Der See (“The Lake”) is the German translation of my little thriller The Writer, published earlier this year. It is a story of which I am particularly fond, mainly because of its “tight” writing and the way it asks the reader to do some backtracking and blank-filling on their own.
Eine Autostunde entfernt in Richtung der Berge liegt ein See. Ein ruhiger, schöner Flecken Erde, fast wie ein norwegischer Fjord. Unzählige Seiten füllte ich dort, seitdem ich das Schreiben ernsthaft betreibe. Da mein Foto nun auf Buchumschläge gedruckt wird, bin ich wohl tatsächlich ein ernsthafter Schreiberling geworden. Der kräftige Vorschuß, den ich für mein zweites Buch bekommen habe, spricht auch nicht unbedingt dagegen.
Drei Monate, nachdem mein Debütroman veröffentlicht wurde, gehe ich wieder zur Schule, und wenn auch nur für eine Nacht. Nur, um mal zu schauen, wer fett, wer verheiratet und wer sonst noch berühmt geworden ist während der letzten zehn Jahre. Continue reading
Soul in Chains
“Why you of all willing flesh?”
“Because there is no-one willing to go to as great a length as I am.”
The Man surveyed her answer. Rated it. Catalogued it. The Man would catalogued them all, no mistake, and use them in any way he saw fit.
Her alias was as classy as it was truthful – “eternalbonds”. Honest. Lower case. A bit clingy for, say, a dating site, but a dark promise on the forum opening up in Bethany’s browser. Once logged in, she studied the sub-fora’s titles with rising heartbeat.
Welcome, Announcements and Technical Stuff were quickly dismissed. With a click she teleported her digital self into BDSM. Whipping had its own area, as well as Ponyplay. Bethany had no interest in the fleeting pleasure of being whipped, and she didn’t want to play, neither as pony nor as human being. Choosing Bondage, she kept the cursor hovering over the button to create a new thread. Continue reading
First of all: The story you are about to get a glimpse of is ready to roll, so you won’t have to starve through yet another month without new content. I reckon to submit it somewhere next week. Of course there is a certain reason for this delay: Soul in Chains was written on commission. But halfway through the very fruitful contact with the person who had requested it broke off, now leaving me with a work in need of final clearance. Although I believe to have hit all the right notes, I welcome said person to do the Final Cut. Continue reading
The one tacking me was of course Miss Cuntling – I don’t know why I even bother mentioning this explicitly. Soon I was tall on my hooves and ready for my harness with the high-collared leather yoke. For the ensemble an upgrade in form of a new crotch strap was available. Kandrin made sure I saw her fitting it. Replacing the simple belt was a length of braided leather, partly split like its predecessor. Somehow, in my capacity of deputy kit manager, my first thought was that the interwoven design would be difficult to clean. Those worries were quickly pushed aside by the prospect of multiple sharp leather edges working between my legs. Continue reading
The sudden change of the operator’s tone and hectic noises in the background, soundtracked by unintelligible voices going back and forth, told her that she’d guessed correctly.
“Yes, can you― would you please wait a sec…?”
Another period of time went by, its duration slightly embarrassing for an organisation with a four letter acronym.
Then a second man addressed Denise, and with far more composure.
“Good morning, Ms Carlisle. My name is John Wollny. Please tell me how I may help you.”
“Who are you, exactly?”
“I support the dialogue between parties in situations like this.”
“Then please support my dialogue with the Housekeeper.” Continue reading