By Helen Dunmore
Read or Download A Spell of Winter PDF
Similar contemporary books
Not anything may possibly cease Aspen inn inheritor Gavin Jarrod's land seize. now not even the ornery owner's insistence that Gavin marry his granddaughter to seal the deal. Gavin used to be as much as the problem of marriage ceremony excellent stranger Sabrina Taylor, on the grounds that this gorgeous stranger was once excellent. After a whirlwind seduction, he had her wed and bedded…to their mutual delight.
#1 bestselling writer Mike Gayle returns with this wickedly saw novel approximately smooth relationships: does Mr Irresponsible have what it takes to develop into Mr dedication? Duffy is engaged. He accredited Mel's idea. however the journeys to IKEA, dinner events for and speak of infants are giving him itchy toes and now he is not definite if he can say so long to his prolonged youth and stand up to that ultimate stroll down the aisle.
As soon as upon a time there has been a woman who shied clear of the limelight. .. . until eventually she arrived at Ch? teau de Belles Fleurs and have become the megastar of her personal real-life fairy story. .. . Dana is surprised whilst the attractive ch? teau proprietor, Alex Martin, notices her. She will possibly not have a fairy godmother yet she'll express Alex that there is a convinced, vivid girl ready to burst out of Dana Lofgren!
- The Romans
- Aspetta primavera, Bandini
- Contemporary Internal Medicine: Clinical Case Studies
- The Gatecrasher
- Another Place to Die
- Summer Pleasures
Additional info for A Spell of Winter
It doesn’t worry me, Elsie,’ I say. ‘I like the kerosene stove. ’ I am going back into the silence my grandfather came from. You have to keep on with a house, day after day, I think. Heating, cleaning, opening and closing windows, making sounds to fill the silence, cooking and washing up, laundering and polishing. As soon as you stop there may as well never have been any life at all. A house dies as quickly as a body. Soon the house will be as it was when my grandfather first came here with my mother still a baby.
She walked across the lawn as if it belonged to her. ‘And so these are the children. What perfect pets,’ she said, and she laid two white fingers on Father’s sleeve. Her eyes were smiley and swimmy and she kept them fixed on Father as much as she could, drawing him under the wavery shade of her parasol where her pale cheeks glimmered and her crown of shining hair tumbled down like water. She didn’t look at us. The hard eyes of the dog glared at me from the crook of her arm. I stared back, because I knew that a dog will always look away first.
I was Cathy and she was Kate. We had the same name really. I was Catherine and she was Kathleen, but no one had called her that since she was baptized at two days old. Mother was gone, and Father was away. There was Kate to look after us, and Eileen in the sewing-room, and the kitchen warm and humming with people. There was Grandfather in London. There was nothing to be frightened of here. The fluttering shadows only startled me because they were sudden, like moths’ wings. ’ snapped Kate at the fire, and it snapped back a slim tongue of flame, as sharp as hers.
A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore