Oh my goodness, I loved this book. Maybe because my grandmother was full Welsh, but probably because it had an engrossing plot, a sweet romance, and poetic prose. I had to look up the castle and all its legends and part of me began planning a trip to Wales.
Here's a few of my favorite lines:
And with one hand at my back, he steered me back into the ebb and flow of life along the pavement.
As I stood there in the churchyard, where the tiny ivy tendrils had stretched over from my grandmother's grave to twine around the glossy leaves of holly at the base of Justin's stone, I'd felt a sense of continuity--of life returning and repeating endlessly, and falling into slumber.
I saw him standing in the doorway still, a solid shadow fixed within the light. And something told me he'd stay standing there until I'd reached the house and shut the door behind me, and he knew that I was safe.
He stretched out his legs, careful not to disturb Chance, who had fallen asleep on his back on the brick hearth with all four feet up in the air, looking for all the world like something that had just been struck by a lorry.
The cluster of ewes kept a respectful distance on their side of the fence, heads lifting now and then to watch us, soft breath steaming in the crisp air of the dying afternoon. We were losing the light, and the setting sun and tinged the clouds a golden rose that glowed against the cold flat blue of dusk.
Sigh. I was sorry to see this one end.
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