In ‘Time Lies’, a quietly devious mystery-thriller set in Cold War Germany, a reluctant serial killer realises he has been murdering the wrong people.
But there is hope for him yet…
Karl wakes up in a locked room, a prisoner once again. But this unfamiliar place is no penitentiary. And this time he volunteered to be here.
A tragic accident took everything that was dear to Albert. Now everybody’s favourite twin sits in his wheelchair and contemplates the ultimate sin.
Dagmar was taken in by the church as a baby and has grown into a young woman with a ferocious appetite – and it’s not for food.
Tobias is the other twin, the also-ran whose greatest talent lies in impersonating his brother. Tobias’ skills are less developed when it comes to killing.
But make no mistake – he’ll catch on…
Four different people. Four different stories. One murderer. Maybe their lifelines crossed years ago.
I’ve been writing for many, many years (songs, film criticism, film scripts) — novels, however, only for the last three. I live in Spain, am putting finishing touches to my third book and plotting the fourth.
While my books are not autobiographical in a literal sense, there is a lot of me in them. Like most people, I have created a comfort zone around myself that attempts to emulate aspects of my childhood. I have spent more than half of my life outside of my native Germany. I have willingly – and happily – lived and travelled on a shoestring and off, in places in and out of Europe and put myself in situations where I’m the proverbial ‘outsider looking in’; close to, but on the margins of, well, for a lack of a better word, ‘society’.
That’s where I feel at home, no matter whether it’s South America, the Middle East, the Caribbean or Spain (where I’ve lived for seven years). I always endeavour to learn the language and adapt as much as I can. And I’m successful at it, to a point.
And that’s where my narratives set out from, my personal vantage point from the outside peeking in. The drama arises from the protagonists’ yearning to be part of something that’s essential alien to them, but without getting too close. Of course they get burned, sometimes severely. There’s such an enormous potential for antagonism that I think I could write for the rest of my life.
That, at least, is the plan.