A fantasy novel about a crime, an enchanted House, a letter, a love. Whenever Mark McLaughlin listens, a sympathetic response will follow. Barbara Krauss, Martha Saalfeld Award winner in 1997, has submitted this story to a letter and a cursed House in 1994 – and thus aroused the enthusiasm of a Publisher. “This is yes a whole new sound!”, was the verdict of the profound connoisseur of literature. Unfortunately, the novel was not published at that time. After extensive revisions, the book has seen now but the light of the world: as E-book and paperback. Prologue: Martha suggested Freinsheim me, than it would be possible to suggest me where this story should occur. As wasn’t sure she would have occurred at all.
So did this nothingness, as if this story still might, choose their location as it is just conceivable that water chose the number of degrees of freezing even himself, on a beautiful day like there’s this zero. So, as you may defy the laws of nature, because it also a coincidence could be that the simple oxide of hydrogen froze at zero degrees and at one hundred sott. She looked so clean the cigarette mouthpiece, at that time, in her strict pants suit, with the fresh Perm, the fine glasses. When I think of them today, then I’m sure that she smoked their cigarettes during our conversation with mouthpiece, although I on the other hand strictly had forbidden her to smoke in my house: for hygienic reasons and because their smoking reminded me of my own addiction, that I had overcome only with psychological help under duress and much too late: on the onethat came because I suffered years of bronchitis, which itself could not repair under the permanent influence of tar and condensate, and to another at the age of thirty-five, what a half could be death sentence for a woman and for me would have been a half, not all would be quite different with me.