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78 pages, Paperback
First published August 27, 2013
Quentin was down on his hands and knees, head to one side, staring skeptically at the trap. He raised his front paw a little, hesitating, then adjusted a twig. He looked decidedly feline. If you narrowed your eyes, you could almost see his spots.
The wind was sniping and low clouds poured in from the west over Middelberg. I opened a bottle of workmanlike Shiraz and sat beside the fire, staring at the living darkness. There was no moon and the stars hissed quietly in the icy firmament. The stream grumbled loudly, wind whooshed in the bare branches, the black mountains pressed closer. Somewhere, close by, was my leopard.