Ewa Lowe: Chapter 5


Below is Chapter 5 from the sci-fi, triller book Fear is in the Air by Eva Newermann


Fort Lauderdale, Florida – Family

My mom’s sister Lillian and her husband, Dexter, lived on Galt Ocean Drive, in Fort Lauderdale. Every summer my brother and I spent three weeks at their place swimming and surfing. 

On the first floor of their apartment building there is a cinema, a game room and an indoor swimming pool.

They were quite wealthy as they used to own a chain of restaurants called The Big Bang. You can find these restaurants in all the states and they specialize in chicken dinners.

Below the flashing lights from the Big Bang sign you can read, “Give your taste buds an out-of-this-world experience.”

Lillian used to spend a lot of time in the head office, which was in one of the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center in New York.

Every year there is an Air and Sea Show in Fort Lauderdale. Millions of people attend, from all over the world. The beach, which goes on for miles and miles, is packed with festive people. They bring food, barbecue grills, chairs and parasols. It is the biggest beach party ever.

From Lillian’s penthouse apartment on the 15th floor, we used to have a spectacular view; from there people looked small to us, like ants. 

Lillian and Dexter were hobby astronomers. They had a large telescope on the balcony. We sat for hours in the evenings looking up at the sky. This is where my brother, James, got very interested in everything that had to do with the universe and got him interested in studying astronomy in school. 

Lillian bought us an easel, canvases and a whole box of acrylic paints. James and I had so much fun making huge paintings of planets, stars and moons.

When the Air Show started we would always have the best seats in town. Some of the airplanes were even flying below the balcony. We could almost see the white in the pilot’s eyes! 

There are fantastic acrobatic flight demonstrations with US Air Force jets. Many different airplanes covering the skies, and the US Coast Guard demonstrating air and sea rescue.


I was only seven years old when I was at my first Air and Sea Show. Gazing in awe at all the fantastic planes. The Navy’s Blue Angels, a six-plane flying team, especially dazzled me and everybody else with their fantastic stunts. 

I think it was around that time my love for airplanes started and I decided to become a flight attendant. 



Chapter 5 “Fort Lauderdale, Florida – Family” from the book “Fear is in the Air” by Eva Newermann. available on Amazon Kindle and Apple Books


Ewa Lowe: Chapter 4


Below is Chapter 4 from the sci-fi, triller book Fear is in the Air by Eva Newermann


The Pulpit Rock


I pick Erik up at five o’clock. I’m glad to see he’s dressed in his camouflage hunting suit. I’m wearing black slacks, a black jacket, sneakers and I‘ve tucked my hair into a dark green knitted hat. We should both be hard to spot against rocks and trees.

“Hi,” he says, “do you know how to get there?”

“Yes,” I smile, “thanks to Google.”

“First we have to take the ferry to Tau and then it should be a 15-minute drive to the Lodge.”

“Correct,” he says, “I have been to the Pulpit many times. It’s a beautiful hike from the Lodge, but it takes about two hours to reach the Pulpit Rock. The trail is marked all the way so we can’t get lost.”

“Oh, that sounds great,” I say.

“I have never been there,” I lie. I have been there twice. “My dream is to see the sunset while sitting and dangling my feet over the edge of the Pulpit. I’ve seen pictures of people doing that.”

Erik is smiling, “So I presume you don’t have vertigo, fear of heights?” 

I laugh. “Actually, it’s called acrophobia. Vertigo is more like dizziness. No, I don’t have any problems with heights, I’m up there all the time, remember?”

I follow the yellow signs reading Tau Ferry and drive onboard.

“Let’s just stay in the car on the way over,” I say.

No need letting too many people see us together.

Erik looks relieved. He points to a big sign in Norwegian. “This sign says we are not allowed to stay in the car.”

“Don’t worry, if anybody comes I will do the talking and tell him or her that I don’t read Norwegian.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go and buy you a cup of coffee?” he asks.

I reach back over the seat and get my backpack.

“I don’t drink coffee, but see. I’m always prepared.”

I pour hot chocolate into two cups.

“I even have some sandwiches we can eat later.”

He nods and says, “We might have a problem seeing the sunset. After we check in and get settled, it will be too late to go to the Pulpit, since we can’t go back in the dark.”

I reach into the backseat again. “Hakuna matrata, as they say in Swahili. Which means, don’t worry.”

I show him two coal miners flashlights, the kind the coal miners have on their heads.

“Didn’t I say that I’m always prepared?” I grin.

He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“OK,” I say. “I haven’t come this far not to see my sunset! What if we just park the car, walk to the Pulpit and then walk back and check into the Lodge for some fun. Does that sound like a plan to you?”

Little do you know that I have bigger plans for my Viking than a roll in the hay.

Erik throws his arms up. “How can I argue with a plan like that?”

We drive off the ferry and follow the brown sign saying Preikestolen. Every turn has spectacular scenery. Norway must be the most beautiful country in the world with its deep fjords, high mountains and majestic forests.

We pass another sign saying Preikestolen. 

“Look,” I point at the sign. “If we park here and walk, we can probably save some time.”

Erik agrees. The Sun is shining and I put on some big sunglasses and my backpack. Erik also has a small backpack. 

On our way we meet many tourists. Everybody is going in the other direction, back to the Lodge. 

 Good, I sure hope when we get there we will be alone. 

After two hours of fast walking the Sun is getting close to setting. I wonder if we are going to make it. Fifteen minutes later we see the Pulpit Rock. What a sight! The fjord is about 600 meters beneath us. 

Erik puts his backpack down. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” he asks.

I nod and take his hand. We walk to the edge very carefully. Then we sit down and swing our legs over the edge.

The Sun is setting. We are the only two people there. 

Erik draws a breath “Wow! Do you know it is 604 meters straight down, isn’t this the most fantastic view in the world?”

Truly a view to die for. 

“Yes,” I say, “and the view gets even better the closer you get.” 

Before he can react, I slide myself backwards, behind him, put my feet on his lower back and kick him as hard as I can. He tumbles over the edge of the Pulpit Rock.

I peer over the edge. He is spread-eagled, flying down faster and faster.

“Have a nice flight,” I whisper.


There is no sound coming from him. He has probably fainted from fear. He bounces off the rock wall.

Ouch! That must have hurt!

He continues to fall and finally, I can’t see him anymore.

Swift and deadly! One less Viking in this world, his wife should probably thank me.

I lie down on my back –arms out –crucifixion position, just like I did after killing my Pharaoh. 

I can feel a current rippling through my body. The tingling sensation feels like reaching a climax after a strenuous sex act. My whole body is shaking and I feel as if I’m going to black out. I close my eyes and gasp for air. 

The whole sensation probably lasts only for a minute, but the aftereffect leaves me lightheaded and hungry! I sit up, dig into my backpack and gulp down my cocoa and sandwiches. 

Afterwards I put his backpack inside mine and start walking back to the car. Half an hour later, I stop and take out his backpack. Then I throw it, using all my strength, far into a deep ravine. 

Where no man has gone before and probably never will.

The Sun has set and it’s getting dark. I have to use my coal miners headlights to find my way back. 

Because of the difficult terrain it takes me two and a half hours to reach the car.

I have of course not made any reservations at the Pulpit Lodge. Nobody knows I’m here.

 I drive back to the ferry heading for Stavanger.

On the ferry I go into the ladies’ room. In the trunk of my car I have a bag of Sunday clothes and I put them on. I even pin a red, white and blue bow to the lapel of my jacket. That way I look like everybody else celebrating the 17th of May.

When I get back to my hotel it’s filled with intoxicated people. 

These Vikings sure know how to party. 

Nobody notices me going to the elevator.

I jump in the shower and crash into bed, I sleep like a baby through the night.

The next day we are off again, this time heading for home: Florida, USA.



Chapter 4 “The Pulpit Rock” from the book “Fear is in the Air” by Eva Newermann. available on Amazon Kindle and Apple Books

Ewa Lowe: Chapter 3


Below is Chapter 3 from the sci-fi, triller book Fear is in the Air by Eva Newermann


Stavanger – Norway

x 03-F

We are booked into the Atlantic Hotel in downtown Stavanger. The lobby is filled with flags and flowers.

My room overlooks a small lake called Breiavatnet. There is a lighted fountain in the middle. Everywhere there are hundreds of flags blowing in the wind. The Norwegian flag has the same colors as the American flag, red, white and blue, so this is just like the Fourth of July.

I wait two hours before I call Erik. He picks up the phone right away.

Probably been sitting staring at it. 

“Hi, when can we meet?” He asks.

“Well,” I pause. “I’ve been thinking. Tonight is no good. I’m too tired. Tomorrow I’ll have a car for two days. Last time I was here, three years ago, I heard about the Pulpit Rock. I am planning to stay at the Pulpit Lodge tomorrow evening. I have already booked a room. What if I pick you up in the afternoon and we drive up there. Will that work for you?”

I can hear some heavy breathing.

“Sure, that sounds great. I have to spend some time with my relatives during the day,”

Right, probably his wife and five kids…

He continues, “But after that, I’m all yours.”

The next morning, May 17, 2003, I wake up with a start. It’s only 6 in the morning. It sounds like the hotel is being bombed. I run to the window. Outside is a red bus filled with young people, wearing red hats and red jumpsuits. 

Farther down the street I see a blue bus and people dressed in blue. They are setting off firecrackers, blowing whistles and honking their car horns. Some are dancing and singing.

Later on I’m told these are college kids, celebrating their graduation as well as May 17, the day when Norway became independent from Sweden in 1814.

This red and blue gang also drives around to all their teachers’ private houses, waking them up at 5 in the morning.

At 9 in the morning, the parades start all over the country. Every school has its own band playing. It’s like an explosion in colors. They are wearing beautiful national costumes, called bunad, usually with gorgeous jewelry and handmade needlework. 

Everybody is waving flags and shouting in Norwegian.

“Hurra, hurra, hurra for Syttende Mai!”

In Oslo at the Royal Castle, the Royal Family will be on the balcony for hours, waving to all the children parading by.

All day and evening there is small and large celebrations with family outings and different activities. There are shows with famous and infamous people performing.

This is the time you have your first ice-cream cone outdoors, even though it’s still cold in Norway.

I went outside and had an ice-cream cone with two scoops, strawberry and vanilla, topped with whipped cream and a teaspoon of strawberry jam. Terrific!

At noon three other crew members and I go to one of the maritime restaurants surrounding the harbor. 

In the old days these warehouses used to store corn, fish and flour. Inside, the furniture is made out of rough timber and all the lamps are lanterns from old sailing ships. In the ceiling hang large fishnets and green glass buoys. 

“Give us the most unusual dish you have on the menu.” I tell the waitress. 

The captain raises both arms; “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ewa.” 

I grin at him, “Don’t be such a pussy!”

The waitress looks at me for a while and then speaks. “Do you care how much it costs, or how long it will take to prepare?”

“No,” I say with a smile, “just bring us wine and water and surprise us.”

Five minutes later the waitress returns.

“I just have to give you some information about the food you are getting,” she says smiling.

“We usually eat it only before Christmas time. It was a traditional dish for the West coast, but today it has become a delicacy all over Norway.

“Some people think it’s a bizarre tradition, but I can reassure you, it tastes really good!

“However, I would recommend instead of wine that you drink some beer and aquavit before we serve you.”

We are all listening, more or less worried. What’s this all about?

“I warned you earlier,” the captain says, “we should not let Ewa order her bizarre food!”

Turning to the waitress, he says, “Can you tell us the name of this dish?” 

Smalahove,” she says, very slowly.

“Smalahove,” we all repeat, looking at each other.

It doesn’t mean a thing to us.

“Bring the beer and aquavit.” I say.

They don’t know I’m driving to the Pulpit Rock with my Viking later in the afternoon. So I’m just going to pretend that I’m drinking. They have very strict rules in Norway for DUI.

Finally, after 45 minutes, the food arrives. By then everybody is feeling the effects, from the beer and aquavit.

Four waiters are carrying huge plates with silver lids.

When they put them in front of us, we all wait and then take the lids off simultaneously.

“Oh, my God!” 

Lying on the plate, staring up at me, is half a sheep’s head! Complete with an eye and a tongue sticking out! It is dark brown and looks as if it has been grilled before being cooked.


Later I learn that they burn the wool off the head.

There are potatoes and cabbage stew to go with it. The waiters keep assuring us it tastes really good.

“You are supposed to eat the eye last, like a dessert,” our waitress is giggling. 

When we all get our breaths back, I start tasting the meat. It is delicious! Now we all start eating.

“Skaal, Skaal for Smalahove and the aquavit!”

“See, I told you to trust me,” I say to the captain.

He shakes his head. 

“Ewa, you are some crazy, crazy lady!”

Right on the money, buddy!



Chapter 3 “xxx” from the book “Fear is in the Air” by Eva Newermann. available on Amazon Kindle and Apple Books

Ewa Lowe: Chapter 2


Below is Chapter 2 from the sci-fi, triller book Fear is in the Air by Eva Newermann


Star Gaze Airlines (SGA)


We work for an airline named Star Gaze Airlines. I used to work for a big airline, but got an offer I couldn’t refuse. 

SGA offered me more money and longer layovers and we have only first-class passengers. When we fly to Europe we usually have a three-day layover. That means plenty of good shopping and restaurants and of course, for me sometimes, a kill.

I’m slim, with one blue and one green eye, my waist length hair is naturally blonde, I have a light skin tone. I usually blend right in with the rest of the population of the Scandinavian counties.

My uniform is red and white, with a red short jacket and white slacks. It also has a white silk blouse with tiny red stars, red shoes with straps and a little red pillbox hat – the one Jacqueline Kennedy made famous in the ‘60s, designed by Oleg Cassini. The hat has SGA’s star on it and a little wing. My red shoes with straps are special made. All my life I’ve had problems with static electricity so my shoes have crepe rubber soles. This prevents all my handshakes from being a shocking experience. I also have a static shock eliminator that fits on my key chain.

I always wear my little gold airplane necklace around my neck when working.

It’s all topped off with white gloves and “Voila!” 

When I get outside, the rest of the crew is waiting in the limo. This is far better than the buses we had to ride in when working for the big airlines.

Everybody is happy and chatting up a storm.

Suddenly the purser puts his hand under my chin and moves his face close to mine.

“Ewa, let me look in your eyes. You have one green and one blue eye!” he exclaims.

Now everybody is staring at me.

“Yes, yes. I was born with something called full heterochromia. My Dad had green eyes and Mom blue, so here I am with one of each.”

Lovise is nodding. “I once had a cat with different colored eyes.”

“Well,” I grin, “it’s relatively rare in humans, but common in some animals, like cats, horses and dogs. I’m in good company though. David Bowie, Jane Seymour and Keifer Sutherland have different colored eyes, too.”

“Oh,” Lovise says, “I just read an article in a magazine. The scientists say that in 200 years there will be no more blue-eyed people in the world, because brown eyes are so dominant.” She looks around at the other people. No one picks up on her conversational gambit, so she looks back at me.

“Ewa always has so many exciting stories. Why don’t you tell us one of your crazy stories, Ewa?” Lovise asks.

Too bad I can’t tell you what happened this morning, killing my Pharaoh.

“Yes,” I say, “I do have an exciting and scary story to tell. Maybe it will even save your lives one day. 

“This happened when I was in flight training in Kansas City. I had rented a small apartment just ten minutes from the training center. I also had an old car that I used in the evenings to explore the area.

“One day in training the teacher was telling us security procedures and how to get out of difficult situations.

“She said, ‘If you are assaulted or kidnapped, it is very important to keep calm. Try to start a dialogue with your attacker. Tell him your name and other personal things about yourself. Sometimes this can be enough to stop him from hurting you or even killing you. If, on the other hand, you start fighting back, screaming or crying, this will trigger his aggressiveness. So try to stay calm, be inventive, smart and stay safe!’” 

I continue, “Two weeks later, I’m coming home to my apartment very late at night. I park at the curb next to my front door and get out of the car. There are no streetlights, so I don’t see the person jumping me before I feel the cold blade of the knife against my throat. 

“‘Get back into your car,’ he whispers in my ear.

“I feel his breath and long beard against my cheek. I can see he is wearing a black sweater, black slacks and black sneakers. He is not easy to spot in the dark. His skin is light, though and we are the same height. I get back inside the car and my heart and brain are working overtime. 

“My mind starts to race. I need to stay calm and try to remember what the teacher told us. The guy starts pushing my body between the bucket seats. He puts the knife on the console, and with one hand on my throat and the other pulling my dress up, he is trying to get my panties off. This is not easy because he doesn’t have a lot of room to do so. He is panting and the perspiration is running into his dark eyes down his face dripping off his face onto mine. His sweat has a bitter, acrid smell. 

“Finally I find my voice. ‘OK! OK! Take it easy. I will help you get the panties off.’ I’m trying to catch his eyes. My brain is racing. I’m thinking, ‘If I can sit up I might be able to open the door and scream (to hell with my teacher’s advice).’ 

“I have some nosy neighbors, always peeking through the shades. Maybe they will hear me. If they don’t, he will probably kill me. Should I maybe try to kill him with the knife? If I just hurt him and don’t manage to kill him, I’m a dead duck. 

“Anyway, no matter how I look at it, I’m in deep shit! But first of all, I have to be able to sit up. 

“’Listen,’ I say. ‘I’ve got my period and I’m using a tampon. If you are going to have sex with me I have to take out the tampon. Please let me sit up so I can take my panties off. Don’t worry, everything will be OK’

“He stops what he is doing leans back and wipes the sweat off his forehead. ‘OK,’ he says, ‘sit up, but no funny business!’

“’No! No! No funny business.’ I say, pushing myself up. ‘Just fun business and by the way, my name is Ewa.’ He looks startled and in one swipe I grab the knife, open the door and drop the knife under the car, screaming my head off.

“He grabs my neck and starts squeezing, soon we are both purple in the face. Suddenly my neighbor’s face appears inside the car. ‘Get off that girl,’ he yells. ‘I’ve called 911, the police will be here soon. Let her go!’

“My attacker lets go of his grip and scrambles out of the car. He punches my neighbor in the stomach and disappears into the darkness.” 

Just as I say, ‘darkness,’ the lights come on inside the limo. We are at the airport.

“Final destination!” I say.

“Heavens to Betsy!” Lovise blurts out, “Did they ever catch the guy?”

“No,” I shake my head, “I tried picking him out from mug shots, but the guy I said looked like him turned out to be Charles Manson, but he was already in jail.”

We all scramble out of the limo and the captain taps me on the shoulder.

“I’m sure glad it turned out OK for you, Ewa.”

I nod. “Just call me lucky and I hope I’ll never get in a situation like that again.”

“OK, gang.” The purser does a little shuffle, “Are we ready to take on the passengers? And here’s hoping there will be no violence on the plane.” 

Finally we are on the plane and everyone gets busy. I’m in the galley, checking on the food supply.

Only the best is good enough. We have Norwegian salmon, Russian caviar, Caesar salad, filet mignon and lobster (Surf and Turf). For dessert there is cantaloupe with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

Before takeoff, we serve drinks: Mojitos, Mimosas, or whatever the passengers want.

We are of course using silverware, fine crystal and white linen. No plastic in this house!

The passengers start boarding.

One of the passengers catches my eye. He has beautiful grizzled hair. Unusual, since he is in his late 30s. He’s got big brown eyes and a handsome tanned face.

When he stores his bag, I notice he is wearing a wedding band on his right hand.

We – Americans – wear it on the left hand.

His ugly brown eyes keep following me all the time, when I finally get around to serving him, his wedding band is gone.

OK, so he has removed his ring. The guy is very interested. This could be my next prey.

“Hi, Ewa, my name is Erik.” (He has read my name tag.)

I smile and hold his gaze, just long enough so he knows I’m interested, too.

Later I go over to my gray-haired Viking. I sit on his armrest and get some info.

He lives in Stavanger and next week he is going for an interview as a coach for the local men’s soccer team, called The Vikings.

He loves the outdoors, fishing and hunting.

Interesting…. I’m the one who’s going to hunt you.

“Did you know, tomorrow, the 17th of May, is our national holiday?” he asks.

“Yes,” I smile. 

I always Google the cities and countries we are flying to. I even try to learn some of the language. 

Alt for Norge!” (Everything for Norway) I say, with my American accent.

Erik laughs out loud.

Oh, yeah, I think he’s hooked.

“You know, you look very Scandinavian,” he says.

“Yes, I hear that a lot. My ancestors immigrated from Selbu, Norway, in the 1850s. I think their last name was Storset. One of these days, when I get some free time, I should go there and try to find them.” 

Later, when I serve him, I say, “Skaal! 

He slips me a piece of paper and makes the ‘call me’ gesture with his hand.

Lovise and I are sitting in our seats ready for landing. As usual, when we are flying together she wants me to tell her wacky stories. Things I have experienced on a flight or in different cities.

“Did I ever tell you about the flight with all the priests?”

“No, no, you haven’t,” she’s glowing with anticipation.

“Well, we’re flying from Shannon, Ireland, to New York and the plane is packed with Irish priests. White collars, robes and all. They start ordering Irish whisky and bellowing things like, ‘Guid forder’ (good luck) and ‘Bottoms up!’

“And drink up, they sure did. They were drinking the glasses dry. What I didn’t know, until later, was that many of them had brought their own Devil’s whisky on board. This was before the September 11 attacks, so it was open season to bring almost anything onto the plane. I guess nobody was going to pat down a priest.”

“Oh, my,” Lovise is giggling, “this is going to be good.”

“Right,” I shake my head, “and it gets better.”

“After six hours of heavy drinking, I had a whole plane full of crazy, boozehound priests on my hands. I’ve talked to the captain, but since we are flying over the Atlantic Ocean, there is really nothing he can do. We are just hoping they will all calm down, maybe even pass out.

“Finally the plane lands and the passengers are disembarking. I’m standing in the doorway together with the purser. Suddenly, this enormous priest, his white collar now on top of his red hair, locks his arms around my neck and declares, ‘I’m in love! I’m in love!’

“Now the purser is trying to pry open his hands, but he is not strong enough. He runs to the cockpit shouting, ‘We have a situation here!’

“The captain radios for help. The copilot and purser finally manage to get the priest off me. My face is nearly blue.

“The security guys arrive and handcuff him. They have to carry the priest off the plane. 

“We can hear him babbling, ’I want to marry this angel. No more celibacy for me! Please! Please! Don’t take me away from my angel!’”

Lovise and I are still chuckling when we say goodbye to our passengers. 

When Erik, my Viking, passes me in the doorway, he hands me a postcard “This is one of the things you should see in Stavanger. The giant swords of Hafrsfjord, it’s a monument of three large swords commemorating the battle of Hafrsfjord in the late eight-hundreds where Harald Hårfagre became the first king of Norway.”

“I sure will,” I give him my best smile. 

When we get off the plane it’s evening in Norway and we have landed at Sola airport.




Second chapter “Star Gaze Airlines (SGA)” from the book “Fear is in the Air” by Eva Newermann. available on Amazon Kindle and Apple Books

Ewa Lowe: Chapter 1


Below is Chapter 1; Egypt, from the sci-fi, triller book Fear is in the Air by Eva Newermann


Egypt – May 16, 2003


The corpse is still nice and warm. His eyes are wide open. 

Actually, he is a nice-looking guy. Too bad he had brown eyes. I hate brown eyes!

My name is Ewa Lowe. I work as a flight attendant. Today is my 25th birthday; of course, I had to celebrate it with a kill. 

It sounds like machine guns letting off several bursts of gun fire, but it’s only the thundering sound of the rain drops hitting my rental car. 

A rainy day is a good time for a kill. Then most of the evidence is washed away, making it difficult for the forensics people.

He is lying on his back in the sand all wet from our skinny-dip. The ocean and rain feel warm on my bare body. The temperature is 26 degrees Celsius. To me, it’s a perfect day in Egypt.

I met the now-dead Pharaoh serving him on my flight last night. He made an easy prey with his black hair, ugly brown eyes and tall, slim body. He told me he was in the middle of a bad divorce. 

That was fine with me. Then he would not tell anybody he is fooling around. Too bad he didn’t know that any brown-eyed guy hitting on me ends up dead.

We agreed that I would pick him up the next day at 11 in the morning, two blocks from my hotel.

I took him to a remote beach I discovered driving around earlier that day.

Amazing how easy it is to lure these men. Even to a beach in pouring rain. Just promise them sex and they follow like lambs to the slaughter.

I gave him Rohypnol, the date rape drug. After the September 11 attacks, the security checks at the airports are tight. I have to hide the drug in my birth-control kit. The pills fit perfectly into the little wheel. Usually the only comment I get from the security guys when they look at it is: ‘Better to be safe than sorry,’ said with a smirk.

I put three pills in the Pharaoh’s wine before our swim. I know exactly how long it will take before he’s paralyzed. The first sign is that he gets groggy, so I get him onshore. He collapses and then I am free to do whatever I want.

In my purse I have some razor blades and latex gloves. After putting on the gloves, I run my fingers through his wet hair and neck. I put his arms on his stomach. Then, I take first his right then his left wrists and cut them, upwards, real deep. 

Wow! Looks like a volcano erupted!

I pull his arms out, so that he is lying in the Jesus crucifixion position. I drop the razor blade on his stomach.

Some of the blood is running down his groin. I get some blood on me, but that is going to be easy to clean, since I’m naked.

After another dip in the ocean I see that life is running out of my Jesus, my Pharaoh. 

“Exsanguination. Isn’t that a beautiful word?” I say it canorously, tunefully. 

I lie down next to him in the sand, in the same position he is in. 

“Exsanguination!” I call out in a singsong voice, “That’s the medical term for bleeding to death.”

I am drifting into something familiar…. A spine tingling desire is running through me. A shiver crawls along my skin. 

Suddenly, it turns into an electric shock, knocking me even deeper down into the sand. This is the trauma of my sordid, secret past, catching up with me. My body shakes and it feels as if I’m going into an aphrodisiac spasm. 

After a while I feel normal again. I look at my dead Pharaoh.

The rain feels good, like Holy Water on my body. Oh, this is so great; it’s giving me goose bumps, or it’s giving me cutis anserine. I like these medical terms. 

They might think it’s a suicide since he is so depressed about his divorce. With some luck he wont be found for 80 hours, then there will be no trace of Rohypnol in his body. 

Hope they have some lousy Horatio Caines here in Egypt’s C.S.I.

I peel off the bloody gloves and stuff them in a plastic bag, then I put on some new gloves. The wine bottles, paper cups and gloves will be thrown into different garbage containers on my way back to the hotel.

I toss his wallet far into the ocean and cover him with some branches; that will probably delay identifying him. 

I will be out of the country this evening. My flight is to Norway. Oh, yes, many tall, blue-eyed guys in Norway. I’m looking forward to that!

I walk 15 minutes to get back to my rental. I always park the car where other cars have been driving, even though in this rain I really don’t have to worry about my foot prints or tire tracks being found.

I’m wearing a dark brown wig it’s soaking wet and I place it in a plastic bag. Well, at least my own hair is dry. A few tosses with my hair, some brushstrokes, a little lipstick and I’m on my way.

Not that I am happy to be on the road with Cairo’s five million people, all driving like maniacs.

Remind me never to rent a car in Cairo again. Driving back to the hotel is a nightmare, I don’t think any of the drivers in Egypt have ever passed a driving test or taken any lessons. Whoever drives fastest, honks his horn the loudest, or screams highest out the car window rules!

To block out some of the noise I plop in my favorite CD and turn the music up, loud. I have had these songs specially made for me. 

Three years ago I met the Norwegian singer and musician Frode and we became friends. I asked him to record a CD containing specific songs. 

I told him the first and the last song on it should be ‘Love is in the air,’ but I had Frode sing the words ‘Fear is in the air.’ ‘Brown-eyed girl’ became ‘Blue-eyed girl.’ ‘Killing me softly with his song’ became ‘Killing you softly with my song,’ and so on. I think you get the picture…. 

So here I am, singing along, driving in crazy Cairo.

I have been in Cairo once before as a tourist. On the agenda then were sightseeing tours to the Valley of the Kings, the Temple of Karnak and the Pyramids of Giza. 

Yesterday I went to the Cairo Egyptian Museum. I wanted to see the golden mask of King Tutankhamen, popularly called King Tut. It was an English archaeologist, Howard Carter, who discovered the tomb in 1922. He had been trying to find it for five years. 

Carter’s father, Samuel, was an artist. He taught Howard to paint and draw. I think we all can be grateful that Howard started excavating instead.

King Tut was born in 1341 B.C. They think, after DNA analysis, that he was probably killed by an infection or malaria, in 1323 B.C.

The museum was packed with people. Everyone was trying to get into the room where King Tutankhamen’s mask was on display. 

We passed a life-sized ebony statue. This statue guarded the treasure room of the tomb. Many people who have been in contact with the tomb have died mysteriously. This phenomena has been called the Mummy’s Curse. Legend has it that anyone who dares to open the tomb will suffer the wrath of the mummy.

My dead Pharaoh suffered the wrath of Ewa. Let’s just hope I don’t get any angry mummy chasing me. 

After an hour in line I could finally gaze at the unique funerary mask of King Tutankhamen. The gold, glass and semiprecious stones glitter in the soft spotlights. It sure was worth the wait. I could probably spend days in the museum and still not be able to see everything. 

I’m staying at a hotel named Mena House Oberoi. What a beautiful place! It’s only a five-minute walk to the Great Pyramids of Giza. My room has a balcony with a breathtaking view of the pyramids. 

Back in 1869, when the hotel was built, it was called Palace Khedives Ismail. It was used as a palace for the prince and his hunting buddies. The hotel is an oasis of elegance and luxury. 

One of the restaurants, Khan El Khalili, has a view of the pyramids. In the evening when the pyramids are illuminated, it’s a sight you will never forget.

When I arrive back at the hotel I meet Lovise and the captain in the lobby. Lovise is our youngest flight attendant. She is a friend of my brother’s wife, Irene and they invited her to their wedding in Las Vegas. Lovise is a hard worker and always in a good mood. I like her a lot. 

She pulls some pictures out of her purse. “Look, Ewa, the pictures you took of me by the pool with the pyramids in the background turned out great!” 


The captain, already in his snappy uniform, is looking at the pictures too. “Did you know there was this American who had a scam going on to sell the pyramids to the highest bidder?” 

We all start laughing.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” I say, “another American is selling off properties on the Moon, so far he has probably made millions. I thought this was such a clever and fun scam, I sent him my hundred bucks. So now I’m the proud owner of one acre, named Stargate, on the Moon, and I have the deed to prove it!”

“That could only happen in America.” The captain is grinning. “Ewa, we missed you last evening. I tried to call you before we went out for dinner, but this bird has flown, like the Beatles sang.” The captain loves the Beatles. 

I laugh, “Clever of you to quote something from ‘Norwegian Wood,’ since we are flying to Norway today.”

He beams. 

“Sorry I couldn’t join you,” I say, with a smile, “I have some friends in the city and we went out for drinks, but now I have to get dressed. See you in the limo.”

“Do you need any help?” he says, with a wink.

I tick my finger at him, “Naughty, naughty,” and run upstairs.



First chapter “Egypt May 16, 2003” from the book “Fear is in the Air” by Eva Newermann. available on Amazon Kindle and Apple Books

Ewa Lowe & Childhood Trauma



Ewa was only 10 years old when she had a traumatic event that would haunt her forever. Her loving cat, Nikita, was of great consolation to her the next couple of years.


Link: Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.

Ewa Lowe & Star Trek Friends



Ewa’s friend, Lovise, together with a Klingon and Ferengi. The fun party is in Las Vegas at Ewa’s brother’s elaborate wedding. At this time, Ewa doesn’t know that someone she will meet that evening, will change her life forever.


Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.


Ewa Lowe: UFO



Acrylic Painting by Eva Newermann

Stonehenge, England, built more than 5000 years ago. The heavy stones, are called bluestones, because of their blue color. They were dragged all the way from the Presell Mountains in South Wales, 402 kilometers away. Still, some people think : The aliens built it!

Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.

Ewa Lowe: à la carte



When Ewa is in Norway she orders a local dish: Smalahove. It turns out it’s half of a sheep’s head, complete with an eye and a tunge sticking out! There are potatoes and cabbage stew to go with it, too.


English2 Have you tasted Smalahove, when visiting Norway or somewhere else? Did you like it?


NorwegianHar du smakt på Smalahove i Norge eller i utlandet? Likte du det?



Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.

Ewa Lowe & Hawaii



Ewa’s parents went to Hawaii on their honeymoon. Feeling amorous, they found a deserted beach and imitated Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in ‘From Here to Eternity.’ Leaving the beach, they saw a large sign: Ewa Beach – Welcome Back! Nine months later, Ewa was born.


Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.


Ewa Lowe & the Air and Sea Show



Ewa was only 7 years old when she saw her first Air & Sea Show in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. That sparked the idea of her becoming a flight attendant.



Ewa Lowe is a woman with a dark past, she is the main character, in the sci-fi thriller: Fear is in the Air.

I will regularly be posting a painting or image from the book, with some hints about what the book contains, here on my blog.