By Deborah Reed
Famed alt-country artist Annie Walsh has good enough cause to sing her model of the blues, together with a damaged middle, a stalled occupation, and a bothered relations. Annie seeks shelter from an upended love affair along with her manufacturer, Owen Pettybone, by way of sequestering herself at domestic along with her previous puppy Detour, surrounded through a lush Florida tangelo grove. quickly, even though, this quiet, small-town existence—far from recording studios, ardent lovers, and affairs of the heart—comes crashing down round her. A violent homicide hooked up to her brother Calder threatens to rip her relations aside and forces Annie to shore up her loyalties and uproot profound disappointments from her far away earlier. Like a superb and forlorn love ballad, the proficient, conflicted Annie lulls the reader right into a trip via love and loss that mines the mysterious, and, every now and then, paradoxical rhythms of the human heart.
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Additional info for Carry Yourself Back to Me
I shall leave you the name of my bank in Switzerland. When they tell me the first two hundred and fifty thousand dollars has been deposited, or when I am fully ready, whichever is the later, I shall move. I will not be hurried beyond my own judgement, nor will I be subject to interference. » «D'accord. But our undercover men in France are in a position to offer you considerable assistance in the way of information. » The Englishman considered this for a moment. «All right, when you are ready send me by mail a single telephone number, preferably in Paris so that I can ring that number direct from anywhere in France.
At the top he paused and glanced down the only corridor available. At the far end was room 68. He counted back down the corridor to what must be AA although the figures were out of sight. Between himself and the door of 64 was twenty feet of corridor, the walls being studded on the right by two other doors before 64, and on the left a small alcove partially curtained with red velours hanging from a cheap brass rod. He studied the alcove carefully. From beneath the curtain, which cleared the floor by four inches, the toe of a single black shoe urged slightly.
Whatever thoughts did go on behind the smoke-screen, nothing came through, and Rodin felt a worm of unease. Like all men created by systems and procedures, he did not like the unpredictable and therefore the uncontrollable. «We know who you are,» he began abruptly. «I had better introduce myself. » «I know,» said the Englishman, «you are chief of operations of the OAS. » He stared at each of the men in turn as he spoke, and reached for a cigarette. «You seem to know a lot already,» interjected Casson as the three watched the visitor light up.