Running Wild now into Kindle

January 7, 2013

running_wildIt should appear on Amazon today or tomorrow.

This cover shows wild Lathyrus (sweet pea) clambering through an espalier tree of Discovery apple – to suggest the burgeoning fruitfulness of rural Dorset where the main action of the novel is set.

5 Responses to “Running Wild now into Kindle”

  1. Annegret said

    Greetings from the roadside!
    Annegret

    Some things are very dear to me—
    Such things as flowers bathed by rain
    Or patterns traced upon the sea
    Or crocuses where snow has lain …

    Gwendolyn B. Bennett (1902 – 1981)

  2. Lynn M. Kurzava PhD said

    Many people like eBooks and I’m sure there are happy readers out there who have read Stormy Weather in that format. I, however, am a bibliomaniac. I love books: I read them, read books about them, collect them, rescue and repair them, even make them. I only read real books. Therefore I am both disappointed and frustrated that your new book is not in print. Will it ever be? If so, when? The Kindle edition was “published” on 15 December 2011, and I am writing on 31 August 1913. A long time to wait for a book by a favourite author. How much longer?

    Are there other readers out there who crave to read Stormy Weather and are waiting for it to be published as a real book?

  3. Annegret said

    “Potatoes are important … Love fades and dust hath closed Helen’s eye but potatoes go on for ever. I do them in the pressure cooker, so they don’t take long.”

    From: D.E. Stevenson (1892-1973),
    Mrs. Tim Flies Home (1952)

  4. Annegret said

    Poetry for consolation on yet another ugly political day (among so many), with greetings from the Canadian fan chapter. Have to re-read Running Wild for consolation.

    Le saule

    Pâle étoile du soir, messagère lointaine,
    Dont le front sort brillant des voiles du couchant,
    De ton palais d’azur, au sein du firmament,
    Que regardes-tu dans la plaine?

    La tempête s’éloigne et les vents sont calmés.
    La forêt, qui frémit, pleure sur la bruyère;
    Le phalène doré, dans sa course légère,
    Traverse les prés embaumés.

    Que cherches-tu sur la terre endormie?
    Mais déjà, vers les monts, je te vois t’abaisser;
    Tu fuis, en souriant, mélancolique amie,
    Et ton tremblant regard est près de s’effacer.

    Étoile qui descends vers la verte colline,
    Triste larme d’argent du manteau de la Nuit,
    Toi que regarde au loin le pâtre qui chemine,
    Tandis que pas à pas son long troupeau le suit,

    Étoile, où t’en vas-tu, dans cette nuit immense?
    Cherches-tu, sur la rive, un lit dans les roseaux?
    Ou t’en vas-tu, si belle, à l’heure du silence,
    Tomber comme une perle au sein profond des eaux?

    Ah! si tu dois mourir, bel astre, et si ta tête
    Va dans la vaste mer plonger ses blonds cheveux,
    Avant de nous quitter, un seul instant arrête; —
    Étoile de l’amour, ne descends pas des cieux!

    Alfred de Musset (1810 – 1857)

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