Pandora Fleisher

“All night long Alec sat in his chair in his pyjamas and dressing gown, socks on his feet to keep out the cold, a cigarette in his fingers with a long ash hovering over a half-full ashtray. He attempted to go to bed but the incident with Father Joe kept his mind in turmoil. This girl, well, woman now – she would be around thirty – was a mystery during the war. She was kidnapped, it was thought, from her school, the day the Germans entered Paris. Her uncle, Sir Jason Barrett MP, was in England; her step-parents were somewhere else in France, on holiday, and found they could not get back; and Charlotte was being cared for by a Swedish couple, a nanny or housekeeper and her chauffeur husband.
Was Charlotte actually Freya? What had this baron fellow to do with Freya, apart from marrying her? Had she been a prostitute? And what was the old cleric babbling on about “finding her and protecting her”? From whom?”
― Hugo Woolley, The Wasp Trap

“We were left with nothing because of a love like acid that ate its way through our entire family.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“He thrust his shoulders back and spoke in a whisper that sounded like the hiss of a snake.
‘Yes, the very battle between good and evil, played out even in the lowliest of lives like yours. Witches killing dogs because they did not get their favourite drink.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“Marco had examined every inch of Guayanés Beach, where coconut palms that once grew along the shore in majestic rows lay crisscrossed in the sand like scattered pencils.”
― Margarita Barresi, A Delicate Marriage