Wednesday, April 2, 2014

A to Z Challenge - "B"



B - as in "Boats" (all shapes and sizes)

I love them – 
except when they make my stomach heave and have me clutching at the mast for support. 
Some boats are squirrely, zigging and zagging through the water, sails strapped taut, intent on winning that race, upsetting but the most iron of stomachs. Others, round-bottomed and plump like a Rubens painting of a voluptuous woman, make slow and steady headway even through sloppy seas. Those are the ones you want to go cruising with (plus, of course, a good-looking skipper).





Here, at the venerated San Diego Yacht Club,
you have your choice of boats to look at;
unless you meet "a man with a boat."

Pacific Ode

Having been raised a nimble mountain goat,
I felt amiss around this small-hilled Finest City.
With so much ocean ev’rywhere, I thought it was a pity,
not to be known by an experienced man who sailed a boat.

With great resolve, dressed to the nines,
I slipped into its oldest venerated Club-de-Yate
where I pretended to belong, and drank cafe-con-latte
before I click-clacked down those loose-planked chines.

'Hey, Sailorman,’ I said with my considerable charm.
‘You have a spiffy little ship. And I can see you care.
With these thick ropes strung ev’rywhere
you have to be quite good, lest you do yourself some harm.’

'I am the Skipper,’ said the gray-locked gent.
‘And this here is my bristol vessel.
The ropes you’re standing on are lines around my cleats
which, once aboard, turn into sheets.’

'What are you saying, Sailorman?
I can assure you that I speak se English good.
But thrash me with your sailor-lingo,
it goes beyond my ken.’ My assertiveness by now unglued.

'Come on aboard, my pretty lady,’ the handsome hunk invited.
His sun-burned hands extended down; he pulled me up to roam.
He briefly stopped to smile, however,
when my stiletto heel bit into closed-cell foam.

He swallowed hard but remained calm, still not averse,
and pointed out clew, tack, leech, vang, and boom;
then handled me quite pleasantly down his steep stairs
where I plopped into a seemingly all-purpose room.

He proudly showed me his salon and gimbaled galley,
then squeezed me forward through a narrow alley.
‘And now, my dear, the time has come to show you my forepeak.’
Whence I suppressed a panicked female shriek.

'Why, Sailorman, I am a stocking’d lass,
and it is much too soon for you to show your—peak to me.’
Kissing me soundly on the lips, he laughed with glee:
‘Soon, you’ll sail her like a champ through the tightest pass.’

Once ready to assist in docking the well-waxed double-ender,
I stood a-port, right elbow hooked around a shroud for sole support,
the bowline at the ready in my nerve-iced left
when, for whatever reason, I unwound my right-hand bender.

Despite blue-blazered grace, the inevitable then took place,
which much confounded hot-shot Sailorman of IOR-dimensions.
Yes, indeed, as you have by now surmised,
this mountain goat turned mermaid, San-Diego-Bay-baptized.

Of course, I quit my job and gave my scrawny cat away
to move aboard with a brand-new French pressure-cooker pot.
Equipped with Dramamine, assorted spices, and the lot,
I was prepared to stay.

Boot-stripe immersed, we journeyed through Nirvana,
not even loathe to share the odious cleaning of the head.
We kissed and laughed, and baked fresh pressure-cooker bread
chock-full of ripe banana.

Until, one raging night, quite unexpected,
I was struck down by Neptune’s vengeful ax.
While I lay felled by this debilitating mal-de-mer,
head-splitting Wagner chants supposedly helped him relax.

I could have died, I felt so bad.
Insanely hating those black squalls,
I vowed to stay alive if only with the last of my remaining strength
to cut off Flying Dutchman’s valiant ... toes.

The thought of this kept me a-gag; secretly, I planned the lot:
Without the called-for proper juice,
I’d throw them into my French pot
where, within pressure-cooker time, to powder they’d reduce.

The morn’ arose with brilliant hues.
Dawn brought with it a tranquil sea.
I instantly forgot my inner-ear unbalanced blues
when Dutchman had hot java and a toothy grin for me.

I was so grateful then that in the throws of my malaise
I had not done the ugly deed
and, quickly, I assured myself that ever-dancing Skip’
still sported pink appendages which he and I would need.

I kissed those rosy toes, excitedly a-mutter
with great enthusiasm, new resolve, and ease.
As Dutch’s Senta I would follow him along the path of stormy seas
through whatever Neptune had in store for his well-found cutter.

Alas, one day, my Sailorman, he sailed amok
with a young steel-bunned looker.
Which left me standing at the dock
with useless lingo, and an empty pressure cooker.
* * *
Excerpt from my Moments of the Heart, A Book of Poems and Short Prose





Tuesday, April 1, 2014

A to Z Challenge - "A"

 


A - As in "After the Cataclysm"

Hello everyone.
I don't want to gloat right off the bat (or the boat) - but since this Challenge starts with "A"
my latest release easily comes to mind (at least to mine).
(Think of it as an exercise for this Challenge;
as we go along, I'll be learning from the veterans on here.) 


What does the eruption of a supervolcano have to do with ships or sailing?
Not so fast. There is a connection.



A ghost ship, the real Lyubov Orlova, still haunts the Atlantic. http://whereisorlova.com/ No crew; just cannibal rats on board.

I gave her a new name and a new life - for a while...



As the North American continent lies in ruins, buried under volcanic ash, it is good to have a way to escape. This former cruise ship is just the ticket for a seedy South American collector of antiquities. But all that glitters is not necessarily gold.

That’s all I am going to tell you for now.

Monday, March 31, 2014

A to Z Challenge - Theme Reveal



THEME REVEAL for my A to Z CHALLENGE 

And what a challenge it will be.



I Choose: Boats and Sailing

(Don't worry, there will be minimal doses of Dramamine involved -
because Pasha doesn't like the water)



But I do and I hope you do too



So, let's set sail together in the A to Z Challenge


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Review of Retirement Clock: Poems 5, by Jim Bennett

We have all dabbled in "poetry." Don't deny it. It was okay. Because it came from deep within us - even though much of it was lousy as far as the correct pentameter, rhyme, or all the other rules about the real thing were concerned.

Well, I just read some poems of real-life, present-day Canadian poet, Jim Bennett.
I was even presumptuous enough to write "a review" of his latest volume, Retirement Clock: Poems 5. My only excuse for such arrogance is that I put down what I felt; because that's how I enjoy poetry; it's personal.

And here is said personal review:
* * *


A Book of Haunting and Powerful Poetry
Retirement Clock: Poems 5

On my shelf, a heavy bookend holds treasured volumes tight against intrusion. There, they reign, my poets: Goethe, Schiller, Grillparzer. I grew up with them. Carl Sandburg, too, amuses; while Maya Angelou accuses. I love Poetry. It sings to me and stirs my soul.

Today, I shifted the heavy marble, for Jim Bennett, Canadian Poet, to take up residence among my favorites.

After several re-readings, Bennett’s fifth volume: Retirement Clock: Poems 5 was not an easy read, hitting home on so many fronts: Retiring from ‘being somebody,’ wilting away like autumn leaves, ashamed of our cruel world. Among the pages, there are four inter-connected poems in particular that made me stop and grieve; powerful beyond the thirteen years of passing.

If the poet will allow me to quote from The Path Now Taken. A misguided fanatic justifies his unthinkable act before Allah: “the path now chosen absolves your path behind.” Not until the following Burning “I am the flame,” did the imminent threat quiver, then horrify in Executed “can’t get out.” The last of these four poems, Speech to the Statue of Liberty “I saw the flame of freedom fail” ends with the pledge ‘we must prevail.’

I did not check pentameter, nor rhyme, which are technically perfect. I simply felt what I read. Some words swept over me at first, like that unexpected breaker on an unknown shore. But as I came to anticipate the next wave, moved back not to be swallowed up, followed it out into the surf to be taunted, I glimpsed precious pebbles underneath, watched blue-footed boobies soar above. This is today’s Poetry in all its glory, its depths, its bared feelings; haunting imagery of life passing...

Jim Bennett’s preceding four volumes are equally as powerful. I strongly recommend you spend some stirring hours in their company.
* * *
Be sure to visit Jim's blog - I recently asked him some pressing questions in connection with nominating him for the "Liebster Award" (nobody ever gets to be the finalist). His answers are  interesting, if not as terse as his poetry.
I am sure he held back in deference of this pearl-wearing lady. http://jim-bennett-Blog

Find Jim’s Books at Amazon: Jim Bennett, Poet


Monday, March 24, 2014

LIEBSTER AWARD Nomination




Thank you, Christoph Fischer, for nominating me!  

                     

The rules are as follows:
- Each nominee must link back the person who nominated them

 in your case to me: Inge H. Borg-Fiction Blog


- Answer the 10 questions that are given to you by the nominator
            (and don’t be shy). Scroll to the end of this post for your questions from me.
- Nominate 10 other bloggers for this award.
- Create 10 questions for your nominees to answer.

Let the nominees know that they have been nominated by going to their blog and notifying them.
* * *
Even though this might be a slight bow to Mr. Ponzi,
combined, we are a force, and we proudly acknowledge each other, our strengths, our genres, our very different approaches to writing.  All are valid in their own right. All are commendable. All are to be celebrated.

* * *

Here are Christoph Fischer’s questions to me. I answered them as honestly as I could. Now, remember, I am a writer. I have been suspected to make things up! 

1. If you did not blog about books, what would you blog about?
Animals -- and their besotted human writers.
Actually, I do that on my other blog http://ingehborg.blogspot.com/
where I often feature authors with an interest in animals and/or their pampered pets (from cats, dogs, to fish, water buffalo and elephants). You are all invited to send me your stories with pictures of your “best ever friends.”

2. What is [was] your strangest hobby?
Scooping poop.
Let me explain: I innocently went to our little animal shelter to volunteer.   A couple of hours max. I was to “socialize the cats,” stroking and cooing. Yeah, that got buried in cat litter real fast.
I can joke about it now, as I do in “Pasha, from Animal Shelter to a Sheltered Life” (the cat’s life, not mine) Although I sadly do lead a rather sheltered life now. And, I still scoop being owned by two cats. Of course, they are from the shelter; a volunteer’s occupational hazard.

3. What makes you laugh?
A good joke. I am gullible (see no. 2 above).

4. What is your favorite song?
“Warum hat jeder Frühling, ach, nur einen Mai?”
Huh? Relax, you don’t have to repeat it. But, as an Austrian expat, I do love my Viennese operettas which I still listen to on my old records (those round, black, vinyl things; you remember? Well, maybe not.)

5. Where would you like to live if it could be anywhere at all?
Maui. Specifically, isolated Hana. Of course, I’d need a helicopter pilot to ferry my supplies over; that winding one-lane road is too treacherous. (Christoph, are you listening?)
That reminds me: I once sent an RVer friend directions to my house here in the foothills of rural Arkansas, cautioning her about the “windy roads.” She told me that there was no wind at all. Geesh: Not windy as in Indie. But as pronounced in, I, or whatever—can’t come up with a rhyme.

6. Celebrity Crush?
Sorry, not my thing. (Except for Clive Cussler. He ranks right after “Mr. Smith.” See my question no. 3 to you.)
I guess, I’m getting too old to gush over our present-day “Celebrities,” unless they were my favorite writer-friends. So, hurry up and get famous so I can initiate said gushing and crushing. (Charlie Bray has an opinion about that).

7. Do you prefer books with a message or are you happy to just be entertained by a story?
Actually, both, depending on my mood. I do love exotic locales, though – the more tropical, lush or remote and dangerous the better. I guess that’s why I can’t abide “country” music, all too popular in this southern rural setting I chose as my exile.
All that moaning and groaning about the outhouse (been there, done that), the lame horse (never had one, lame or otherwise), and the grubby hubby “who’s done gone run off with Lilly-May.” Luckily, I never had one of those either.

8. Do you have a pet “hate”?
You better believe it. It took me a long time to master the English language. (And according to some – my above RVer friend included - I am not done yet.) I am not talking accent here; that’ll never go away.
But now, I find that they have abandoned conjugating verbs in schools. “I should have did this,” or “I should have went,” etc. It raises havoc for a writer. Y’all agree, aren’t ya?

9. The world ends tomorrow, where would you go if you had one plane ticket free?
Waste my last day on a plane? Squashed in the middle seat? You must be kidding.
I am driving to the liquor store and blow my money on the best bottle of wine they have.
Now there is a challenge. This Arkansas county is as dry as a ghost ship’s last barrel of rum.

10. Do you have a motto you live by?
“Avoid ladies’ lunches.”
Sorry, but I moved to a small community where almost everyone is retired. I find old people really selfish. They won’t talk about my books. They won’t gush over my writing. And they won’t buy my darn novels (my fault. I furnished the library with free copies). All they talk about is themselves.
The next time I have to meet someone for lunch, I’ll take my books along. And I’ll talk about them!

* * *

Here are my nominees:

Jim Bennett (Poet Extraordinaire with strong opinions; that's okay, he is Canadian)
Russell Blake (His thrillers bolster my tough-girl delusions)
Charlie Bray (Don’t get him going on “Celebrities” – actually, he did, in his last parody)
Lexa Cain (She doesn’t just write about Egypt, she lives there)
Clive Eaton (A newly discovered—by me—“Ancient Egyptian Ba”)
Julie Flanders (A ghost. An island. You have a thriller)
Kay Hadashi (Talk about exotic)
Robert M. Roberts (Loves felines as much as I do —that’s “felines” you speed readers!)
Marnie Robertson (Her novel sent me to Belize. Every winter, I threaten to move there)
Cathy Unruh (Animal advocate with a sense of humor)



 And my questions for you:

This will take some thought – and perhaps a glass of wine - because 1) a lot has been asked and answered before, and 2) I am not an overly curious gal to ask personal questions. Doesn’t mean I don’t care; just that I want you to dig deeper into your writer’s soul.

Now, if you let me be a little bit wicked about this, we can have some fun (I hope I don’t have to change my nominee list. Naw! You’re game for a little irreverence, aren’t you? This from someone who is generally burdened by “The Importance of being Earnest” (misspelled intentionally, lest you get the wrong idea).

1) Do you talk to your computer?
(No, not that. We know what you fling at it when it swallows your manuscript).
I mean, do you thank it for being there, day after day, in the middle of the night when you have that epiphany; and when it helps you spell epiphany?

2)  After someone introduces you as “an author,” people sometimes (mostly at ladies’ luncheons) dismiss your meteoric little moment by saying “Oh, I could write a book.”
a) What is your answer?
b) What do you think to yourself? Remember, this is a GA-rated blog.

3)  If you use a pen-name, what was your primary reason?
(Since we don’t have any erotica writers here that I know of, this should be educational, rather than obvious. I give you a hint: My real name is too long to fit on my covers, and too complicated to be remembered, or ever being spelled correctly; yes, I do have an Umlaut; it’s an ö. When the immigration lady asked me too suddenly if I wanted to change my name, I sputtered that I was still looking for Mr. Smith. She said, she was too, and stamped my US-citizen certificate. That was long before I tried to sneak into Wilbur’s domain).

4)  How lenient are you with people who answer their own questions?

5)  This is hard. Let’s see: Why don’t you get something off your chest.
No, it can’t be the cat, nor your Labradoodle or pet-elephant. It has to be about – your Love of MARKETING. That should open some floodgates.

6)  Did you ever change the original cover(s) on your book(s) and why? (I can answer that. Oops, it’s not my turn – but for Khamsin, it was Russell’s blog article even though I loved the other cover).

7) Someone of your not-so-good friends (at the ladies’ luncheon) insists that the lush in your novella “sounds like you.”
How do you tell them: Hell no! It’s a MADE-UP STORY
(as you order another glass of Merlot). Still, this pillar of the community righteously declares "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Note that I gave her credit to get it right (which she won't). 

8)  The best advice you received from a successful colleague.
(Other than to get lost)

9)  Did you have the fortitude (otherwise referred to as guts), and humility, to follow it?

10)  Do you blog to get added exposure, or do you really feel a connection with your fellow-bloggers?

* * *

Whew. That’s done. Now, is there some Superior Being to select a Winner in all of this? I have no idea. As far as I am concerned, we are all winners here, supporting each other, and giving the three-up cheer: “Hip, hip, hooray.” Because—levity aside—we are all passionate about our writing. We believe in it. WE ARE GOOD AT IT...yeah, darn right, we are! So there!


Smile, and Remember: "Life is a ....





Thursday, March 20, 2014

Rave Review for SIROCCO


FIVE OUT OF FIVE STARS -
  SIROCCO
March 19, 2014
   I was given this book free from storycartel.com for my honest review.
   Egypt, archeology, history, mystery and thrills. How could I not like this book? The three main characters, Naunet, Jonathan, and Bill, are sent post-haste to Egypt in order to clear off and translate an ancient gold tablet. It turns out that there are 50 of these tablets. Because of the rarity and the material they are made from these tablets are very valuable.
   Edward convinces Naunet to join him for lunch and the adventure begins... He and Karakurt have taken two of the tablets. They need Naunet to clear and translate them. She is kidnapped.
   I liked this book so much that I bought another three of this author's works. I VERY HIGHLY recommend this book.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

5-Star Review for AFTER THE CATACLYSM

From Christoph Fischer:
Voracious reader, Successful writer, and Gallant Indie-supporter.
* * *
"After the Cataclysm" by Inge H. Borg is her third book with an Egyptian theme, all three belong to the "Legends of the Winged Scarab" series. On this occasion the story is set in a post-apocalyptic / post-cataclysmic world where most of the US is wasteland and power and wealth are now in South America and Venezuela.
Art theft, smuggling and material survival form the story of this book that brings back Egyptologist Naunet Klein from the previous book. She finds herself invited together with her husband, to join Egyptian archaeologist Jabari El-Masri and art collector Lorenzo Dominguez on an abandoned cruise ship in the Caribbean to help translate the inscription on Ancient Golden Tablets.
Legends around the inscriptions and their threatening nature make this a difficult task for her, as does the entire set up of illegality and bribery and with untrustworthy partners in crime on board.
The story is like an adventurous dream, ornate and meticulously set up. It tells with often sarcastic wit and Borg's signature dry sense of humour the motifs and hopes of our characters while checking those ideas constantly against the harsh reality.
With her all-knowing point of view Borg lets us look into all of their minds - a technique that I value.
Obviously well researched and knowledgeable about Egypt and its culture Borg’s writing style is full of ornate and beautiful descriptions. 
Weaving in the ancient Egyptian mythology and legends lends an almost philosophical and moral aspects to some of the writing and plot. 
The boat that our heroes use is real and, once again, the precise descriptions make it come alive easily.
At the same time, the futuristic setting does not distract from the story. What could have been a major component in the plot is merely a writer's tool in my eyes to show once more the enormity of time. Book 1 one (Khamsin, the Devil Wind of the Nile) was set in 3080 B.C, Book 2 (Sirocco, Storm over Land and Sea) in the present, and now Book 3, "After the Cataclysm," takes place only a couple of years into the future. It pays homage to the indestructibility of the legends and the artifacts and with that made a lasting impression on this reader’s mind. While dystopian in nature the book spares us distractions that would not befit the story. 
Naunet and her husband, the art collector and the archaeologist are all excellent characters that make the reading experience a very enjoyable one.
* * *
Read a detailed description of Cataclysm on Christoph Fischer’s interesting website here:

And while you are at it, bookmark this website. It’s a great place to hang out, reading about new releases and great author interviews. And while you are at it, don’t forget to check out Christoph’s own Trilogy.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

After the Cataclysm

Just published:
Book 3 of the Legends of the Winged Scarab series:

  

I like the way it turned out; standing alone as a dystopian action/adventure. However, readers will definitely benefit from having read at least Book 2 - Sirocco, Storm over Land and Sea, whereas Book 1, Khamsin, the Devil Wind of the Nile, is a stand-alone with only its artifacts as the bridge to the two sequels).

 * * *
 Yellowstone Supervolcano explodes. A ghost ship, the abandoned real Lyubov Orlova, becomes the floating battleground between protagonists from Sirocco, Storm over Land and Sea, Book 2.
After the Cataclysm is a dystopian action-adventure novel that plunges straight into this desperate post-apocalyptic world.
Egyptologist Naunet Wilkins and her scientist husband Jonathan flee their lawless homeland on a small sailboat. They accepted an uneasy offer from Egyptian archaeologist Jabari El-Masri, a fugitive from his own country. He was given refuge on Venezuela’s Isla Margarita, owned by the fanatic art collector Lorenzo Dominguez. Did El-Masri barter his Golden Tablets and the expertise of his American friends for his own exile?
Once again, Naunet is torn between translating the ancient curses for the ruthless South American billionaire, and saving her future world from the dire prophecies.
As another ill-wind blows, she finds her answer.
 * * *
For all of you who have encouraged me over the years, and especially you who have bought my books, I say a big “Thank You.”

Now, sit down, do some reading, and write that short review on whatever books of mine you have read so far, so that I get onto that Amazon best-seller list.

Inge H. Borg – Author Pages

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Writer Christoph Fischer Opens Up

I had featured Christoph Fischer's Trilogy on this blog before; as well as having shown his four-legged family of Labradoodles on Pasha's blog.

Today, Christoph has opened up with a question that he has asked himself:"How autobiographical are my stories?"

In the following article - reblogged from his  website  he allows us glimpses about the people behind his novels.

* * *
Here are some pictures that might give some insight into my world and the stories behind my stories.
scan0014This is my paternal grandmother, Gertha / Greta Adam. She divorced my grandfather in 1933, the year my father was born. He never saw his older sister, who remained with my grandfather, until in the late 1970s. They were living in East Germany while my grandmother, her sister Vilma and my father lived in Bavaria, in the West.
Gertha/ Greta and her sister Vilma’s story between 1933 and 1946 is a huge part of THE LUCK OF THE WEISSENSTEINERS, although their exact story was quite different from that of the Weissensteiners in my book.
The two and their kind-hearted nature were the basis for the characters who I named after them.
  This is my paternal grandfather and his Trabant. I sadly never met him but my aunt told me a lot of good things about him when I met her in 1989 (just before the wall came down). He had an amputated leg – not war related – and was a gentle soul, a librarian and book lover. Why my grandparents divorced was never explained to us children. My aunt thought it was to do with money for the family business, but nobody who knows is still alive. Two of my books play out divorce scenarios that could befit their story – seen from different sides. My grandfather and his (imagined/ projected) character heavily influenced the figure of Jonah Weissensteiner. Jonah is how I imagined my grandfather to have been and how my aunt described him. The story of his amputation is the basis for Sebastian, and a lot of the other ‘cold’ facts about his life have influenced the story line of SEBASTIAN.
scan0008



(A "Trabant" was the ubiquitous East German two-cylinder car)



imagesBavaria 1OB 2
This is the mighty alpine landscape that was the backdrop for my childhood. Typical for my upbringing was also the mighty Catholic church, which punished me with masses, confessions and terrible guilt trips because I just did not believe as I was told. [Not that I was forced to do anything other than to go to church by my mother - I hasten to add] Mundane things seemed more important to me than religion at the time and I disagreed that it would have to be the most important thing in my life. Rebel that I was I stopped going anyway, so no harm done.
Our wider family had a farm with a restaurant business attached. It was central to the people of the generations above us and many a yarn was spun about its owners and the people who wanted to inherit it. THE BLACK EAGLE INN is heavily inspired by those stories, but what really happened with the family business I honestly do not know. I never met the people concerned and for the purpose of my post-war German story I had to change so much of the original script that only little of the outer sceleton is similar to the real Inn behind the book.
Above is a picture of my maternal grandparents. My grandfather died at the age of 54 due to a heart condition – something that also found its way into my books. He was a civil servant and had several children.
scan0003This is my grandmother’s offspring as seen in the 1970s.
You can see, a lot of children, hence my tendency to write large family sagas.
My grandmother Gertha / Greta with me and my siblings, early 1980s before her death. Me eating cake with a silly hat on next to my grandmother, my father walking and smiling, my mother on her way into church,  a picture that reminds me of the famly business, a political poster from after the war and a family snap shot as I imagine the Black Eagle Inn lot.
scan0013scan0015scan0004scan0005BEI 2
images (2)images (32)



















The Luck of the Weissensteiners (Three Nations Trilogy Book 1)
In the sleepy town of Bratislava in 1933 a romantic girl falls for a bookseller from Berlin. Greta Weissensteiner, daughter of a Jewish weaver, slowly settles in with the Winkelmeier clan just as the developments in Germany start to make waves in Europe and re-draws the visible and invisible borders. The political climate in the multifaceted cultural jigsaw puzzle of disintegrating Czechoslovakia becomes more complex and affects relations between the couple and the families. The story follows them through the war with its predictable and also its unexpected turns and events and the equally hard times after.
But this is no ordinary romance; in fact it is not a romance at all, but a powerful, often sad, Holocaust story. What makes The Luck of the Weissensteiners so extraordinary is the chance to consider the many different people who were never in concentration camps, never in the military, yet who nonetheless had their own indelible Holocaust experiences. This is a wide-ranging, historically accurate exploration of the connections between social location, personal integrity and, as the title says, luck.
Sebastian (Three Nations Trilogy Book 2)
Sebastian is the story of a young man who has his leg amputated before World War I. When his father is drafted to the war it falls on to him to run the family grocery store in Vienna, to grow into his responsibilities, bear loss and uncertainty and hopefully find love.
Sebastian Schreiber, his extended family, their friends and the store employees experience the ‘golden days’ of pre-war Vienna and the timed of the war and the end of the Monarchy while trying to make a living and to preserve what they hold dear.
Fischer convincingly describes life in Vienna during the war, how it affected the people in an otherwise safe and prosperous location, the beginning of the end for the Monarchy, the arrival of modern thoughts and trends, the Viennese class system and the end of an era.
As in the first part of the trilogy, “The Luck of The Weissensteiners” we are confronted again with themes of identity, Nationality and borders. The step back in time made from Book 1 and the change of location from Slovakia to Austria enables the reader to see the parallels and the differences deliberately out of the sequential order. This helps to see one not as the consequence of the other, but to experience them as the momentary reality as it must have felt for the people at the time.
The Black Eagle Inn (Three Nations Trilogy Book 3)
The Black Eagle Inn is an old established Restaurant and Farm business in the sleepy Bavarian countryside outside of Heimkirchen.  Childless Anna Hinterberger has fought hard to make it her own and keep it running through WWII. Religion and rivalry divide her family as one of her nephews, Markus has got her heart and another nephew, Lukas got her ear. Her husband Herbert is still missing and for the wider family life in post-war Germany also has some unexpected challenges in store.
Once again Fischer tells a family saga with war in the far background and weaves the political and religious into the personal. Being the third in the Three Nations Trilogy this book offers another perspective on war, its impact on people and the themes of nations and identity.
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Short Biography:
Christoph Fischer was born in Germany, near the Austrian border, as the son of a Sudeten-German father and a Bavarian mother. Not a full local in the eyes and ears of his peers he developed an ambiguous sense of belonging and home in Bavaria. He moved to Hamburg in pursuit of his studies and to lead a life of literary indulgence. After a few years he moved on to the UK where he is still resident today. ‘The Luck of The Weissensteiners’ was published in November 2012; ‘Sebastian’ in May 2013 and The Black Eagle Inn in October 2013. He has written several other novels which are in the later stages of editing and finalisation.

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