Raymund Eich

Science fiction and fantasy - from Middle America to the ends of the Universe

Hi ,

I took my family to dinner at Olive Garden the other day. Part of the Italian restaurant chain's vibe is to play jazz, big band, and midcentury standards over the sound system. So much so that on the occasions when I play jazz in the car or through my Bluetooth speaker, my daughter will say I'm playing "Olive Garden music."

There we are, eating our pasta dishes, when Dean Martin starts crooning... and I feel a pang of regret. Now, I regret very few things in my life, but here's one of them:

High school. Sociology class with Mr. Croskey. A good teacher with a penchant for corny jokes. The subject matter of the day's lecture was folkways, taboos, and other customs, such as morés.

"What's a moré?" Mr. Croskey asked, and then he answered his own question. "It's when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie."

I got the reference. I thought it was funny. I was the only of the thirty of us in that class who got the reference and thought it was funny.

And to this day I regret I did not laugh.

Okay, that's not much as far as regrets go. I've been fortunate in my life.

I'm enough of a history buff, though, that I regret a lot of what has happened over the course of history. Maybe regret is the wrong word. I didn't set Rome on the its path of decline and fall. I didn't start World War I or keep it going so long, for so much death and destruction, and for so little gain. (To quote comedian Emo Phillips, "People ask me, 'where were you when Kennedy was shot?' I don't have an alibi!")

Maybe frustration? Anger? The 20th century's two greatest disasters, Naziism and Communism, were born in the wreckage of World War I. Thomas Jefferson's vision for the United States, of a republic of yeoman farmers and the small town businesses supporting them, a republic avoiding foreign entanglements, was broken by victory and the post-war boom, replaced by a country dominated by Wall Street, the C-suite, and the military-industrial complex.

Which might explain why I'm a fan of alternate history. There are many many ways the world could be better than it is... and so many contingencies that had to fall just so for us to be stuck with what we have. "For want of a nail" is an extremely true bit of folk wisdom. I'm convinced of that. If you ever doubt that one person's choices can matter, just think about Archduke Franz Ferdinand's driver, who took a wrong turn and shifted out of drive and into reverse mere yards from the last of the Serbian assassins waiting in Sarajevo on June 28, 1914.

But that's not the changepoint in my latest story. What is? Read on for a hint.

Fritz Bauer and the Courtesan of Paris

Enter an alternate history, where in 1916, the guns of the Great War fell silent.

Now, in the 1920s, a veteran of the trenches struggles to build a lasting peace...

...while against him scheme the merchants of death.

Equipped only with tact, cleverness, fluency in French, and a Luger pistol, Fritz Bauer arrives in Paris on a highly secret mission.

Many a young prince has journeyed to the City of Light to receive instruction in the arts of love.

But when that young prince is the German emperor's grandson...

...French public opinion seethes over ignoble defeat...

...and publicity of the prince's visit could topple the French government, or drive an assassin to spark another round of devastation and mass slaughter...

Millions of lives rely on Fritz and his talents.

In Paris, he must forge uneasy alliances with both his counterparts in French intelligence and the young prince's hostess. Only with their help can he play and win a dangerous game in the shadows.

Someone wants another Great War.

Who?

And can Fritz and his temporary allies find and stop the enemies of peace before time runs out?

The story will go live at major ebook marketplaces on Thursday, April 27. I'll drop you a line when it's available.

Till next time,

Happy reading!

Raymund