Quicksands

By May Koliander

For you out there who know that love has more facets than the brightest diamond.

Still grieving, 22-year-old Céleste rashly takes on the tricky mission entrusted to her by her family doctor who is striving to perfect a cure for the disease that killed her mother.
Once across the Atlantic, far from home in the beautiful Bavarian Alps, Céleste's carefully laid plan goes haywire, stirring up a hornet's nest. On the run for her life, she crosses the path of the Count of Soulanges, master of the enchanting island of Olor. The voyage of self-discovery Céleste embarks on at the hands of the Count takes an even more sinister turn when an unexpected ally breaks the spell Olor has cast over her, forcing her to face the web of lies ensnaring her. No one is true blue and the bitter decisions she has to make to survive and map out her life are all hers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: May Koliander
• Release date: Jan 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9782970088257

May Koliander

I was born in the States, the outcome of an Oklahoma - Pennsylvania love story, but bred in Europe. My taste for stories started a long time ago with Mom reading to us every evening for hours and giving us free access to the stash of Classics Illustrated a mile high she had thrown into the great ocean liner trunks along with other artefacts, such as vegetable peelers and pie tins, when she decided to cross the seas with her brood. As we grew in years, we graduated from Uncle Wiggly, Uncle Remus and Pogo to the great epics and then on to the world's classics. I still remember my brother's laughter when we got to The Pickwick Papers and must confess I fell asleep during most of The Brothers Karamazov, but was totally enthralled by War and Peace. I sometimes try to draw up a list of my most loved books, something like a top ten. It would read - today - like this : Lolita by V. Nabokov War With The Newts by K. Capek God's Grace by B. Malamud Anna Karenin by L. Tolstoy La Soif et Autres Nouvelles by Ivo Andritch Ferdydurke by W. Gombrowicz The Barsoom Novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs The Things They Carried by T. O'Brien Le Testament Français by Andreï Makine A Good Man is Hard to find and Other Stories by F. O'Connor Us by E. Zamiatine Frankenstein by Mary Shelley Of course, it's easy to remember the works that have marked generations. However, we don't only feed on 'literature' - there are myriads of other books out there of a less lofty nature that we have read and thoroughly enjoyed, but whose titles or authors have faded from our memory. So, the big blank space in the middle of the list is for all those writers whose work has given me countless hours of excitement and pleasure - writers of genre fiction. One day, however, the unthinkable happens - you reach for a book and after a few pages, you let if fall back down. It's not what you wanted - the shoe doesn't fit - so you pick up another and it happens again... Then there's only one thing left to do - sit down at your computer and start writing...

Book preview

QUICKSANDS

When betrayal is flavor of the day…

May Koliander

Copyright © 2014 by May Koliander

Smashwords Edition

Cover design : DLR Designs

All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-2-9700882-5-7

Also by May Koliander

Love Code

Welcome to Freakdom

Freaky Pearl

Freak Away!

The Cave of Treasures

Genewise

Contact : [e-mail]

www.koliander.ch

For you out there who know that love has more facets than the brightest diamond.

"The light needs the dark to become articulate." Lawrence Whistler

Contents

1 Lacklustre

2 On the lookout

3 Over the hills and far away

4 Venetian blue

5 Olor

6 The Count

7 Black and Beyond

8 Cambridge 1989

9 Parlez-vous rapture ?

10 Flight

11 Alone in the woods

12 Pennsylvania early 1991

13 Shades of the past

14 Out of the frying pan…

15 Beyond the looking glass

16 The Crown Prince

17 Babes in the woods

18 Out of Limbo

19 Call of the wild

20 The Black Deeps

21 Sea of Sore hearts

22 The road to freedom

23 Don’t you love spiders ?

24 The night before

25 Through a glass, darkly

1  Lacklustre

Furry forearms suck. Was the hot, woolly paw thrown over her midriff beginning to twitch ? Nose wrinkled, eyes glued to the object pinning her to the bed, Céleste squirmed, holding back her breath as she inched away. Just a few more seconds and she would be free…

Her eyes flitted around the room. Her panties were stranded on the plush velvet sofa and the strap of her bra had lassoed the tall black marble clock on the mantel piece. She cautiously slipped a leg out of the bed, ripples of pleasure traveling over her skin at the thought of the shower water beating down on her once she safely reached the bathroom, but as her foot was about to touch the floor, the arm suddenly came to life, pulling her back and Kyle’s moist, warm lips, were nuzzling her once again.

Not trying to sneak away, are you ? His speech was slurred and muffled by her long red hair but his body against hers was all too tense. She watched his forearm travel down south over her flat belly, before twisting round to him, features set in a sweet expression, candid blue eyes wide open.

Thought jetlag had got the better of you, she smiled, attempting to sit up, and I really need a shower.

He pushed her back none too gently, scanning her body, eyes lingering on her small fiery bush.

Nothing gets the better of me when there’s pussy in my bed ! he crowed. Was he going to surge up and start beating his chest ?

He was ready again, of course. Not only could she feel it, smell it, it was apparent in the slackness of his mouth and the spittle glistening at the corners of his lips, but most of all in his tell-tale glazed pupils.

What about your meeting ? Isn’t it to take place this morning, shouldn't we be getting up ?

He was so close she was breathing in the wasted air he exhaled and fought hard to push back the scream rising in her throat.

There’s plenty of time. Come on, baby girl, open up for old Kyle ! and the next instant he had flopped onto her, bruising her thigh with one of his bony knees, eager to get down to business. Foreplay wasn’t his forte, but that was a boon in disguise. She was already plenty sore from overuse. The guy must have been some kind of oversexed monkey in a past life, like the Bonobos she'd seen on TV. Not that she had that much experience, but when she accepted her mission, she hadn’t expected to be spending so much time flat on her back, fucking. She spat out a strand of his longish hair that had landed over her mouth, and above his pale heaving shoulders, stretched out her arm to gaze at the blue diamond ring on her finger. It helped her travel back across the ocean to the small cemetery where her mom rested, eyes closed forever, below a riot of blooming cornflowers and daisies. The stone sparkled, as if winking at her. This is for you, Mother ; give me your strength.

After his initial onslaught, Kyle had slowed down somewhat and she knew only too well this was going to be a long drawn out affair. Hair flitted over her face again, tickling her nose and she blew it away impatiently. In the early morning light filtering through a crack in the thick drapes, her gaze lingered on the lively frieze twirling high up around the walls of the room. Kyle's back wasn’t as hairy as his forearms and her fingers idly attempted to draw on its damp churning surface the path she was wandering along as she lost herself in the flowery meanders of the frieze. The flowers' intricate beauty helped her blank out the grunts resounding above her as her companion toiled. The vibrant hue of a giant coral peony caught her attention, and frowning slightly, she let herself be absorbed into its frivolous corolla, a million miles away from the sleek fur rubbing against her cheeks and the ugly sucking noises made by the sweat pouring off Kyle and drenching her as he ground his body against hers.

The peony reminded her of the façade of the ancient castle turned into a classy hotel they were staying in. It too was orange. She had watched it draw near as they rode up the wooded hill on which it stood and gazed at its glowing walls as she reconnoitered the place shortly after their arrival the day before, carefully noting the drain pipe descending from the pointed roof of the tower in which their room was situated.

Meanwhile, Kyle was opening the throttle – thrusts gaining in vigor and groans intensifying to such an extent that it embarrassed her, bringing back how his eyes had lit up last night in the hotel beer keller, complete with sturdy wooden tables around a fake copper beer tank, when he spotted the waitresses in their low cut blouses. While he was busy making a fool of himself slobbering and ordering, she took in the patrons. They were mostly middle-aged couples or retirees with a few businessmen thrown in. A shadow on the smooth surface of the beer tank made her turn round. An elderly gentleman she hadn’t noticed had got up from a seat behind them and angled a quick look at Kyle as he retreated. She caught the outline of a bony head, thick white mutton chops and the glint of steel-rimmed glasses. It would have been useless to ask Kyle about the man – he was whole-heartedly ogling the boobs spilling out of the girls’ tightly laced corsets. She sighed. These women weren’t the first to catch his attention on this short trip to Germany – he had spent half the journey across the Atlantic leaning over her, chatting up her neighbor, a top-heavy bimbo wreathed in more tinsel than a Christmas tree.

Dr Steiff, of course, had warned her. Kyle was a dedicated researcher, but once out of his lab, the guy homed in on anything in a skirt. Apparently, lab work wasn’t conducive to social life or plentiful sex and getting him to come on to her had been a piece of cake. She felt the ring on her finger again. Mercifully, all she had to do was to keep him happy for a few days, until the meeting took place and then she would leave him behind forever.

The bed under her was now shaking hard, as if it had acquired a life of its own and concentrating on the flowers was giving her nausea. Kyle had clearly changed gears, heartily stepping up the tempo and the situation was now in the green – he was ripe and just about ready to pop. It was high time to get down to business in earnest – she just couldn't wait to get under that shower…

With the man's every frantic thrust and groan, she moaned, arching her back as she fondled her pink nipples and very soon it was game over and time out. Kyle shuddered from head to toe as he let out a wild cry before rolling off her and lying there, totally winded. Within seconds, he would plant a big wet kiss on her cheek, something like a clumsy dog’s enthusiastic lick. Just thinking of it, she cringed. Had the guy ever cared about anyone but himself ?

But dogs, of course, had the advantage over him. They didn't speak. Still panting, looking not a little pleased with himself, he remarked, You’re one juicy little firebrand, Céleste ! Could have fooled me with your innocent airs. Before I got up close, I thought you were some scrawny teenager, not even a student.

She smiled demurely, like she had last week when she maneuvered on campus so that he clumsily bumped into her, sending her pile of books flying. As he had drawn near, she was relieved to discover that he was rather good-looking, with regular features, a moustache and over-long wavy hair parted in the middle, although his looks were marred by the smug expression plastered over his face – the expression of a guy over-dosing on self-satisfaction. His teeth were good and his face lit up and became attractive when he smiled, but she didn’t like his eyes. They were a muddy hazel brown, slightly bulging, cold and abstracted. And she didn't go for the tall, gangly type but that was neither here not there as they would never really connect – no more than she had connected with the many guys who had been hitting on her since she was fifteen. In spite of what people thought, she wasn’t playing hard to get and had let herself be tempted a few times, mostly to calm Mom’s anxiety over her ending up an 'old maid', but there had always been something lacking in the relationship, and at twenty-two she was still single.

Right now, however, she meant to disappear into the bathroom and shower down the sweat she was doused in. The sheet beneath was damp and smelly and her skin beginning to itch. She would bite his hand off, furry wrist or not, if he ever so much as reached for her again.

Nothing beats the female body, Kyle went on, sliding an arm around her shoulders and holding her tight, fingers making fiery marks on her delicate milky skin, and I just can’t get enough of you ; must be because you’re my very first redhead. I vow you won’t be my last !

Couldn’t he have the decency to shut up, just once ? The guy was all blind spots !

Ouch ! she complained, as she turned away to disengage a lock of hair caught between his arm and the pillow and seized the opportunity to give her nose a slight blow. She was prone to nosebleeds and within seconds blood was gushing out nicely. His horrified expression, when he discovered her face smeared with gore, gave her a kick, although he was more concerned about the sheets than her welfare and grabbed a wad of tissues to try to soak the mess up.

Wouldn't do to spoil hotel property, she agreed, hoping out of bed, intent on keeping the sarcasm out of her voice, and shooting into the bathroom.

A washcloth and the icy water from the tap did the trick in a few minutes as she fought the urge to start cleaning the washbasin Kyle had left caked with shaving foam and bits of hair after a much needed moustache trim. The shower was heavenly and while rubbing herself down good she examined the flowers on the gold tiled walls ; they matched those painted around the walls of the room and she spotted the large peony immediately. Peonies were her mom's favorites. She remembered her tenderly burying the long claw-like roots in the dark soil alongside their small house, struggling, as she worked, to get a deep breath. Lovely things come to us, Céleste, she often said, and her brilliant smile would make Céleste forget the anxiety gnawing at her, but we need to be patient…

Mom was right. There had been only dark leaves and reddish stems for a couple of years but then the bushes offered up to the sky great pink and purple feathered balls, so beautiful that Céleste would sit next to them with a book on late spring afternoons, enthralled by they lavish opulence. Her mother was now dead but her cherished flowers would bloom this year too in her garden.

Ear to the door of the bathroom, she waited and sighed with relief when she heard the television blaring. Kyle had pulled on one of his precious fun t-shirts – this one read "Love Deez Nuts" with an arrow pointing downwards – and mouth agape, was watching the alpine ski competitions, stretched out on the damp bed, one bristly hand fondly toying with his flaccid private parts. Exposed like that, soft and pink against his wiry pubic hair, the contraption looked rather harmless, but she knew better.

He unglued his eyes from the screen, scanned her face and then patted the bed beside him, Come back in the nest and relax ! Sorry if my love making was a little rough…

Not at all, I enjoyed every second of it, she answered, willing to wipe the smirk off his face, I see you're making the most of your holiday, and she perched on the edge of the bed, securely wrapped in the luxurious bathrobe provided by the hotel, endeavoring to breathe through her mouth – the whole room reeked of sex.

He sighed. Tomorrow it will all be over and then it's back to the lab and good-bye deluxe hotel life. You know, I could get used to this, and she noticed his over-round face flush as his eyes greedily took in the antique mahogany desk, the dark lustrous parquet floor, the tufted sofa and the fireplace she was sure was Italian Renaissance. Tell the truth, I've never been in a place like this. Holidays with Mom and Dad – before Dad rode off into the sunset – were strictly family-friendly camping sites with a sleazy motel thrown in here and there, and nothing to do in the evening but raid the ice machine and suck the cubes to beat the heat.

He sounded wistful and she fleetingly wondered where his mother was now, not that it was any concern of hers.

I wouldn't know about traveling, she answered, Mom's health wasn't that good. But what about that meeting we are here for, is it taking place in the hotel ?

He glanced around the room again and she noted with satisfaction that he was pulling the crumpled sheet over himself, but watched him nevertheless carefully as he answered.

Hey Céleste, hasn't anybody told you that curiosity killed the cat… I won't miss the meeting. The guy'll give me a ring when he gets here.

Don't you want me to translate ? I thought that's why you brought me along ?

That's what I told my boss… I get by in German so let's say I just brought you along for the fun ! His smile was complacent but it didn't go much beyond his mouth and then he reached for his watch. He had tensed up, all of a sudden.

So you don't need me today ?

No, go about and have fun – there are plenty of shops in that little town down the hill ; the hotel shuttle will take you there. But I'll be needing you plenty tonight, don't fret ! He was now eyeing her again with a raunchy smile.

Shall I buy a souvenir for you to take back home ? A key ring or some cute little Alpine scene to brighten up your lab ? she asked, tongue in cheek, sure he wouldn't notice the sarcasm, but he suddenly lit up.

How about you get one of those things the waitresses here wear to push their tits up ?

You mean a dirndl corset ?

Yeah ! Could have us some fun with one of those ! And he reached over, trying to insert his hand in her bathrobe and slip it between her thighs.

She struggled hard to refrain from looking towards the chest of drawers behind which she had hidden her second passport and a wad of cash as she gently, but firmly pushed his hairy arm away. Once she got what she had come for, things were bound to get tough, but it would be a release to leave Kyle behind ! Of course, he would get into a load of trouble if she succeeded in her mission, but she wasn't going to worry about that.

2  On the lookout

Where's my kiss ? Mouth puckered, spiky moustache reminding her of a woolly caterpillar crawling over his lip, Kyle glanced up from his magazine while remaining sprawled in one of the creamy leather armchairs strewn along the blood-red damask walls in the main lobby. Little did he realize how ludicrous and puny he looked compared to the huge stag head, antlers proudly reaching upwards, jutting out from the wall above him. Breakfast was long gone and she had come down, ready to go, dressed in dark slacks and a magenta wind-cheater.

As she drew up, she noted how he kept checking his phone on the low table beside him. Much earlier, she'd had a chat with the chief concierge at reception, a jowly, clean-shaven Herr Jolis, dressed in military-style garb complete with shiny lapel pins, while admiring the huge oil painting on the wall behind him – did the idyllic island afloat on a limpid cobalt lake ringed by jagged snow-caped peaks really exist or was it but a figment of some romantic artist's imagination ? When she'd stopped gazing at the picture, she had learned that only two very old couples had checked in since their arrival last night, so whoever Kyle was expecting wasn't here. As she walked towards the grand doors leading to the castle's inner courtyard and beyond to the shuttle, she shot a look back. Kyle was now busily poring over what looked like a map. Where had he stored it ? She had been through his luggage while he was belting away under the shower and found a contraption she surmised was a Taser, but no documents or maps… She hadn't thought to check the pockets of his big baggy coat, though.

The shuttle driver readily agreed to drop her a few hundred yards down the road when she jumped up, exclaiming she had forgotten to take her medicine. As soon as the vehicle disappeared round the bend, she turned her windcheater inside out so that now she was wearing dark green and climbed a small rock outcropping that offered a good view of the castle. From her vantage point, she could monitor both the main entrance and a side one that led directly into the dense surrounding forest. The only other path out of the hotel grounds went through a stylised yew maze and ended right beneath her, giving out onto the road. The thick cushion of dry moss she was sitting on brought back to her long forays into the woods with her mother. The shady forest was their playground and countless afternoons had been spent picking wildflowers or hunting for mushrooms, trying to spot bright orange Chicken of the Woods on dead trees or foraging for racy Chanterelles and plump Puffballs. She kissed the glittering blue stone of her ring before lifting her face to enjoy the pale morning sun for a few seconds, but soon held up her hand to shield herself and cursed. Once again, she had forgotten her cap. People thought the tiny spots powdering her nose and cheeks were freckles but they were the signs of a rare skin condition she had learnt to live with. Tiny spots peppered her lower back too and Kyle had been keenly interested when he discovered them, wanting to know for what kinky reason she exposed the