Guest Author: Renee Ryan

This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming Steeple Hill Love Inspired author Renee Ryan as she celebrates the release of DANGEROUS ALLIES, set in 1939 Berlin.

In Nazi Germany, British agent Jack Anderson risks his life working undercover as an SS officer. And his latest mission--to uncover intelligence about a Nazi secret weapon--is his most perilous yet. Especially since he'll have to work with Katarina Kerensky. The famous actress is too dangerous to trust--and too beautiful to ignore.

Desperate to save her mother from the Gestapo, Katia reluctantly agrees to work with the coolly handsome Jack. But can she trust a man whose sense of honor is tangled in a web of lies? In a race against time, Jack and Katia forge an alliance to take down the enemy...and learn whether love can survive in a world gone wrong.

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DANGEROUS ALLIES received 4½ stars from RT Book Reviews. Patsy Glans wrote: "Ryan outdoes herself with this latest offering--a mix of romance, intrigue and spies. She writes her characters with strong feelings and heart."

At Renee's website, you can take a look at deleted scenes from DANGEROUS ALLIES, as well why she chose to delete them. Those storytelling choices are always fascinating!

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Hi, Renee! Tell us a little about DANGEROUS ALLIES.

DANGEROUS ALLIES is a romantic spy thriller set in 1939 Nazi Germany. The hero is an American naval officer on loan to the British government. MI6 (the equivalent of today's CIA) sends him into Germany to photograph the blueprints of a Nazi secret weapon. The heroine is an exiled Russian princess and the hero's contact inside Germany.

Isn't WWII considered a taboo time period for romance novels? What made you decide to write a story that would be a guaranteed hard sell?

I didn't sit down and think, "Hey, why not transcend the genre." Rather I wrote DANGEROUS ALLIES during a long dry spell between my first and second book sale. I was so frustrated after my first publisher released me that I quit writing altogether and cancelled my membership in all of my writers' groups. I knew I was heading down a dark road. I couldn't keep chasing the sale anymore. I was a bit too obsessed. In fact, the pursuit of publication became my sole mission in life.

Something had to change. So I purposely took a step back and started working on my faith walk, something I had let lag to dangerous indifference. I also started reading books that were not romances, namely thrillers written by men for men. I very quickly realized these books, though well-written and fascinating, lacked the depth of character, emotion and romance I preferred.

I figured if I was going to collect rejections I might as well swing for the fences and stop playing it safe. Enter the WWII time period, a time of true heroism that hasn't been overdone. I was, for want of a better word, inspired. I took what I knew about romance writing and what I'd learned from all those male-targeted thrillers and melded the two inside the taboo time period. The inspirational thread was just for me, an experiment to see if I had what it took to add my faith into a story without it being overwhelming. I'm truly blessed my editor took a chance on this one.

What do you think makes DANGEROUS ALLIES an Inspirational romance?

Well, I should point out that DANGEROUS ALLIES is not a traditional Inspirational romance. The hero and heroine lie, cheat, steal, and (in the case of the hero) kill to get the job done. They operate under the assumption: sacrifice one to save a multitude. But the larger sacrifice could be their very salvation. This is not a story about "perfect" people, but rather people struggling with the question: Has God abandoned mankind?

Are you finished with the WWII time period?

Not at all! I'm working on my next WWII Inspirational romance right now. It will also be a romantic spy thriller, but is set on American shores. The hero is an OSS agent sent to investigate a Nazi sabotage plot. If successful, the saboteurs will bring the war to the U.S. High stakes indeed. It's also based on a real plot that failed. The traitors were tried in by a military tribunal and found guilty of treason.

Anything else in the works?

In April, my fourth "Charity House" book will be released. The "Charity House" series is set in 1880s Denver, Colorado around a unique orphanage that caters to prostitutes' "mistakes." I've really enjoyed exploring the world where these very brave men, women and children live. They might be outcasts in society, but they have a safe place where love abounds. Very different from my WWII novels!

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Thanks so much for stopping by, Renee! I'm so excited to see more headway toward making WWII an acceptable setting for romance of all kinds.

Readers, if you'd like to enter for a chance to win a signed copy of DANGEROUS ALLIES, leave a comment or question for Renee. I'll select a winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Renee Ryan

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming Steeple Hill Love Inspired author Renee Ryan as she celebrates the release of DANGEROUS ALLIES, set in 1939 Berlin. Join us Sunday when Renee will be here to answer questions and give away a signed copy!

In Nazi Germany, British agent Jack Anderson risks his life working undercover as an SS officer. And his latest mission--to uncover intelligence about a Nazi secret weapon--is his most perilous yet. Especially since he'll have to work with Katarina Kerensky. The famous actress is too dangerous to trust--and too beautiful to ignore.

Desperate to save her mother from the Gestapo, Katia reluctantly agrees to work with the coolly handsome Jack. But can she trust a man whose sense of honor is tangled in a web of lies? In a race against time, Jack and Katia forge an alliance to take down the enemy...and learn whether love can survive in a world gone wrong.

***

20 November 1939
Schnebel Theater, Hamburg, Germany, 2200 Hours

They came to watch her die.

Every night, they came. To gawk. To gasp. To shake their heads in awe. And Katarina Kerensky made sure they never left disappointed.

Tonight, she performed one of her favorites, Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. In typical Nazi arrogance, Germanizing the arts hadn't stopped at simply eliminating "dangerous" persons from cultural life. The Chamber of Culture had continued its purification function by also ruling that Shakespeare--in German translation, of course--was to be viewed as a German classic, and thus acceptable for performance throughout the Fatherland.

Leave it to the Nazis to claim the English playwright as their own.

In spite of her personal reasons for hating the Third Reich, Katia loved the challenge of taking a role already performed by the best and making Juliet her own.

For a few hours on stage her world made sense.

Now, poised in her moment of mock death, her hair spilled past her shoulders and down along the sides of the raised platform on which she lay. She held perfectly still as her Romeo drank the pretend poison and collapsed beside her.

She could smell the brandy and sweat on Hans as the foul scents mingled with the mold growing on the costume he hadn't washed in weeks, but Katia thought nothing of it. She was a professional and approached the role of Juliet as she would any role, on or off the stage. With daring conviction.

Hitting his cue, George, the bald actor playing Friar Laurence, made his entrance. As the scene continued to unfold around her Katia remained frozen, her thoughts turned to the actors who should also be sharing the stage. She was one of the lucky ones. Instead of playing a star-crossed lover doomed for eternity, she could have been among many of her peers thrown out of the theater due to whispers--often untrue--of their Jewish heritage or socially deviant behavior.

For now, at least, she was safe. As she was the daughter of a Russian prince, Vladimir Kerensky, fame had been her companion long before she'd stepped onto a stage.

Would notoriety be enough to keep her safe?

The Nazi Germany racial policy grew increasingly violent and aggressive with each new law. If anyone checked Katia's heritage too closely they might discover her well-kept secret.

To the Germans, she was merely a real-life princess playing at make-believe. A natural, as her mentor Madame Levine had always said. Good skin. Innate talent. Beautiful face and hair. All added to the final package. But the brains? Katia kept those hidden behind the facade of ambition and a seemingly ruthless pursuit of fame.

If the Germans only knew how she really used her talents. And why.

Opening her eyes to tiny slits, she tilted her face just enough to cast a covert glance over the audience. Her latest British contact was out there waiting. Watching. Bringing with him another chance for her to fight the monster regime and protect her mother with means she'd been unable to use to defend her father.

She drew in a short breath and focused on becoming Juliet once more. The scent of stage dust and greasepaint was nearly overpowering. Dizzying. The spotlight blinding, even with her eyelids half-closed. Nevertheless, Katia remained motionless until her cue.

"The lady stirs...."

Money Matters: Inflation in Pre-Hitler Germany

By Delia DeLeest

Hyperinflation is exactly what it sounds like: money becoming worth less and less in a very short period of time. Pre-World War II experienced this and the result affected the entire world and the course of history.

Though the Armistice in November of 1918 ended the actual fighting of World War I, it took over six months of negotiations to form an actual peace treaty. The Treaty of Versailles was signed June 28, 1919, five years to the day of the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand (and the Mrs. Archduke, who is always forgotten), which is the event that started the whole war ball rolling in the first place.

One of the provisions of the treaty was that Germany accept full responsibility for the war and that they pay reparations of $31.4 billion (equivalent to $400 billion in 2010 U.S. dollars). It was felt by many, both Germans and others, that this was excessive and the signing of the treaty caused distrust of the government and extreme unrest among the German people. Along with the monetary reparations, Germany was also stripped of its provinces and territories. There was no way Germany was going to be able to pay this bill and they didn't even bother trying. This, of course, did not go over well with their creditors.

The original war debt created within Germany itself also had to be figured into this equation. During the war, the mark was also taken off the gold standard, thus making it easier to simply print more money as it was needed, thus feeding the inflationary need for more money for purchasing. These are only a few of the factors that caused the horrendous decline of the mark; thousands of other things combined from before, during and after the war to decimate the country's monetary system.

In December of 1919, the exchange rate was 47 marks to one US dollar, by December of 1922 it was 7,000 to 1 and by December of 1923, (are you ready for this?) one US dollar was the equivalent of 4,200,000,000,000 marks. I double and triple checked and, yes, that is the right number of zeros. Children were given stacks of marks to play with like building blocks, because it was cheaper than buying actual blocks to play with.

The result of this inflation was awful. Those who thought they were well-off became paupers overnight. Exchanging your money for foreign currency was illegal, as was hoarding food and other necessities. If you wanted to survive, you were forced to break the law. Farmers who had food available in the country refused to ship it into the city. If the food made it to its destination without being stolen along the way, the money people wanted to use to pay for the produce was relatively worthless. There are heartbreaking stories of farmers dumping their milk while people starved in the cities. Policemen were pulled from their horses and the unfortunate animals were butchered right there in the street in a frantic quest for sustenance.

In response, the government tried various things, but printing more money only fed the inflationary fire and raising taxes only increased the cost of living, which again, fed inflation. Is it any wonder that during those times one such as Adolf Hitler, a charismatic nationalist who promised a bright future, came into power? The inflation didn't create Hitler, but it made Hitler possible. The people were looking for a savior, someone who was willing to do something different than their government in the past and he certainly fit the bill.

Delia DeLeest is fascinated by all things 1920s. She suspects she was once a flapper or, more probably, a bootlegger in a previous life. Her third 1920s era book, NOT LOOKING FOR TROUBLE, is being released from The Wild Rose Press at the end of October.

Disasters: RMS Lusitania

By Isabel Roman

NOTICE!

TRAVELLERS intending to embark on the Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and her allies and Great Britain and her allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles; that, in accordance with formal notice given by the Imperial German Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain, or any of her allies, are liable to destruction in those waters and that travellers sailing in the war zone on the ships of Great Britain or her allies do so at their own risk.

This ominous and foreshadowing warning was printed in all the New York newspapers three weeks before what would be the RMS Lusitania's final Atlantic crossing. The torpedoing of the Lusitania became one of the major factors for the US's entrance into the WWI theater of war.

It is probably true that the RMS Lusitania was carrying munitions to aid Britain in their fight against Germany but the attack on one of the world's most luxurious cruise liners, especially with the loss of RMS Titanic so fresh in the memories of the public, was a catastrophic miscalculation on Germany's part.

Initially, the German's defended their right when in a state of war to attack any enemy vessel. However, it soon became apparent that the world was against their position and in true back-pedalling style they reversed their position and agreed on rules of engagement. The Lusitania sank in just 18 minutes. In six minutes the forecastle was underwater. Of the 1900+ passengers, 1,195 died. The ship was just 18 miles from the coast of Ireland.

Germany justified it at the time by saying the Lusitania carried weapons (which she did) but the public didn't know this and so the outcry from both Germany, Britain, and America was immense. Her cargo had included an estimated 4,200,000 rounds of rifle cartridges, 1,250 empty shell cases, and 18 cases of non-explosive fuses, all listed in the manifest, but the cartridges were not officially classed as ammunition by the Cunard Line. (Various theories have been put forward over the years that she had also carried undeclared high explosives that were detonated by the torpedo and helped to sink her, but this has never been proven.)

Eventually, the German government issued a statement describing what the ship carried and how it had warned people not to travel on luxury ships during time of war, and the tide of German sentiment turned, but only slightly. No one advocated the killing of non-combatants. German's allies, Turkey and Austria-Hungry, criticized the sinking. It did outrage America, which was not ready to enter into any kind of global conflict, and President Wilson issued three increasingly strongly worded notes to the German government, with the last saying: the US would regard any subsequent sinkings as deliberately unfriendly.

In 1967 the wreck of the Lusitania was sold by the Liverpool & London War Risks Insurance Association to former US Navy diver John Light for £1,000. Gregg Bemis became a co-owner of the wreck in 1968, and by 1982 had bought out his partners to become sole owner. He subsequently went to court in England in 1986, the US in 1995, and Ireland in 1996 to ensure that his ownership was legally in force.

The Seasons: Bringing In A New Year

By Jennifer Linforth

Not a single season can turn without first turning over a new year. With 2010 fast upon us, why not have some fun visiting New Years traditions around the globe?

New Years Eve in Austria is known as Sylvesterbend, or the Eve of Saint Sylvester. Homes, taverns, and inns are decorated with garlands of evergreen and a punch of cinnamon, sugar, and red wine is traditionally served. Dinner is usually a suckling pig to symbolize good luck, and dozens of tiny marzipan pigs decorate the tables. Four leaf clovers are popular and often a dessert of peppermint ice cream fashioned into a clover is served. To ward off the evil spirits of the previous year, mortars are fired, and during midnight masses trumpets may be blown from church towers. The now famous Strauss concert is performed by the Vienna Philharmonic and watched by millions worldwide.

In neighboring Germany, folks would often drop molten lead into cold water in an attempt to predict the future. Dinner plates were rarely cleared as bits of food were left upon them until after midnight to ensure a well-stock larder in the new year. Carp was a popular food as it symbolized wealth.

Traveling to Denmark? Don't forget your dishes--pile broken ones at the door of your friends. Eat boiled cod, stewed kale and cured pork. End your meal with a famous ring cake of marzipan consumed at midnight.

In Ireland girls head to bed with sprigs of mistletoe, holly, or ivy leaves under their pillows to summon dreams of their future husbands. A simple chant of "Oh ivy green and holly red, tell me, tell me whom I shall wed" was often recited. An odd custom was to take a large loaf of Christmas bread outside and hammer it against closed doors and windows to drive out misfortune and let in happiness.

Happy New Year!

The Seasons: Winter Campaigns

By Carrie Lofty

Attacking Russia in the winter is just a poor, poor idea.

Ask Napoleon. And Hitler.

But even before those notable examples, we must look at Charles XII of Sweden. He braved General Winter's devastating conditions to attack Peter the Great's empire in 1707. He just happened to chose the worst winter of the 18th century, when even the salt water port in Venice froze solid. Only 19,000 Swedish troops remained by the end of Charles's disastrous campaign, effectively ending Sweden's turn as a military power.

Napoleon decided he could do it better. His Grande Armée, numbering 610,000 men, launched the French invasion of Russian in June of 1812, and actually managed to get as far as Moscow. Soldiers entered the city and began looting, the culmination of which was the Great Fire of Moscow in 1812. But by then, only one-third of all Moscow residents remained; they'd fled well in advance of the French invasion, in preparation for a swift counterattack.

The weather only came into play after the capture of Moscow. Napoleon learned of an attempted coup back in France and rushed home, leaving his generals to cope in a city devoid of resources and a scorched-earth landscape that offered no grass for cavalry horses. Eventually, as the snows began to fall, those horses became food and the army retreated.

The following graphic by statistician Charles Minard shows the extent of these losses: the beige color represents the forces entering Russia, while the black line represents the Grande Armée's diminishing strength as it fled. Click and take a look--it's very interesting, especially the temperatures listed along the bottom during the French retreat.

Some eyewitness reports, however, have starving Frenchmen surrendering even before the onset of winter. Supply lines, not necessarily General Winter, may have been more crippling. The French embarrassment over their failure in Russian may have prompted claims that the weather was to blame because, in fact, the winter of 1812-13 was relatively mild.

But the devastating losses--more than one million civilians and more than 700,000 military casualties--and the harsh lessons regarding supply lines and the weather did not deter Hitler during World War II.

The Eastern Front in the European Theater of Operations is still referred to by Russians as "The Great Patriotic War," because they viewed the conflict as a do-or-die struggle for their sovereignty and fought accordingly. The German army's Operation Barbarossa, conducted between June and December of 1941, claimed more than one million dead and over three million injured. The invading forces could see the spires of the Kremlin in Moscow when the first blizzards hit. They advanced no farther.

The connection between Napoleon's hubris and that of Hitler was not lost among his men. One German general noted in his diary: "They remembered what happened to Napoleon's Army. Most of them began to re-read Caulaincourt's grim account of 1812 ["With Napoleon in Russia"]. That had a weighty influence at this critical time in 1941. I can still see Von Kluge trudging through the mud from his sleeping quarters to his office and standing before the map with Caulaincourt's book in his hand."

The Soviet counter-attack did not wait for spring. Instead they launched their ski-clad armies westward in January, splitting the German front. The following winter, when the German 6th Army surrounded Stalingrad in a deadly, months-long siege, other panzer divisions tried to reinforce the offensive but stopped only 40 miles short. The siege ended with the Germans in retreat.

In January of 1944, convinced that the Red Army must be on its last legs, Hitler ordered his men to hold the Dnieper line--the last line of defense between Germany and Russian territories. But the Russians liberated Odessa and Sevastopol by spring. After that, the Russian forces would not be limited to defensive strategies and sieges, but continued aggressive offenses no matter the conditions. For example, they entered Warsaw in January 1945.

I think this is where we must end with a famous quote from The Princess Bride, where Vizzini said to Westley: "You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders, the most famous of which is never get involved in a land war in Asia."

And certainly never attack the Russians in winter!

Guest Author: TJ Bennett

This week we welcome back TJ Bennett as she celebrates the release of her second book, THE PROMISE.

In a dangerous world, sometimes the greatest risk is love...

In 1525, Günter Behaim is a professional soldier in the service of Emperor Charles V. Günter has been betrayed by love and promises not kept. As a result, he has sworn to make few promises of his own and keep those unto death. However, when his friend is mortally wounded while saving Günter's life, he gives a pledge to marry his betrothed. To keep his promise, Günter must use every weapon in his romantic arsenal to convince the reluctant woman to marry him. As his passion for her grows, he realizes he is falling in love. Is he prepared to risk his worst fear: having his heart rejected once more?

The Spanish beauty Alonsa García de Aranjuéz is determined to withstand Günter's relentless pursuit. Haunted by a gypsy's curse on any man who loves her, Alonsa yearns for Günter, but fear for his safety forces her to rebuff him. As she struggles to deny the growing attraction between them, she begins to realize that fate may have other plans. With danger surrounding them, will Alonsa bite from the forbidden fruit? Or will Günter be bitten instead by the mysterious misfortune that seems to plague any with the courage to become Alonsa's love?

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Welcome back! So what's so unusual about THE PROMISE?

Well, the hero of THE PROMISE, Günter Behaim, was introduced in my first book, THE LEGACY. That was set in Martin Luther's Reformation Germany, and during my research on the history of the period, I came across information about the Landsknechts, or the German mercenary companies hired first by Emperor Maximilian and then by Charles V to fight their wars throughout Europe.

Standing armies were rare during this time; many rulers, kings, and princes hired mercenary companies. I was fascinated by the lives these men--and the women who loved them--led. It was harsh and difficult, but at the same time compelling and exciting. I felt the mercenaries who lived, fought, and died during those times must have been extraordinary and well worthy of a story of their own. The story begins just days before the pivotal Battle of Pavia, a turning point in history between medieval and modern warfare. I don't believe I've ever seen a historical romance set in this particular time with this subject matter, so that makes it pretty unusual right there.

How does the setting influence the story?

Of necessity, it is a darker book than THE LEGACY, which was about an arranged marriage between a runaway nun and a middle-class printer. In THE PROMISE, we are dealing with a mercenary soldier, Günter, whose livelihood is fighting, killing, and avoiding being killed. The heroine, Alonsa, is the daughter of a blade merchant who has seen her share of violence as well. I had to deal with these elements in the story yet keep the focus on an impossible yet extremely romantic relationship, and that made it edgier and more adventurous than the first novel. But it is still a wonderful story of the triumph of love over impossible odds, as is THE LEGACY.

Since we are focusing our month long spotlight on literature and education, can you tell us what role those played in this book?

My hero is a Renaissance man (despite some of the advertising copy that suggests this is a Medieval, sorry to say). He joined the army after being jilted by his beloved sometime before the beginning of the first book. Before that, however, his backstory was that he was studying art and music in Florence, one of the great centers of learning and culture. Günter absorbed much while he was a student, and throughout the book, we see his various artistic talents manifest themselves in his ability to speak multiple languages, his skill at composing music, and his knowledge of poetry and art. He even composes a love song to Alonsa, one that leads to an emotional scene before they must part for what they believe is the last time. I loved taking this rough and tumble soldier and layering him with these romantic, sensitive qualities. It makes him a complex hero, not easy to pin down--my favorite kind.

Thanks for stopping by Unusual Historicals and telling us about your book!

Thank you, and let me invite your visitors to come learn more about THE PROMISE and its connected novel, THE LEGACY, at my website. They can also participate in my May contest, read excerpts, and view photos on my gallery pages. I'll be happy to answer any comments posted on this Unusual Historicals blog.

Reviews:

Romantic Times Magazine BOOK Reviews: Four Stars!

Passion, intrigue and romance distinguish this wonderful tale. The well-defined characters and fast pace will keep your attention from the first page to the last. Passion and humor are seamlessly inserted into this tale of love and adventure, and the emotional conclusion is very satisfying.

Night Owl Romance: 4.5 star Top Pick
THE PROMISE is "passionate, enchanting, and moving."

Eye on Romance's Historical Romance Writers: "I enjoyed Ms. Bennett's first book THE LEGACY and this book is just as good....The journey these two people take is one of true love."

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Thanks so much for joining us once again, TJ, and best of luck with THE PROMISE! Readers, would you like a copy of TJ's debut, THE LEGACY? If so, leave a comment or a question. I'll draw a winner next Sunday. Good luck!

Thursday Excerpt: TJ Bennett

Thursdays on Unusual Historicals mean excerpts! Yay! This week we're welcoming back TJ Bennett, who's celebrating the release of her second book, THE PROMISE, set in the Holy Roman Empire of the 16th century. This is the follow-on to THE LEGACY, which we featured back in June of 2008, and tells the story of Wolf Behaim's brother, Günter.

Make sure to join us on Sunday when TJ will be here to talk about THE PROMISE and give away a copy!

In 1525, Günter Behaim is a professional soldier in the service of Emperor Charles V. Günter has been betrayed by love and promises not kept. As a result, he has sworn to make few promises of his own and keep those unto death. However, when his friend is mortally wounded while saving Günter's life, he gives a pledge to marry his betrothed. To keep his promise, Günter must use every weapon in his romantic arsenal to convince the reluctant woman to marry him. As his passion for her grows, he realizes he is falling in love. Is he prepared to risk his worst fear: having his heart rejected once more?

The Spanish beauty Alonsa García de Aranjuéz is determined to withstand Günter's relentless pursuit. Haunted by a gypsy's curse on any man who loves her, Alonsa yearns for Günter, but fear for his safety forces her to rebuff him. As she struggles to deny the growing attraction between them, she begins to realize that fate may have other plans. With danger surrounding them, will Alonsa bite from the forbidden fruit? Or will Günter be bitten instead by the mysterious misfortune that seems to plague any with the courage to become ... Alonsa's love?

***

Alonsa sank down onto her knees, slapping the ground with an open hand repeatedly. "Again! Siempre! Always!" She broke off into a stream of rapid Spanish, but even Günter understood that she railed against the Fates.

"Señora!" he called, rising and grasping her from behind. He lifted her, afraid she would injure herself. "Alonsa, stop!"

She thrashed in his arms, and he turned her swiftly around. He shook her again, but she ignored him, and he feared she would lose hold of her senses in her grief. He realized he had two choices. He could either slap her in order to shock her back to sanity, or kiss her. As he had never raised a hand to a woman in his life, he chose the easier of the two.

Günter gripped her head and pressed his hard mouth to hers.

Dios mío.

Alonsa could see, through a blur of tears, Günter's open eyes. He was not even trying and still he made her heart pound in reaction, her knees go weak with desire. His mouth barely moved, yet she felt the lightning heat of his kiss streak through her. She went limp against him from the effect, and his arms encircled her. The moment she stopped moving, he drew back.

She gazed up at him stupidly.

"Forgive me," he murmured, and the warm spice of his breath fanned across her lips. "You were upset. I was losing you. I didn't know what else to do."

He stared down at her, and she felt a subtle tightening in the tension of his arms. His eyes drifted to her mouth, and he frowned. He slowly reached up and traced a callused finger across her bottom lip.

"Was I too rough?" he whispered.

Her breath caught in her throat. The feel of his finger sent little shivers across her skin. It sent mysterious messages throughout her body to hidden places long restrained. It unlocked doors chained shut for far too many years. And it was just a finger, just a stroke upon her lips. What could he do with that hand elsewhere?

"Was I?" he repeated, and absently trailed the finger across her chin, down her jaw, and up the sensitive skin of her cheek.

He tilted his head as he stroked the shell of her ear. She could see his eyes following its progress. He barely touched her, and yet she trembled. He must have felt the tremors, for his gaze returned to hers.

He moved to release her. "Are you cold? I'll get you a blanket--"

Instinct made her clutch at him, though reason screamed a warning in her head.

"No." Please kiss me again.

She gazed up at him in unbearable anticipation.

His eyes narrowed. He looked at her mouth, stared at it for so long she could count the time with the beat of the blood flowing through her body. Then slowly he lowered his head to hers once more. A scant hairsbreadth from her lips, he stopped.

She made a sound like a whimper. She could not help it. She should be ashamed, but she was not. She tilted her face, closed the last little distance between them, and pressed her lips to his.

Expansion & Invasion: I Was 11 During the Franco-Prussian War...

By Jennifer Linforth

I was eleven when I saw the first wrinkle of worry crack the well-crafted mask of indifference that was my brother's face.

All my younger years my brother, Philippe Georges Marie, the Comte de Chagny, was in charge. A philanthropist, womanizer and pillar of Paris, an outrageous risk taker and man of irreproachable conscience and heart—he was always smiling, always in control never--fearful.

Never, until the echo of Prussian boots fell upon the muddy streets of Paris, dull against the cobbles yet echoing loudly the change that was to come. The eighteenth of January was the day a new German empire was declared at Versailles, a place of revelry for my brother and his kin, a place where I, as the Vicomte de Chagny, longed to one day roam.

I would not be roaming there during the winter of my eleventh year.

The comte tried to explain to me best he could why several enormous armies were established in France's provinces--this in light of the German blockade of Paris. All I knew was I could not go to the city I so adored as a child. I could not taste youthful pleasure in the seat of a salon. I could not dine at my favorite cafés. My estate became my prison. Chateau de Changy became a tomb as we avoided being seen outside its marbled walls. The French troops were marching toward Paris, I was told, to attack the Germans from all sides.

The Germans were ill-pleased. They bombarded my beloved city, which only tightened our French resolve. "We will prevail, mon frere." My brother's words were the only thing keeping my youthful and rash head from leaping upon my horse and joining the ranks. Within a few weeks time war broke out across my country as the German armies lay scattered--for they were not prepared for an occupation the of the whole of France.

I thought we had prevailed. How wrong I was. My eleven-year-old mind could not comprehend the months that had passed since January, and by October 10th fighting erupted near Orléans. I remember the wrinkles deepening upon my brother's brow as he received word of the battle from Duc de Orléans. Would Chagny be next? The Germans were victorious as first--making my heart sink like a hunk of lead--until word came that my countrymen were triumphant at Coulmiers. At last! A light had cracked in the gloom of this war and November looked to belong to France. But the Germans--well-trained, numerous, with their needle guns--joined their forces from north to south and my countrymen abandoned Orléans by bleak and white December.

War continued until January of 1871. Paris was starving, innocent people--unprivileged, like I--were left in the cold streets, and my brother's ami, Jules Favre, traveled to Versailles to discuss peace with Bismark.

By now, I was approaching my twelfth year, and Bismark was a name I hated.

France was victorious in these talks--to a degree. Bismark permitted food convoys to enter Paris and I was left slightly guilty, for my belly was never empty through all this. Chagny had is secret stores--for didn't all nobility have secrets kept from the coffers of their governments? Bismark placed conditions on this aid--the Government of the National Defense was to surrender key fortresses outside of Paris to his Prussian army. Opposed, but realistic they could not defend Paris without their forts, the Government gave in. Our president resigned. Favre took over.

He surrendered two days later...

It would not be until 10th May that the Treaty of Frankfurt was signed and the war ended. Yet it would not be over not for those with titles to our name.

Paris was changed. Our government was changed. I watched The Commune rise. I avoided the dungeons, the anger, and the resentment of the lower class thanks to my brother. As I grew into my title, my title would grow to a fossil of a bygone era thanks to the first dull echoes of Prussian boots on muddy cobbles.

Many years later I would see the Communard dungeons deep below in the cellars of the Opera Garnier. I would not be placed there by the lower class Parisians resentful of my titled name. I would be shackled and chained there by a deviant madman--a Phantom of the Opera. But that is a story for another time. Until then, I would leave my legacy carved on the cold stone walls....

R. C.

It was then, the first wrinkle of worry cracked the well-crafted mask of indifference that was my face...

~Raoul Jean-Paul Marie, Vicomte de Chagny.

Expansion & Invasion: Operation Barbarossa

By Carrie Lofty

One of the reasons I'm fascinated with WWII is because of the sheer scale of the destruction. My mind cannot grapple with the numbers. Researching and studying smaller parts of the larger conflict does help--how a single family survived, or the exploits of a particular commander. Only through such examples can I come to grips with portions of the carnage.

Because, frankly, the entire scope is beyond comprehension.

Take Operation Barbarossa, the German invasion of the Soviet Union in June of 1941. No other battle in the history of mankind used as much materiel, covered as much territory, or took as many lives.


Axis army divisions under German authority included forces from Romania, Finland, Italy, Croatia, Slovakia, Hungary, and Spain, and numbered approximately 5.5 million armed combatants, employing 3,600 tanks and nearly 5,000 aircraft. The Soviet army with forces from Russia, Poland, Belarus, Moldova, the Ukraine, and the Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia numbered nearly three million troops and had access to 15,000 tanks and 40,000 aircraft.

Are the number boggling your mind yet? Eight and a half MILLION soldiers.

The entire battle raged over seven months, during which the Axis coalition occupied more than 500,000 square miles of territory populated by 75 million citizens. As troops moved eastward, Hitler ordered the main thrust of his forces to swing south and take Kiev--diverting attention away from Moscow for four crucial weeks. This allowed Moscow, under the leadership of crafty General Zhukov, to dig in and prepare for an eventual attack.

The attack on Kiev is considered the largest encirclement of a city, with more than 500,000 Soviet soldiers completely surrounded and forced to surrender. Of those captured and taken to POW camps, only one in three ever saw their homes again. Attrition rates among captured soldiers on both sides were high because of winter conditions, exhaustion, malnutrition, and abuse.

Back in Moscow, Zhukov declared martial law and ordered the city's women to dig trenches, reinforce buildings, continue manufacturing munitions, and to prepare for all-out battle. Stalin stayed in the city and regularly delivered speeches, thereby bolstering morale. With Napoleon's failed invasion in mind, they thought they could hold out until winter.


But months of fighting had left the Red Army vastly depleted. Stalin's spies in Tokyo assured him that the Japanese planned no immediate assault on the eastern edge of Russia, so Zhukov was permitted to call in 30 divisions of skiing soldiers from Siberia. The Axis had no idea.

The weather turned, with temperatures dropping to records of -30C (-22F). Snow fell. Tanks and men froze. But the brief thaw that followed proved much worse, bogging down heavy vehicles on all sides. Only once the ground froze entirely did the Axis make additional eastward progress toward Moscow. The snows were so thick that the bodies of animals and men were stacked along the roadside to delineate where the roads ended and the fields began. Conditions completely grounded the Luftwaffe. Back on the German home front, coats and warm weather gear were collected from the citizens and shipped eastward. The Russian soldiers, by contrast, never lacked for winter clothing.

The Axis fought to within a mere 15 miles of the Soviet capital. Fifteen miles. But that's as far as the got. The newly built-up Soviet forces began a counter-attack on December 5, pushing the Axis back nearly 200 miles in less than four weeks.

As for total casualties, we're back to numbers that boggle the mind. The German army suffered more than a quarter million dead and half million wounded, with additional casualties among Axis divisions. The Soviets suffered 800,000 dead, countless more wounded, and 3.3 million soldiers captured. This does not count civilian casualties throughout the Soviet possessions. Stalin used the evacuation of German POWs as an excuse for ethnic cleansing in Russia, exporting 1.4 million Volga Germans, Crimean Tatars, Chechens, and Ingushs to places such as Kazakhstan.

The battle was in no way decisive, despite unimaginable losses on both sides. Operation Barbarossa was only the first major offensive in the Eastern Front of the European Theater. Germany went on to lay siege to both Stalingrad and Leningrad, only to have both offenses repulsed. The scope of destruction, and the number of soldiers and citizens killed as these two massive empires collided will never truly be known. And as for me, I will never be able to make sense of those horrific numbers.