I read Plainsong in two nights, Benediction in one. I cried at least 3-4 times during the last one. Eventide is on its way. I'm telling you, these are wonderful. That is my problem with great fiction. I can't stop and I'm up until one or two in the morning reading. With non-fiction or the New Yorker, I finally grow weary and am asleep by 10:30. These two were worth the bags under my eyes.
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