My Sexy German is named Gunter. Ha! No. I do not have a sexy German. What I do have, though, is a box full of copies of GEISTERFLUT, and this book is awesome. Seriously, check out how fucking cool this is:
Okay. Now for the fun part(s). As I’m sure every other writer in the world does, the first thing I do when I get the foreign-language editions of my books is run to Google Translate and hunt up a sex scene to run through it. Whee! Yes. I am totally mature.
Now. Let me make something clear, here. I don’t speak German. I know they have different rules of grammar. I am absolutely certain that the translator who handled my books did an excellent job. I’m thrilled with the book. This is just for fun, okay? Not to make fun of anyone/any language/any nation/whatever. It’s actually to poke a little fun at Google Translate, really, but even that is pretty good as a tool.
So. Here is the line as it appeared in UNHOLY GHOSTS:
Breathing didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, because he was speeding up, slamming into her with a single-minded force she understood and shared. His left hand shifted; he slipped his thumb down to caress her most sensitive spot…
Here it is–well, as well as my US keyboard can render it–in GEISTERFLUT:
Luft zu kriegen spielte keine Rolle mehr, ja, alles andere war jetzt egal, denn er beschleunigte seine Stobe, rammte sie mit einer Entschlossenheit und Kraft, die sie sehr zu schatzen wusste, und liebkoste dabei mit dem Daumen ihre allerempfindlichste Stelle.
And here…well, here is what Google Translate tells me the passage means (because of my US keyboard it’s missed a couple of words, sigh):
Air get to play no role, yes, everything else was now care because he quickened his Stobe, ram them with a determination and strength that they knew how to appreciate very much, and caressed it with her ??thumb allerempfindlichste place.
And the next bit. From UG:
…and she rocked toward him, matching his rhythm, driving herself and letting herself be driven to another mind-shattering climax.
Ihr Körper nahm seinen Rhythmus auf und lieb sich zu einem weiteren bombastischen Orgasmus treiben.
Google Translate says:
Her body began its rhythm and love drive to another bombastic climax.
Shall we try some fun at Trickster’s?
His arm bulged beneath her palm as she slid it down, finally wedging it into the miniscule space between them so she could feel the ridge of his erection hot through his jeans.
Seine Arme wölbten sich prall, als sie mit der Handfläche daran hinabfuhr. Dann schob sie die Hand zwischen sie beide, sodass sie seine Erektion durch seine Jeans hindurch spuren konnte.
His arms bulged bulging as if with the palm down it went. Then she put her hand between both of them, so they were able to trace his erection through his jeans round.
Nothing came out because her back was slammed against the wall and her arms were wrapped around his neck and his lips were on hers, ruthless and tender and demanding all at once, and now she really was flying, up toward the ceiling, out of the building.
Es kam nichts, weil sie mit dem Rucken gegen die Wand knallte und die Arme um seinen Hals schlang und er die Lippen auf ihre presste, leidenschaftlich und zartlich und fordernd. Und jetzt schwebte sie tatsachlich, zur Decke hinauf und zum Gebaude hinaus.
There was nothing because she banged his back against the wall and threw her arms around his neck and he pressed his lips to her, and tenderly passionate and demanding. And now they floated in fact, up to the ceiling and the building addition.
Oh, and Lex calls Chess “Tulpi,” which I think is quite cute.
So. I’m around the halfway point in the 5th Downside book and things are going pretty crazy (in the story, I mean; there’s all kinds of madness going on, whee!). I’m toying with the idea of doing metrics again; I haven’t done them since I wrote UG, actually, but they were kind of fun and did motivate me. So maybe I should. I’ll decide on that in the next few days.
Meanwhile, here’s a very little short snippet-y bit from Downside Five:
The stitches gave way under the knife with one quick stroke; the lips of the wound gaped open. Evil flew out of it and into the air like a mushroom cloud, stinking of decay and something else, something she couldn’t quite identify.
Chess and Bump both leaned over to look inside. It was bigger than she’d expected, sort of empty, and then—oh, gross.
“Ain’t seen me no innards in a some fuckin years, dig, but ain’t recall no fuckin black shit in there,” Bump said.
“What? Where’s that?”
Ugh. Time for the gloves.