Another Soul Saved
By John Anthony Miller
Publication Date: April 1, 2026
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 415
Genre: Historical Fiction
Vienna, 1941
Monika Graf, the wife of a wealthy Austrian military commander, steals two Jewish girls from the Nazis—a crime often punishable by death. With soldiers in rapid pursuit, a homeless Jew named Janik, a mysterious man who lurks in the shadows, helps her escape.
Unable to have children of her own, she finds a new purpose in life—rescuing Jewish children from the horrendous Nazi regime. She asks the Swiss for help, trading military secrets she gleans from her husband for the lives of Jewish children. With Janik’s continued support, she also enlists Father Christoff, a priest at St. Stephen's Cathedral coping with unexpected emotions and doubting his commitment to God. Monika quickly forms bonds that can’t be broken, feelings exposed she never knew existed.
Relentlessly pursued by Gestapo Captain Gustav Kramer, Monika combats continuing risk to her clandestine operation. When her husband, a rabid Nazi, returns from the battlefield severely wounded, she gets caught in a cage that she can’t crawl out of.
Wrought with danger, riddled with romance, Another Soul Saved shows humanity at both its best and worst in a classic struggle of good versus evil.
Excerpt
Chapter 2
Father Christoff Engel had just walked out the north door of St. Stephen’s Cathedral when he heard the gunshot. Screams came from the crowded plaza; children started to cry. People dove to the ground, trying to protect themselves while others hid by buildings. Faces appeared in upper-story windows as curtains parted, pulled aside.
A man lay on the ground, surrounded by soldiers. When a second shot never came, the screaming dimmed to a murmur, and people slowly rose from the ground. A crowd started to gather as Christoff moved toward the victim. He was stopped by a short man in a Gestapo uniform, a red band with a swastika wrapped around his right arm.
“Father Christoff,” Captain Gustav Kramer said as he pointed to a side street past the plaza. “Who is that woman with the black hair?”
Christoff saw her hurry down the street with two little girls. She turned as she left the plaza, looking back over her shoulder. It was Monika Graf, one of his favorite parishioners.
“Have you seen her before?” Kramer asked.
“I didn’t get a good look at her,” he said, suspecting she was in trouble. One of twelve priests at St. Stephen’s, he was almost forty with brown hair and kind eyes, his life devoted to serving God.
“She’s either very courageous or an impulsive idiot,” Kramer uttered as the woman merged with pedestrians.
Christoff eyed the captain warily. “Why would you focus on her when a man has just been shot?”
Kramer didn’t reply. “She won’t get far,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“She’s already gone, Captain,” Christoff said. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I said it does,” Kramer replied. He called to a soldier across the street. “Sergeant, come here.”
“Captain, she’s only walking down the street,” Christoff said. “Why harass her?”
“She has two Jewish children with her,” Kramer said.
Christoff pointed to the Jews waiting at the emigration office. “It’s not a crime to associate with Jews,” he said. “They’re all over the city.”
Kramer turned to face him. “The two children were caught stealing, and she helped them escape.”
Christoff frowned, not sure if he believed him. “Stealing what?”
“Bread,” Kramer said. “They were cleaning the street as punishment.”
They were interrupted when the sergeant arrived, a stocky man with a rifle slung over his shoulder. “What did you want, Captain?”
Kramer pointed to the side street. Monika Graf was a block away, barely visible. “A woman with black hair ran down that street with two Jewish girls.”
“Captain, she took them for their own safety,” Christoff said, struggling to maintain his composure. “A man was shot only meters away.”
Kramer ignored him and addressed the sergeant. “Find the woman and bring her to me. Take one of your men with you.”
“Captain,” Christoff said, making one last attempt. “Why—”
“You tend to mass, Father,” Kramer said, as he moved toward the dead man. “I’ll take care of the Jews and whoever tries to help them.”
Christoff didn’t reply. He didn’t want to risk the captain’s ire. He followed him to the corpse. He was young, barely a man, his eyes closed forever. Blood stained the back of his jacket, its footprint growing as it oozed from his body and dripped to the street.
“What happened?” Kramer asked the soldiers gathered around the body.
“He was warning those waiting in line, sir,” a soldier said, pointing to the Jews at the emigration office. “He said that they were being tricked and that they would all be forced into work camps.”
“When we tried to arrest him, he ran off,” a second soldier added.
Father Christoff made the sign of the cross. He clasped his hands together and whispered a prayer for the fallen man’s soul. When he finished, he turned away, unable to look.
Kramer eyed him with amusement. “You seem disturbed, Father.”
Christoff refused to be intimidated. “Will this be the norm now, Captain?” he asked. “Murdered men lying on our cobblestone streets?”
“The norm is what I say it is,” Kramer said. “He had to be shot, Father.”
“For what, may I ask?” Christoff probed.
“Subversive activity, treason, trying to start a riot,” Kramer said and then shrugged. “I could name a dozen crimes.”
“Are words voiced in haste always punishable by death?” Christoff asked.
Kramer smirked. “Father, he’s a Jew. Why do you care?”
“Because he’s a child of God.”
Kramer shrugged. “Some claim we do God’s work by ridding Vienna of vermin.”
Christoff scoffed, disgusted by the hatred that consumed so many. “Who would make such claims?” he asked. “None that I know.”
“Spare me, Father,” Kramer said, rolling his eyes. “He’s not even human.” He pointed to a woman walking her dog. “He’s no different from an animal. Neither has a soul.”
“But he does have a soul, Captain,” Christoff said. “And he didn’t deserve to be shot.”
“He was shot so others know right from wrong.”
“The Lord teaches us right from wrong,” Christoff said. “Not you.”
“A new day has dawned, Father. And the sooner you accept it, the easier your life will become.”
Christoff hesitated. He shouldn’t argue with a man who stood by the devil’s side, but he couldn’t help himself. “I’ll never understand, Captain,” he said. “Not men like you or what you stand for.”
Kramer leaned closer. “You don’t have to understand, Father. You only need to obey.”
Christoff frowned. “Just because my eyes are closed, doesn’t mean I cannot see.”
Kramer chuckled. “A profound statement, Father,” he said. “An excellent example of why Vienna loves your sermons. They’re eloquently delivered and steeped in philosophical discourse.”
“They’re lessons in life,” Christoff said, feeling like he had to defend himself. “I offer what we all think but don’t have the courage to say.”
“It’s best to say little,” Kramer advised. “It’s safer—priest or not.”
Christoff recognized the veiled threat. “God will judge us all, Captain,” he said. “Including you.”
“Enough,” Kramer said. He turned toward the corpse and the soldiers around it. A timid crowd huddled just beyond them. The three Jewish women still scrubbed the street, afraid to stop, and the line of Jews waiting for visas slowly nudged forward. He looked down the street where the woman with the black hair had gone with the two Jewish children.
Father Christoff watched him as he looked for Monika Graf. But she was gone, melting into the streets of Vienna. “Forget her, Captain,” he said. “If she did commit a crime, as you claim, it’s of little consequence.
“I’m more intrigued by her brazen behavior,” Kramer muttered as he stared down the side street. “She seized two Jewish children from a dozen soldiers and two policemen.”
“She did what had to be done,” Christoff said.
“If she’s that courageous, what else is she capable of doing?” Kramer asked.
“You’re fighting the wrong war, Captain,” Christoff said as he turned to leave. “I must go. I have the Lord’s work to do.”
“Wait, I have a task for you, Father.”
Christoff tilted his head. “What might that be?”
“I want you to find the woman who rescued the two Jewish girls.”
Christoff rolled his eyes. “Captain, I don’t know who she is,” he said. “Why not leave her alone?”
“Because I’ve decided to use her as an example, so no one ever does what she did.”
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John Anthony Miller
John Anthony Miller writes all things historical—thrillers, mysteries, and romance. He sets his novels in exotic locations spanning all eras of space and time, with complex characters forced to face inner conflicts—fighting demons both real and imagined. He’s published twenty novels and ghostwritten several others, including Another Soul Saved. He lives in southern New Jersey.
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