Margaret

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The Conjuror’s Ap...
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  (page 207 of 340)
Jun 02, 2026 10:45PM

 
The Slough House ...
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Norse Mythology C...
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Book cover for The Berlin Girl
He was wider and smaller, but his attempts to mimic his obvious hero in Adolf Hitler made him look faintly comical, like some sort of tragic lookalike in a sideshow act. His brush of a moustache stood almost to attention as he tried – and ...more
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Paul  Doherty
“Sire!’ Corbett saw Bassett feel the man’s throat. ‘I think he is dead.’ A young deacon, his gold vestments swirling around him like the dress of a woman, hurried up to Winchelsea. ‘My Lord Bishop,’ he stuttered, ‘the priest is dead.’ Winchelsea glanced sideways at the king. ‘Have his body removed,’ he replied softly. ‘And do not finish the service.’ The man, bowing and bobbing, scurried away. Winchelsea turned to the king. ‘Your Grace,’ he said wryly, ‘it appears there will be no sermon.’ ‘And will I get my taxes, my Lord Bishop?’ ‘Not till this matter is resolved,’ Winchelsea snapped back. He leaned over to the king. ‘I must urge Your Grace to respect the rights of the Church, fought for and protected by the papacy and sealed with the blood of the martyred Becket.’ The king leaned forward, his face suffused with rage.”
Paul Doherty, The Angel of Death

Paul  Doherty
“Then de Montfort, resplendent in liturgical robes as well as his own arrogance, walked back to the altar where the mass continued.”
Paul Doherty, The Angel of Death

Paul  Doherty
“Suddenly de Montfort went rigid and the ciborium slipped from his hand, dashing the white hosts like snowflakes onto the altar steps. The man’s hand went out, pointing at the king, his usually skull-like face now almost cadaverous, the skin drawn tight, the eyes bulging. Corbett rose, his hand searching for the knife beneath his cloak. De Montfort’s mouth opened and shut like a landed carp, then with a loud cry he fell headlong down the steps, his”
Paul Doherty, The Angel of Death

“They say grief’s like stepping on a rake,’ he says, pausing in his tea-making to try and get this right. ‘A rake? As in a garden tool? You’ve lost me.”
Celia Anderson, 59 Memory Lane

Lucy Foley
“This is the first time he has been alone for such a long period of time. Not lonely: that emotion is a familiar friend. One of the things the last few years has taught him is how lonely it is possible to be while surrounded by an entire regiment of men.”
Lucy Foley, Last Letter from Istanbul

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