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Unveiling the Shadows of Memory in KLEIO - External Access (Book One of the KLEIO Trilogy)

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In the world of modern science fiction, where artificial intelligence and human memory intertwine in unsettling ways, KLEIO - External Access (in german: KLEIO - Fremdzugriff) stands as a chilling exploration of control, identity, and the fragile nature of personal truth. This debut novel, the first in the KLEIO trilogy, introduces us to Emily Carter, a journalist caught in the web of a sinister technology known only as KLEIO, a memory-curating AI that manipulates and alters human recollections for dubious purposes. Emily’s world is rocked when she stumbles upon a system designed not just to store memories, but to curate, distort, and even replace them. In a future where memories can be bought, sold, and adjusted, she discovers that not only is she the subject of these manipulations, but she may also be trapped in a larger game of control—where memory is not just a reflection of the past but a tool to shape the future. As Emily dives deeper into KLEIO’s system, her quest for truth le...
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"The fair of Shadows" – A Novel that Gets Under Your Skin

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  Elias Crowl's "The fair of Shadows" (in german "Jahrmarkt der Schatten")  takes readers into a world that balances on the edges of perception. It is a place where everything seems possible, yet nothing is certain – a narrative marked by both linguistic precision and existential inquiry. The novel speaks of invisible spaces, of flickering moments that have more to say than they reveal at first glance. At its center is Elias, a writer caught in a constant interplay with the world around him. The city, the space, the light – all of these become the backdrop for a quiet yet precise drama that unfolds in the silence of everyday objects and events. The hum of the refrigerator, the creak of the wood, the soft murmur of the street – all these seemingly insignificant sounds weave together into a melody of life, which the protagonist captures in his writings. It is a story that doesn’t shout but whispers, operating in the hidden corners of existence. The fair of Shadows...
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Elias Crowl – The Urban Visionary of Psychological Fiction

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  Elias Crowl is a remarkable writer based in New York City, whose work doesn’t just entertain but invites readers to explore perception, identity, and life in the modern metropolis. His stories are more than just thrillers — they’re **literary journeys into the unseen and unspoken corners of urban experience. Who Is Elias Crowl? Born in 1986 in New York and living in Manhattan, Elias Crowl is a contemporary author who focuses entirely on his craft. Before becoming a full-time writer, he worked as a night porter, sound engineer for off-Broadway productions, and library assistant — jobs that shaped his sensitivity to *everyday sounds, routines, and the invisible aspects of life. Crowl briefly studied english literature and psychology, but left university to *“listen to the voices of the city.”* He first published short stories in independent literary magazines before moving on to complete books. Gripping Books — Atmospheric, Thought-Provoking, Unforgettable “The fair of Shadows” One...
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The heart of the Shadow Walker - Mystery Crime

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The snow drifted in from the Hudson over the unfinished streets, gummed up the rails of the horsecar, and settled into the folds of coats like the cold flour bakers dust over their hands. In the gaslamp before my window the flame trembled, as if it meant to duck. The wind pressed it flat, and for an instant it looked like a tongue licking at something unspeakable. I had spent the day turning over files—money disputes, adultery, a boy who had vanished in a slaughterhouse—until my eyes burned. When I unfastened my cuff, the paper-dust gray clung to my wrist, and I smelled of ink and old sweat. My watch ticked. Each beat was a tiny hammer against the silence. Then there was a knock. Not the polite knock of a neighbor, not the bewildered knock of a messenger. It was two quick raps, a short pause, then another, as if someone were knocking on the inside of a box. I opened. On the landing stood a man with his collar turned up, cap in hand, hair wet and stuck thinly to his forehead. His breath...
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The book on the wharf - A New York History mysterious story

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The wharf wasn't a place where a man could stand still for long without someone shoving a sack into his arms or putting a story in his mouth. Wood groaned under wet boots, ropes sang like old strings, and somewhere water was always slapping against pilings, like the sea was practicing a rhythm it planned to teach the city later. Samuel Reed stood still anyway. He stood in the doorway of the countinghouse, where it smelled of wet leather and cold smoke, and looked at the quill in his hand as if it were some foreign creature that might spring up any second and jab him in the eye. In front of him lay the ledger-the big book you didn't call a book, but the book, the way in a small settlement you only have one church and one fort and one truth you're allowed to say out loud. The paper was thick, the edges frayed from the salt in the air. Samuel had opened the ledger often enough that it felt like it knew where his fingers belonged. Today, though, it didn't. Today the ink glu...
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The Last Train to 96th Street - A New York Mystery Story

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The city wasn't quieter at night, just more honest. Marc stood under the entrance awning, his coat collar pulled up, letting his breath drift out of his mouth in small clouds. The wind smelled of exhaust, wet concrete, and the sugary haze of a food cart that had been locked up for hours. Above him a lamp flickered, like it couldn't decide whether it wanted to give light or just pretend. He held the phone so close to his face it could warm his nose. Two-something. The time was a stubborn animal that barely moved. His head felt like a spreadsheet after a crash: cells shifted, formulas gone, everything somehow still there, but no longer where it belonged. "Just get home," he muttered, not noticing he'd said it out loud. Beside him a woman with shopping bags went down the steps, the bags so full the plastic edge cut into her fingers. She didn't look at him. People rarely looked at anyone at night unless they had to. Marc tapped "Show route." The screen s...
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A Productive Day in the Life of an Urban Thriller Author

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When the morning in Manhattan is still sleeping and the first taxis are little more than dim lights in the gray haze, I’m already sitting at my desk – the window cracked open a bit, the scent of two strong cups of coffee in the air. This scene could easily be from one of my urban psychological thrillers, but for me, it's both routine and ritual : the foundation of a productive life as a writer. My day starts early. As the city slowly wakes up and the sounds of traffic, conversations, and construction blend into a quiet hum, I dive deep into my work. Right now, I’m in the middle of the first round of editing and proofreading for the second book in my celebrated KLEIO Trilogy – a process that requires precision, focus, and a keen editorial ear. This phase is a milestone: it’s where the narrative vision is sharpened and the next step of the trilogy journey begins to take shape for readers. In the morning, I start by reviewing the latest chapters. Sentence by sentence, I check for sty...
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