Wish me luck! I may be on the road to fame.

I was strolling around the internet the other day and stumbled across a site dealing with short stories. They had a contest going and the winners would receive a chance to be published in a national magazine.

There were quite a few categories -- romance, crime, horror, non-fiction, etc.

I figured, why not give it a shot? I chose to write a horror story. I have received several positive reviews and I'm crossing my fingers right now, hoping that I might just pull this one off.

If my book is published, rest assured, my friends at A2K will not be forgotten. I'm planning on including all of you, by name, in the forward.

We can share the fame together.


Without further adieu, I give you....


The Death of a Duck

by Gustav Ratzenhofer


I heard the commotion as I was walking by the park. The park was normally silent in the early morning hours. Usually a few vagrants still sleeping on the benches, some old timers feeding the pigeons, and neighborhood teenagers winding down from their nocturnal activities.

"Oh my God! The duck!" shouted one of the teenagers.

I looked up. Everyone in the park was racing for the shore of the small lake which sat in the center of the park. The vagrants and teenagers were leading the pack with the old timers huffing and puffing behind them.

Curious, I jumped the fence and started after the group. Something serious was happening and I had to find out what, even though I would be late for work.

Catching up to the group I noticed they were clustered in a circle and staring down at something. They spoke in hushed tones and one of the old timers was crying. As his sobs grew louder he stepped back from the circle and what I saw made my heart stop.

A duck lay on the sand, a knife protruding from his chest.

I became dizzy, my breath came in labored gasps. Dropping to my knees I raised my fists in the air and shouted at the top of my lungs, "Who would kill this duck? Why? Why? Why?"

I was thinking clearly now. I was angry but alert.

I quickly scanned the park and saw a cloaked figure standing on the other side of the lake. He returned my gaze, turned around, and jumped into a waiting car. The car sped away, melting into the morning traffic.

The distance was too great for me to read the license plate and the car such a generic model that I decided not to open an investigation.

I turned around and slowly walked back to the crowd. Together, we buried the duck.

My name is Vilhelm Flugheim. I'm a private detective.

From this day forth, I shall become the protector of the ducks.

Rest easy my feathered friends.

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And now, some of the reviews....


Step aside, Hemingway; move over, Steinbeck; toss down your pen, Dickens. There's a new voice in town. And his name is Ratzenhofer.

Cleveland Gazette

Ratzenhofer takes the reader on a horrific, heart-pounding adventure. The action is brisk, the suspense palatable, and the ending will leave you breathless. Bravo, Mr. Ratzenhofer. You have achieved greatness.

San Francisco Herald

I warn you. Be prepared to stay awake throughout the night. This a page turner not seen since some of the great stories of the 18th century. Ratzenhofer has arrived!

Billy Bob Jenkins
Independent News

Ratzenhofer's detective, Flugheim, has a brilliant mind. Neither Holmes or Dupin could keep pace with his brilliant deductive skills. Folks, we are witnessing true genius here.

Fargo Times