Behr? Are you hungry?” She was feeling a little peckish herself, and she needed something to keep her hands busy. Between a combination of brutal punches, knee jabs and the music, Behr didn’t hear a...

Don’t suffocate in there.

Remove the computer chipslodged in your brain before they convince youthat you’ve gone insane…Take a bite out of realityinstead of becominga reality byte.

You are a more powerful person than you might have ever imagined.” Maxwell D. Kalist.

You’re a fat cunt and you can’t add up to save your life.” Dimitri Pissec.

Men circle like bees around honey, buzzing to communicate their sexual despair.

Not happening, bud. I’m just that fucking good. I better go do some damage control. Don’t hurt any more subs. Pick on the big bastards. They may bite back, but their egos are delicate.

Well, then. I’ll leave you two to work on clearing that schedule.” Waving, Cheyenne left the kitchen and headed upstairs to her room to lie down.

You need a father figure in your life.

He leaned back in his seat throwing his hands behind his head; sort of an open offer for the entire bar to get a good look at what he was working with and it was...

If there’s grass on the pitch,” and gives his small cock a quick squeeze under the desk.

Opposite Pissec sits ghoulish Gottfried Baumauer, a tall, skinny workaholic with dark-ringed eye sockets and long, yellowing smoker’s fingers. He’s thirty-eight. He doesn’t say much. He drinks a lot of tea – likes it strong...

I hate working with sexy women.” Dimitri Pissec.

Katya, snap your mouth shut, close the door, and have a seat,” Dexter commands and I listen.

Vanilla is fine but Kink is so much better…

You’ve never really loved your wife, have you, Ridley?

Six years of dreams would end in eternal love, or an eternity of loss.

Pissec approaches Pamela Geiger’s cubicle, itching in rhythm with her. He wants to ask her a question while Kalist is out of earshot. She’s not a grass, he’s sure, but stupid people die first.

Baumauer sits at home in silence in the evenings planning how to impress his rigidly strict father who’s in his late seventies, but who still enforces the same dynamic between himself and his three, guilt-ridden...

A black-haired bitch with man’s hands, widow Liza Van der Bruggenziltch-Finch makes all the important decisions. She is a power-hungry dominatrix. Orwell is her slave. (No one ever sees him.)

And when I slide my tongue between your legs, I’ll lose myself in the sweetness of you. I want to watch your face as the orgasm builds inside you. I want to feel you tremble...

I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not...

Only men with intelligence, confidence and absolutely no empathy at all can progress upstairs.

People who make snide comments to authors like “anyone can write a book” or “well, you did it, so obviously I can/it can’t be that hard” or poke at a book because it’s “romance” or...

The beagles are partying under Geiger’s desk.

Love is a relation that starts before you are born and survives even after you die…

Do I need to fire the little prat yet?” Liza Van der Bruggenziltch-Finch.

Hard and raw, soft and sentimental. How can I know what she wants until I see how she reacts?

It’s late and most of the clerks are at home in their beds, dreaming of swimming in pools filled with real money.

Maxwell D. Kalist is a receiving teller at a city bank, Orwell and Finch, where he runs an efficient department of twenty two clerks and twelve junior clerks. He carries a leather-bound vade mecum everywhere...

If for some reason we get separated, I want you to wait for me. I’ll find you, I promise. – Gabriel Emerson

Heads swivel. Whispers erupt. As Kalist returns to his desk, bone cane by his side, he indulges, briefly, in horse practice, neighing lightly as he scrolls through a few mental images of busty secretary, Geiger,...

I guess if you get too close, the twinkling stops; they don’t look like stars anymore.

Obelmäker is eating at his desk, a habit both Baumauer and Pissec find repulsive.

Everyone should feel alive. Should smash up against passion and danger, against temptation and anticipation. You have to push the envelope sometimes,because otherwise how do you know what your limits really are?

Without pride, man becomes a parasite – and there are already too many parasites.

Each day of the week, Kalist indulges himself in a different, secret ritual. On Mondays, he wears cologne. On Tuesdays, he eats meat for lunch. On Wednesdays, he places a bet after work. On Thursdays,...

Either I’ve got a wart on my nose they find curious, or I’ve grown a tail, Albie Merani muttered to himself. Just then he thought. I’d better get a move on, got work to do....

Bride of Beimerstetten, bride of Beimerstetten, bride of Beimerstetten, naked bride of Beimerstetten,” and he imagines a procession of proud military men blowing trumpets as they stomp through a bomb-devastated town to the tune of...

Were the stars against him? A woman’s fingers are quicker in the sky and shine more brightly.

I’m warning you because you’re young and vulnerable. He’s a dirty, lying, conniving piece of shit and he’s dangerous.” Gottfried Baumauer.

What we both want. But think long and hard before you come to me. There are things that I like. Things that I want and expect from the woman in my bed. And I don’t...

To Kalist, Baumauer’s just a timber bridge in need of a good hot fire.

Kalist is in his office with the door shut, secretly adding the final touches to his new Brichacek doll; she’s got rosy, plaster cheeks and his nose hairs for pubes, although he thinks he might...

Because if I let myself feel the pain and the anger, I think it might kill me. Or I might kill someone else. I know it’s wrong to feel that way about God and I...

Baumauer wants a life in which he cannot be belittled, judged or controlled by worse men.

When I make love to you, Lanie, I want you to feel every inch of me buried deep inside of you, loving you, worshiping your body…

Secrets are dangerous.” Gottfried Baumauer.

Someday, I want to touch you only with my voice and tease you only with my words. I want to watch as you quiver with longing, as your body goes soft and slick. I want...

Shame comes in different doses.