What a book! Kamila Shamsie kills.
Read this last month like a mad person, between field visits to obscure places. Cordova was everywhere...
Read this last month like a mad person, between field visits to obscure places. Cordova was everywhere...
This would have been an ideal Sunday had there been no chores. I'm halfway through this and it's unputdownable. Too bad domesticity gets in the way.
If end-of-life discussions were an experimental drug, the FDA would approve it.
Started this book on a sick day, thinking it was a warm-fuzzy romance. It wasn't. But it was everything I needed that day!
Why did people ask "What is it about?" as if a novel had to be about only one thing?