When one find's oneself passing an evening in a house not far from the ocean, lit only by candlelight, with chandeliers rattling and shaking, and trees dropping angrily, there seems nothing wiser to do than haul book out of bag, and
begin The Deptford Trilogy from the beginning.
maybe any book for that matter, I will have to check this out-I love a mystery. pgt
ReplyDeleteToo true. The Deptford Trilogy was urged upon me with the words, "I am so jealous that you haven't read this yet!"
ReplyDeleteAnd when the sky shatters into shards of mirror, lit by lemon veined nimbus...reach to the back of the cupboard for the slender spine of Thunder Cake. Surely some mischief is afoot
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