I hadn’t intended to post another piece here as Rose &
Jack and AW took such a long time to write but seeing as Rocket Dave and LG
have contributed greatly in keeping the blog going I thought I’d make a contribution of sorts. This may not be to
everyone’s taste, as we all know even within the narrow genre of CD/TV fiction
people have so many different “hot buttons” as Bea refers to them, but if there’s
sufficient interest then I’ll post some more if I can drag (no pun intended) myself
away from the World Cup in Brazil.
As usual it would be interesting to read people’s views on
it good or bad.
A Suitable
Position.©
By CarrieP
It had been an
interesting if trying few weeks for Robert Kilcoyne, ever since sitting his first
year college exams he’d spent most of the time travelling through Europe
delighted to be away from the stifling atmosphere of the aunts that had raised him since the death of both parents
several years previously. “Aunts” was quite a loose term as they were not
related by blood rather they were his mother’s closest and dearest friends and
as she considered them sisters from a very young age he always referred to them
as Aunt Sophie and Aunt Amelia. They were kind but very protective not to
mention quite strict and he found their constant attention very oppressive.
After boarding school he had to fight long and hard to attend a university away
from his home town and he relished the freedom it brought and was in no hurry
to return to a cossetted home life with only his aunts and the domestic staff
for company so he was very careful to plan this trip secretly and in fact only
told them at the last minute. Naturally when he eventually did tell them it was
not received well but that didn’t bother him too much as he was too excited and
focused at the prospect of a summer free from women telling him what to do,
what to wear, when to be home, always orders, orders, orders, it was so
stifling.
He was enjoying his new found freedom but never spent too
long in any one place as he’d wanted to experience as much as life had to offer
after so many years of excessive supervision by his aunts. It was while
travelling through the small principality of Katirinabourg in central Europe
close to the border with southern Germany he found himself a little short of
funds. He knew full well if he contacted his aunts for money from his
considerable trust fund they would be hesitant to forward any amount beyond the
fare home and was certain they would insist he return home immediately. He
quickly realised he would have to find some a job of some sort to finance the
rest of his vacation. Having a coffee in the small picturesque capital he
noticed an advertisement in the local newspaper in bold lettering, “A Suitable Position” and below it in
smaller print “for the right candidate.”
Apparently it was for a handyman of sorts and he was
surprised that the ad was in English but figured that as the tourist season was
still some way off he may have a good chance. It was too good a chance to pass
up and immediately rang the number deciding it may be best to communicate in
German one of the main languages spoken in the principality.
“Guten Tag Ich bin den job uber telefonieren” he said to the
voice at the other end.
“The position is for an English speaker” the voice responded
quite dismissively.
He quickly reverted to English and explained he thought it
more polite to open the conversation in German, the female voice softened and
after asking some cursory questions arranged an appointment for the following
afternoon with the explicit instruction that all communication must be carried
out through English, apparently the lady of the house wanted her staff to
improve their English and he thought to himself who was he to argue?
At the appointed time Robert strolled up the driveway of a
large Victorian house sitting in expansive grounds in an exclusive
neighbourhood. The front door was opened by a blond girl in a grey maid’s
uniform which didn’t really surprise him considering the size and location of
the house.
“Hiya, my name is Robert Kilcoyne I have an interview for
the handyman’s job with a Frau Kirchen.” he said in the cocky and slightly
condescending voice he always used to people in service jobs.
“This way, Madam is
in the drawing room.” the maid replied in slightly accented but flawless
English.
She was an attractive girl, late twenties early thirties he
guessed about five six maybe seven and while she wasn’t heavy she certainly
wasn’t skinny either and had a more than ample bosom which he could see from
the line under her uniform was held in place by a sturdy bra. He always liked big
breasted girls and although he wasn’t at all confident with them he thought
that a mere housemaid would no doubt fall for his charms. He followed the maid
across a large hallway noticing her wonderfully rounded buttocks move in the
tight fitting skirt of her uniform dress, as she walked ahead of him her hips
swayed with each step in the glorious way that women are designed to do.
Yes, he thought, I really would
like some of that.
“I didn’t realise people still worked as uniformed servants
these days” he said as he walked alongside her. Of course he knew women of Frau
Kirchen’s rank employed uniformed maids after all his aunts retained a number
at their town house in London as well as their country estate. He was no
stranger to servants and his remark was more to assert his status over this
servant girl from the very start. Despite his lack of funds he quite enjoyed
the ridiculous and ironic idea of a wealthy young man such as him becoming a
handyman for a few weeks.
“Well perhaps you don’t realise either that sometimes people don’t have a choice what job
they have to take” the maid replied acerbically, shooting him a sharp look for
good measure.
Skivvy – he thought to himself but said nothing and followed
in in silence.
She knocked on the drawing room door and entered.
“The person you were expecting Frau Kirchen” the maid said
addressing what he thought a middle aged but very glamorous woman sitting on an
antique couch. At first glance it was hard to put an age on her but there was
no doubt he was very attractive despite her advanced years.
Maybe late thirties,early
forties, he thought but couldn’t be sure.
“Madam!” Frau Kirchen said pointedly “Greta, I have told you
numerous times, you must address me as Madam.”
“Yes Madam” the maid replied obviously embarrassed at being
upbraided in front him, Robert thought.
“Are you not forgetting something else?” Frau Kirchen said.
A slight look of resentment came over the maid’s face as she
grudgingly bobbed a quick curtsy, Robert caught her eye and gave her a contemptuous
look as she rose.
“Very well you may go.” Frau Kirchen dismissed her.
“So difficult to get proper servants these days” Frau
Kirchen said almost absentmindedly before turning to Robert “I require someone
to do odd jobs, some basic maintenance and other duties as may be required in
and around the house for several weeks or so and as the hours may be erratic
the position is live in. I have some important and influential people visiting
for time to time and it is vital that they receive the correct impression of a
properly run household so you should know that I require total obedience and
respect from my servants. Slovenliness, insubordination or impertinence will
not be tolerated.”
Robert was taken aback at her tone and put it down to famed
Germanic directness, no beating about the bush like the British or Irish.
Rozamund Kirchen took a moment to look at the young man in front of her, he was
the youngest of the men she had interviewed. She could tell that he was well
educated unlike the other applicants several of whom were far too uncouth, he
was of average height and though of slight build she concluded manual work
should not be a problem. He was presentable enough although he seemed to hunch
his shoulders somewhat, his shoulder length dark brown hair was reasonably well
kempt and clean, and unlike the others he had no visible tattoos which she felt
was totally unacceptable in a servant. She interviewed him for another few
minutes to ascertain his suitability for the position and decided if he passed
muster he may be of use. After satisfying herself she wrote a figure on a piece of paper and
handed it to him and smiled to herself as she watched his eyes widen, his youth
and inexperience could not hide his surprise as he took in the number.
She was right of course, the salary was more than generous, far
more than he had imagined or expected, however coming from such a privileged
background he baulked at the idea of being referred to as a servant – handyman
had less servile connotations – however the money would more than compensate
and living in he could save most of it knew immediately what he would use it for.
“If the salary is acceptable and you are willing to agree to
my conditions the position is yours and once you sign this contract you can
start immediately.” she said.
“The salary is more
than acceptable Frau Kirchen.” he gushed and hurriedly signed the document she
extended to him.
“Very well when we are finished Greta will show you to your
room in the servants’ quarters and will make arrangements for your luggage to
be delivered here.” she said.
The elation he felt at the substantial salary was now
replaced by a feeling of humiliation at the sudden realisation that he was now
being referred to as a servant and as if
he needed confirmation his new employer added,
“Now that you are in my employ you will of course address me
as Madam”
“Yes Madam” he said glad the maid wasn’t present to witness
his embarrassment, his new employer continued.
“I have never employed a male servant before so I suppose a
curtsy may not be appropriate, a bow of the head is I believe the usual display
of respect from a male servant to his mistress, you will do so when entering
and leaving a room and also when I speak to you. Is this clear?”
He looked at her almost disbelieving what he had just heard
but remembering that she had reminded the maid to curtsy, he felt archaic as
they were such gestures appeared to be a requirement of employees in this
household. She held his glance and arched her eyebrows in that way women of a
certain age or position do when they dare you to defy them.
“Do you have a problem with that? It is a requirement and a non-negotiable clause in your contract
but if you feel it is beneath you and you wish to leave ,please do so now.” she
finally said with more than a hint of impatience in her voice.
This shocked him into action, the thought of losing such a
high salary and what he could do with it overrode the deepening unease he now
felt at the idea of being referred to as a
“male servant” but this was no time to argue the point.
“No Madam” he said as he bowed his head and felt a twinge of
shame, he now understood the maid’s
reluctance to curtsy- it was a humiliating experience- but,
he thought, bad enough as having to bow was, a curtsy was somehow even more
mortifying. He was glad he wasn’t a girl having to perform such a demeaning
act.
“Much better, you must understand your salary is generous
for a reason. I expect you to follow my orders to the letter- no hesitation
whatsoever. Is that clear?”
He was acutely aware of her annoyance and didn’t want to
stretch her patience any further.
“Yes Madam” he quickly said and added a bow for good
measure.
She got up from behind the desk and walked towards him. The
room was so quiet that he could hear a swishy sound as her panty hosed thighs
rubbed together as she approached him, she was elegantly dressed in a navy blue
knee length silk dress, her auburn hair was brushed into a chignon, a pearl
choker with matching earrings gave her a regal look. She seemed to take a great
interest in his clothes.
“Have you any suitable clothes a decent jacket, good
trousers?” she asked as she fingered his well -worn leather jacket and looked
at his jeans with obvious distaste.”
“Well not really I’m travelling light and all my clothes are
very casual more for vacation than anything else. I wasn’t expecting to stay
this long away.” he explained.
“Madam!” she said quietly as she looked directly into his
eyes.
“Sorry.. Madam” he apologised.
“Please don’t forget, it’s very annoying having to remind
servants to use the correct form of address to their mistress.” she said.
“Yes Madam, sorry Madam” he replied disgusted at himself for
his servile attitude.
“You can wear those for outdoor work” she said gesturing to
the clothes he was wearing “I suppose I can find you something for your house
duties. One more thing, as I mentioned some very important and powerful people
stay with me occasionally and naturally I wish to ensure their security and
privacy so I must be sure that my servants are fully vetted. I will need your passport to make the
necessary enquiries. Naturally you will receive it back after I have conducted
these investigations. For security reasons this is also non-negotiable.”
He didn’t like the idea of handing over his passport but
with the papers full of celebrity gossip he could understand it and who knows -maybe
he might even meet someone famous. He knew he had nothing to hide so he handed
her the passport which she placed in a desk drawer.
She picked up the bell on her desk and rang it twice,
moments later Greta appeared.
“You rang Madam” she said and this time didn’t forget to
curtsy.
“Greta, Robert here will be my new houseboy, please show him
to his room in the servants’ quarters and make sure he familiarises himself
with the rest of the house and its rules.”
“Yes Madam” and turning to Robert said “this way”
The word “houseboy” hit him like the slap of a wet cloth and
he wanted to protest that he was applying for the position of handyman and not
some lowly domestic servant like the maid standing next to him but before he
could gather himself Frau Kirchen dismissed them both with a perfunctory
“You may go.”
Alone in the large hallway Greta turned to him with a smirk
on her pretty face.
“Not so smug now, are we? Welcome to your new life as a
domestic servant.” she sneered as she left him standing, mouth open at the door
and made her way across the hallway.
“I’m not a domestic servant” he snapped hurrying after her
as she went through a door behind the large staircase.
“Of course you are” she said as he caught up with her “I’m
not exactly thrilled by the idea either but it’s what we are. I’m the housemaid
and you’re the houseboy – just accept it.”
There was no way he was accepting this but felt any further
protest would be just a waste of energy, as he followed her up the back stairs
she continued,
“This is the back stairs that the servant’s use” she said
ignoring his protestations “we only use the main stairs when either cleaning or
bringing something to Madam or her guests. You must always use this stairs to
access the servants’ quarters. Oh and another thing always address her as Madam
and don’t forget to bow otherwise you get demerits leading to fines and
punishments.”
“WHAT!” he said incredulously as he quickened his step to
keep up with her “demerits, fines
punishments?”
“It’s all in the contract, don’t tell me you didn’t read it
before you signed.” she said.
“No” he replied suddenly feeling extremely foolish “I only
saw the salary.”
“Of course you did” Greta said condescendingly “well you
have little choice now I’m assuming she has your passport.”
“Yes” he said the implications of it handing over now
dawning on him.
Robert was still trying to take this in when they arrived at
the door of an annex at the back of the building. He followed her through to a
large bright and airy living room very comfortably and tastefully furnished. As
she showed around him the well -appointed and modern kitchen just off the
living room she continued.
“Well it’s not as bad as all that and at least you’re
getting extremely well paid but she is strict so you’re going to have to abide
by the contract otherwise you could find yourself in trouble with the
authorities. As she’s probably told you she has friends in very high places and
not averse to using them…. as I know to my cost.”
“What do you mean?” Robert asked.
“Do you think I chose to be her maid? Having to wear this
humiliating uniform? To be subject to her
outdated rules and regulations? I was originally employed as her
physiotherapist and after several months I wanted to leave but because there
were still several months left on my contract she refused to release me. Well
to make a very long story short she threatened to have her high powered legal
team take me for everything and ruin my reputation plus she had my passport. There
was a strong possibility I could have been arrested for breach of contract, the
law here is a weighted in favour of the rich and powerful. As a punishment for
attempting to break the contract I have to work the remainder of my time her as
her uniformed maidservant.”
“So you reckon if I want to leave she will take an action
against me?” he gasped realising the full seriousness of his situation.
“Believe me you really do not want to cross her” Greta said
“and
she has your passport. However she is honest and will pay you exactly what she
agreed provided you honour your contract.”
“But she advertised the position as a handyman not a
houseboy” he said.
“If she referred to you as a houseboy then that’s what’s on
the contract and if you didn’t read it heaven knows what else is in there.
There probably will be some stuff as a
handyman but a lot of your work will be around the house. Another reason she
pays so well is flexibility and like everything else it’s in the contract. Like
I said- welcome to life as a domestic servant - better get used to it. Now
let’s get you to your room and give me the details of where your luggage can be
picked up as we’re not allowed leave without permission, the front gate is
locked and as you noticed there is razor wire at the top. Oh! By the way if you
challenge or displease her in any way you’ll
receive demerits, break anything and you will be fined the value of the item so
be careful.”
She could see by the look of shock on Robert’s face that her
account of life in Frau Kirchen’s household had clearly taken him aback and
knew it wouldn’t take long before the full realisation of what he had let
himself in for would soon reach his idiotic male brain. She thought it wise to
give him some counsel before he did something really stupid.
“Look it’s not all that bad
you’re getting great money tax free, no overheads and once you’ve
completed your contract you’ll get a large bonus and I mean a large bonus. As you can see this is a very
luxurious place to live, and you can even have use of the pool when Madam is
not using it. Now come on we need to get you settled. The reason for all the
rules and regulations is exactly as she’s told you, she has some very powerful
and wealthy friends and she doesn’t want to be embarrassed by her servants so
she pays outrageous money for absolute obedience.”
He thought about it as he followed her and concluded maybe
she was right after all there were a lot of pluses to the position and the
money was great and now there’s talk of a large bonus. His thoughts were
interrupted when she stopped at a door.
“This is your room” she said opening the door “I think
you’ll find it quite comfortable.”
“But it says ‘Under-housemaid -Bedroom’” he croaked gazing
at the painted sign on the door.
“So?” she asked failing to see the problem.
“Don’t you have another room I could use” he muttered
horrified at the thought of staying in a girl’s….a maid’s room.
“No, up to now this has always been an all- female household
so the rooms are allocated to female servants by their order in the household.
As there are no houseboy rooms you’ll use the under-housemaid’s bedroom I’m
down the hall in the head-housemaid’s room so technically I suppose I’m your
immediate superior” she explained and noticing his mounting discomfort added
with a sly smile “if you have a problem with that why not take it up with
Madam?”
He hated the idea of every time he entered the room he would
be reminded he’d be sleeping in a maid’s room the very notion was so degrading
but he knew he would get nowhere arguing and shook his head in response. As he
stepped inside the room his worst fears were confirmed- it was undoubtedly a
girl’s bedroom. He was surprised at the size of the room which was much larger
than he had expected. A queen size antique bed with mahogany head and footboard
was covered by a baby blue satin quilt and large matching frilled pillows, a
table and two comfortable chairs sat by the large window which looked out onto
the extensive rear garden while a triptych dressing table and padded seat fitted
neatly into the corner he couldn’t help noticing it was laden with bottles and
jars of various sizes and colours. The ruffled faux silk curtains were tied
back in a sweep emphasising the ultra-
feminine nature of the room and he suddenly felt the same sense of oppressive
femininity that he had been hoping to escape from back home. While away at
college his aunts had redecorated his room in a not too dissimilar fashion
which for him was the last straw in a seemingly constant battle to constrain his
growing masculinity and had finally persuaded him that a summer away from their
influence would be the best course of action. The irony of his new surroundings
wasn’t lost on him.
Was there no escaping
this creeping feminisation it seemed
to be following him everywhere? he
silently cursed to himself and he only half listened to Greta as she pointed
out the various features in the room and insisted he accompany her to view the
equally spacious en suite bathroom which he noticed was fully stocked with
feminine lotions and creams.
“When your luggage arrives you can hang your clothes in
here” she said pointing to the sizable closet.
“I won’t need that much space, I haven’t that many clothes.”
he replied as she opened the door to allow him to inspect the interior.
“Probably just as well” she remarked as she viewed inside
and tried to figure out how much space her new charge would require.
Robert had to stifle a groan as he was confronted with an
array of dresses which from the style of Greta’s dress he took to be maids’
uniforms in black and grey, hanging from the rails alongside them on separate
hangers were aprons of different styles. Stacked on the shelves were a number
of matching white caps of various styles and on the shelves below that several
pairs of shoes which he noticed matched the colour of the uniform dresses. She
seemed unaware of his discomfort at the sight of the feminine garments that
confronted him.
“I’ll see if I can make some extra space by combining the
dresses and aprons, here hold these” she casually remarked as she removed a
dress from the closet and handed it to him she then took an apron from its
hanger.
“Now hold the dress up, no.. a little closer to your body I
want to put this pinafore apron over it properly so it won’t be crumpled.” she
instructed and became a little irritated when he hesitated. “Oh come on for
heaven’s sake I haven’t all day”
The tone of her voice made unsettled him and he did as he
was told although feeling decidedly uncomfortable as he did so.
“It won’t bite you it’s only a uniform, hold it closer to
your body.” she snapped as he held it almost at arm’s length.
Reluctantly he complied as she drew the frilled apron over
the sleeves of the dress and finally noticing his discomfort remarked somewhat
mischievously
“Just your size”
He felt his face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and
anger but felt she would tease him further if he said anything.
She repeated the process but this time seemed to notice
something wrong with the stitching at the hem.
“Oh it’s badly torn, what was that stupid
girl doing to cause this” she remarked and he took it that she was referring to
the previous owner of the dress, the under-housemaid. She continued,
“I just hope there’s
a dress dummy in the attic that I can hang it on as you can see I’ll need to
pin it all round to repair it properly.”
Does she really think
I give a shit about some stupid dress? he said to himself I just want her to stop yapping and leave me
alone.
When she was satisfied at the extent of the repair work that
was needed she finally allowed him to put down the dress while she removed more
from the large closet and laid them on the bed.
“I’ve got something in the oven for our evening meal that I
need to attend to and I need to phone for your belongings so you can make
yourself useful by matching the aprons with the dresses like I’ve shown you. I
expect Madam will be down later to see if you’re settling in properly so I want
to make sure everything is in order.”
She gave him no time to answer as she turned on her heel and
left him holding a maid’s dress and frilled apron. He was annoyed at the way
she’d ordered him to do something so utterly demeaning as hanging a housemaid’s
uniforms but her hasty departure denied him the opportunity to protest and he
reluctantly did as he was told. Irritated as he was by her attitude he felt
relieved he was alone as he could feel
the embarrassment rise in his cheeks when he picked up the first dress and
apron he did want anyone one witnessing his extreme discomfort as he went about
his task. He was on his last uniform when she returned.
“Not bad” she chirped as she inspected his work “you may
make a decent houseboy after all now come along let’s eat.”
He bristled once more at the term houseboy but as they’d
already had that conversation he decided there was no merit in contradicting
her again and apart from the episode with the uniforms she seemed pleasant
enough. He followed her into the kitchen where he was met by the most delicious
smell, sitting on the table was the source –a heavy earthenware dish with a
golden crust, he hadn’t had a home cooked meal since he left England and he
felt his mouth water at the prospect. She motioned him to sit and cut into the
pie and handed him the plate. The magnificent aroma made him aware that he had
not eaten that day and he wolfed the first few mouthfuls before he remembered
his manners and gathered himself to thank her. His obvious gratitude pleased
her and he thought perhaps he had been too hasty in judging her after all she
was probably in a worse position than him. They had a pleasant conversation and
seemed they had shared interests in music, books and art amongst other things
maybe having to spend a few weeks here may not be all that bad, he’d stayed in
worse places as his money ran low. The sound of the doorbell interrupted their
chat and while Greta left the table to answer it he sat back with a second
glass of a very fine Burgundy and considered his situation.
Frau Kirchen seemed to have some very strange ideas
concerning her employees but from what he’d gleaned from Greta while she may be
extremely demanding of those in her employ (he was loathe to even contemplate
the word servant) it seemed she was extremely honest in honouring to the letter
her side of the contract and expected the same from her hirelings. He reasoned
that although the employment arrangements may be somewhat unorthodox the salary
was extraordinary and he couldn’t deny the accommodation was very comfortable
even if it was the under-housemaid’s room. During the meal Greta had also
informed him of his duties and given him a list of chores in the garden which
he was to tackle the following morning she’d also mentioned he would also be
expected to help around the house. Perhaps it was the wine or maybe he was just
coming to terms with his new
surroundings but he was beginning to feel more relaxed about his situation when
Greta returned carrying a rucksack.
“Your belongings have arrived” she snorted handing it to him
“you certainly weren’t exaggerating when you said you hadn’t much by way of
luggage. It makes no difference you can use the clothes you’re wearing for
outside and if needs be I’m sure we can find something for you for inside
work.”
Usually this would have caused an outburst from him but he
thought it would be churlish to remonstrate with her after she had provided
such a magnificent meal and the wine seemed to have contributed to his mellow
mood so he took this news in his stride.
“Yeah we’ll work something out” he said causally.
“Now let’s get these cleared away it’s almost 9pm and time
for Madam’s nightly inspection before you retire for the night.” Greta informed
him.
He thought this a bit much as it was not yet 9pm and felt
another glass or two of wine with Greta might lead to something.
“You’ve got to be joking? I rarely go to bed before
mid-night and I doubt that I’ve been to bed at this time since I was a child.”
he lied knowing full well his aunts insisted on a similar bedtime when he
stayed at home.
“I wish I was but Madam has strict rules about bedtime for
new servants. Her belief is that if servants are to perform to the highest
standards then they must have adequate sleep which I suppose is hard to argue
with. I know of several establishments where the mistresses treat their
servants almost as slaves so it could be an awful lot worse and as I’ve already
pointed out we don’t really have a choice. The contract and all that.”
Robert knew she was right of course as there had been
several articles in the papers recently about house servants being treated
abysmally by their employers however he couldn’t allow this to pass
unchallenged.
“That’s’ ridiculous” he sniffed “I never heard anything so..
so…..”
“So what?” a voice from behind him interrupted him
mid-sentence.
©
7 comments:
I like this story! Thank you Carrie!
curtsey
Sissy maid colette
Carrie, I'm delighted to see you writing once again after what I am sure was a welcome break. This has the makings of an excellent new story - I'm looking forward to the next episode!
L.G.
This will be a lovely story, I do like to read how other maids are handled by their mistress. This is a popular scenario and just like I have ocassionally experienced. I cant wait to see what happens next to Robert.
Maid Marcia x
Good work Carrie, the story has all the ingedients to become very interesting for us male maids who work as domestic servants in the real word. Keep producing episodes!
Monica G
Hello CarrieP,
I live in Germany and would like this way very much for the wonderful stories that I could read every time with a lot of tension, thank you. The last two stories, "Rose and Jack" and "Amongst Women" were very imaginative, interesting and written in an attractive language from you.
You have understood it admirably, exciting display the "suffering of the protagonist Jack / Elizabeth" on 'Maids and Mistresses "in this context.
Also the continuation of the story by LG I want to commend. He also did his best to keep the suspense upright. Gee, such a story requires a lot of time in their drafting.
Somehow your readers have been spoiled by the regular continuations of the story, now that a sadness has arisen because after several weeks nothing will come as a continuation.
But, now you have CarrieP, again took the initiative with a new series: "A Suitable position" in which is so infinitely to recognize you a lot of potential that the plot can not think to end.
It will surely be very exciting and I'm looking forward to it.
Thrilling Stories of this kind I've actually read only at Bea. Of the approx. 40 books in Amazon Kindle I purchased 34 books as a download for purchase. He takes a reasonable price and offers a lot.
Today I bought the 35th Book (Making a Man a Maid).
Here I found a reference to the cover designer CarrieP with his email address.
I wish you all the best and may her story all prepare us much joy. Thank you, thank you, thank ..............................
Please excuse my lousy English. I am largely dependent on the translator.
Many greetings
Hello CarrieP,
Apologies for not responding sooner, I’m gorging on the World Cup which has been excellent so far (apart from the 90 minutes of my life I’ve wasted watching Iran v Nigeria, mind you Brazil v Mexico wasn’t much better) Today it’s racing from Royal Ascot, Wimbledon starting next week then the Tour de France.
Thanks to Collette, Marcia, LG, Monica, and our new German friend for your kind words, I really appreciate it. It really is hard to know whether people will like this story or not, I wasn’t sure when I posted it and judging by the number of readers who have ticked the “more” box, I remain doubtful and as both LG and I have said over the AW and The Heroine series it’s hard to know if this stuff is any good if there’s little or no feedback. I know it may be a bit slow to get up and running but I think there is potential.
Great to hear from you Monica, we are all so envious- you’re a legend I’m sure Bea will be happy you’re still looking in.
If Jim reads this Bea says hi and send his regards.
Carrie
Hi, Carrie. It's really good to see you writing again. It took me a few days to get around to reading this and a couple more to comment. I don't have the World Cup to blame; I'm just lazy, and coming up with the right words can be taxing.
Frankly, I think there must be more of an interest in this story than you can discern just from the number of comments or people clicking the "more" or "interesting" buttons. I know I've been vocal about the scarcity of feedback on this blog, as was Bea, back when Bea was still posting stuff. But, as much as it pains me to admit, this blog probably gets more feedback than a lot of other blogs out there.
It's not uncommon for blog posts to get zero comments. Sometimes I wonder how some of the bloggers I follow have the motivation to keep blogging, given that it's often difficult to tell if anybody out there is even paying attention. To those people, the handful of positive comments and clicks on the "more" button you've gotten would probably almost seems like an avalanche of praise.
I don't know why anybody who is a follower of this blog wouldn't be into this story. It certainly hits the right buttons for me. In my opinion, this seems to easily match the quality of Bea's material. I've occasionally thought about trying my hand at writing, but then reading something like this makes that notion seem foolish, since I doubt I could come up with anything as good.
Lest you think I feel frustrated about that, though, don't. On the contrary, I'd been in a rut for at least a month, but shortly after I read this, I felt inspired to start drawing again. I also started seriously thinking about stories of my own I'd like to develop (in comic form, that is- 'cause like I said, I question my abilities as a writer) and the ideas seemed to be flowing a lot more readily than they had in quite some time. All I can think is that reading this must have sparked something in the creative area of my brain, so I guess I have to thank you for that.
I, for one, hope that you will continue this- it would be a shame not to. Of course I have a rough idea where things are headed, but that doesn't mean I don't want to read more anyway. For one thing, I'm curious how Robert's somewhat detailed backstory might come into play down the road.
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