete its vital mission, Amalia struggles with grief and guilt. She loved her husband and raised two children with him, but how can she deny the passion that has existed, hidden away—the passion of a lifetime?

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