Martin Paris Storm

1. Auflage 2026
ISBN: 979-8-31782994-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 224 Seiten

Reihe: Paris Storm

'Paris Storm' is a love story set in April of 1973, when an American man and a French woman meet by chance in a bar on the Champs-Élysées.

Richard Martin published his first novel, 'Don't Let the Past Remind of Us What We Are Not Now,' in the summer of 2023 at the age of 75. 'Our Magical Summer,' his second novel was published in the summer of 2024, making latest novel, 'Paris Storm,' his third publication. Richard started writing around the same age as when Grandma Moses began painting. Now retired from his professional career, where he participated in diverse roles in teaching, broadcasting, and journalism, Richard spends his time writing alongside showcasing his talent in community theatre, playing his guitar, and singing karaoke. He holds a bachelor's degree from Indiana University and a master's degree from Webster University. Additionally, he has taken online courses from prestigious institutions such as Yale, Stanford, the University of Edinburgh, and the University of Copenhagen. Native to the state of Indiana, Richard still resides in his home state alongside his extraordinary wife, cherishing their shared joy of three children and six grandchildren.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Martin, Richard

Leseproben

Chapter 1

It was 11:00 p.m. on Sunday, April 8, 1973, in Paris, France. Three men were sitting at a table at the La Boheme Bar on the Champs Elysees. Alain, a Parisian, had lived in this beautiful city all of his life except for the year he had studied abroad in the United States as a college student at Stanford University. Oliver, who was British, had lived the past year partly in Paris and partly in London. The third man was Jason, an American, who had been in Paris for a little over three months. Jason moved from Madison, Indiana, to Paris in January to take a position at the University of Paris-Sorbonne teaching contemporary American and British literature and creative writing. The men were on their second bottle of Picpoul de Pinet, an inexpensive yet tasty white wine.

Alain, who spoke better English than most Americans, asked, “Jason, do you teach your American and British literature classes in French?”

“No, I teach them in English.”

“But the Sorbonne claims that all of their classes are taught in French,” Oliver chimed in.

“Oliver, that was before the university was fractured in 1971. When I read about that happening, I sent a letter along with my resume to the president of the University of Paris-Sorbonne, where the humanities department remained after the school branched out in various directions. I explained that I understood that all classes were taught in French, but I thought that this splitting of the university would be a great opportunity to try something different.”

“What kind of response did you get to your letter and resume?” Alain inquired.

“I got no response for a long time, Alain. Then, maybe six months later, I received a very nice letter from Chancellor Louis Aumont. He told me that he would take my proposal under consideration and get back to me as soon as possible. He also suggested that I apply to teach at the American University of Paris.”

“What are your credentials, anyway, Jason?” Oliver asked.

“I’ll tell you mine if each of you tells yours,” Jason replied.

Both Alain and Oliver nodded their heads in agreement.

Jason continued, “I received a bachelor’s degree from Indiana University in 1969, with double majors in literature and theatre. I received a master’s degree in creative writing from Indiana University in 1970. My doctoral degree from Yale, which I got in 1972, is in English literature. For the two years I was at Yale, I worked as a teaching assistant and taught classes in literature and creative writing. It was in the middle of 1972, after I had earned my PhD, that I received the job offer from Monsieur Aumont. Now, it’s your turn.”

“I’ll go next,” Alain said. “My undergraduate degree in physiology is from the original Sorbonne in 1968. That includes the year I spent in Palo Alto, California, at Stanford. Then I got my advanced degree in pharmacy at the Sorbonne in 1970, just before it split apart. I have been working as a pharmacist at the Monoprix on rue du Temple since June 1970. All right, Oliver, it’s your turn. I know you went to Oxford, but that’s about all I know of your education.”

“Yes, Alain, and Jason, my undergraduate degree in business, with a major in accounting, came from Oxford in 1970. I then went to the London School of Economics for my master’s degree in accounting. Since July of 1972, I have had my own accounting firm, with an office in London and one here in Paris. I started alone, but I now have seven other accountants and four clerical employees working for me.”

“It sounds to me as though we all got great educations, and we have done something with them. I’m impressed,” Jason said.

“Jason, it seems as though you are something of a Renaissance man. Along with the sterling academic credentials you have had, and still have, a lot of irons in the fire,” Oliver said.

“I guess you might say that, Oliver. While at Indiana University, I played on the baseball team. I spent a lot of time in the theatre department and appeared in several plays. I even appeared in a couple of plays at Yale during the years I was there. I like variety. It is the spice of life, you know.”

“But that’s not all, is it, Jason? I’ve heard you play guitar and sing and you are really good. You told us that you were in a band while at Indiana University. And the one time I was in your apartment, I saw two novels on your bookshelf that you authored,” Oliver continued.

“You are correct, sir, and you are quite observant. I have just started work on my third novel.”

“You sound like a Renaissance man to me, Jason,” Alain said. “Musician, author, athlete, college professor, and thespian.”

“Enough about me,” Jason remarked. “Everyone has a variety of interests, and I know you two do. Oliver, I know you play piano or organ.”

“Both. I’ve also written several songs, but I’ve never tried to publish them or get them to a recording artist. I don’t think John Lennon or Paul McCartney need any outside material,” Oliver chuckled.

“I play the flute,” Alain chimed in. “Maybe we should start a band.”

“Capital idea, Alain,” Oliver quipped.

“We’ll have to talk more about this potential band of ours,” Jason said.

“Let’s move on, gentlemen,” Alain said. “What about the women in our lives?”

Jason spoke, “What about them? Please tell us about the women in your life, Alain.”

“There are no ‘women’ in my life anymore. Just one woman. I have fallen deeply in love with Cosette Lambert, and we are to be married this summer. I will insist that you two gentlemen attend the wedding. My love life will not suffer. Cosette is the best lover I’ve ever had. Who’s next?”

“I currently have a girlfriend in London. It’s not serious yet, but I believe it could become serious. The young lady’s name is Annie Hughes,” Oliver said.

Jason said, “I look forward to meeting Cosette and Annie one day soon.”

Sitting at a table by herself, just around the corner from where the three men sat, was a young Parisienne. Although she could not see the men, she could hear very plainly what they were saying while she sat and sipped her sherry.

After thinking about it for some time, she finally picked up her glass, rounded the corner, and approached the table where the men sat. She spoke perfect English with a beautiful French accent. “Gentlemen, hello. My name is Nicole Durand. I must apologize to you because my table, just around the corner there, was so close to yours that I could pretty much hear everything that you had to say. I swear that I was not trying to eavesdrop. I couldn’t help hearing.”

Oliver replied, “Well, that’s a bit embarrassing, I must say.”

“Why? None of you said anything that should embarrass you. I’ll admit I was rather impressed.”

“Have a seat, Nicole Durand, and I’ll buy you another sherry,” Jason said. “Is that your job here at La Boheme, getting men to buy you drinks?”

“Now you’ve hurt my feelings. I don’t work here, and I don’t want you to buy me a drink. In fact, I would like to buy a round of sherry for all of us. How would that be?”

“Great,” answered Oliver.

“But of course,” replied Alain.

“I apologize, Nicole. Yes, I’ll gladly have a sherry with you. I hope you’ll forgive my comment. You do realize that all up and down the Champs Elysees, in almost every bar one goes into, there are attractive women who get men to buy them drinks. And you are a very attractive woman.”

“Thank you. You are a very attractive man. Yes, I do know that, and really there’s no need to apologize.”

“I’ll call the waiter over, Nicole,” Alain said. “Hey, Jo Jo!” He motioned him over to their table.

“Should I order in French or in English?” Nicole asked.

“It doesn’t matter, Nicole. Jo Jo speaks perfectly good English. He also speaks perfectly good French, which is a good thing since he is French,” Jason chuckled.

Jo Jo approached their table. “Oui?”

“Jo Jo, four sherries, please,” Nicole requested.

He replied, “Yes, of course. I’ll be right back with them.”

Jason looked across the table at the gorgeous woman and said, “Nicole, you know an awful lot about us, and we know nothing about you. Do you care to share with us? How old are you anyway?”

“I’m twenty-three years old. How old are you?”

Jason answered, “I’m twenty-five, so is Alain, and Oliver is twenty-six. Where do you work, Nicole?”

“I work at the Lido. I started there two years ago as one of the famous Bluebell Girls, but now I am a featured dancer, and I occasionally sing as well.”

“At the Lido, cool,” said Alain. “You are certainly beautiful enough to work there. Why aren’t you there now?”

“This is my day off. I’ll be back to...