A pleasant surprise
Christmas always brings at least one book token. Despite the fact that I was confirmed about a quarter century ago, and thus technically no longer her responsibility, my Godmother still remembers my birthday and Christmas with the gift of reading. And she knows how much books cost, too, so it's not like I'm still getting the fiver that was plenty back in the seventies.
Christmas also brings with it festive lurgies and other such nasty things. Every year, without fail, either the Horse Doctor falls ill or I do. Last year I forewent Hogmanay due to sniffles, and the desperate need to finish Natural Causes before the year was out. Running nose and aching head spoilt that plan - I gave up around ten and crawled into bed.
This year it's the Horse Doctor's turn, and surprise surprise, we've run out of cold remedies. So off to town we go. And since I have book tokens, off to Otterstones we go as well.
Now, normally whenever I go to a bookshop I look in the crime section and make sure to put all Stuart's books face out so people will buy them. Sometimes this isn't possible, as Aberystwyth is something of a dead zone for anything that might be considered popular. Today, they had one copy of Broken Skin and nothing else. But at least they had that, as I said to the Horse Doctor. They never have any of Mr Rickards' books.
But I was wrong. For there, filed under R, were three brand spanking new copies of Burial Ground.
As far as I'm aware, it's not supposed to be published until next month. I was fully expecting to have to order it from Amazon, or wait until next I go to Chapters bookstore in Lethbridge, Alberta.* But there it was, waiting for me. And I had book tokens. Even better. One of the three copies has now followed me home, and since it's dark outside, I've no excuse not to sit down by the fire and read.
I'll see you all later.
* which given the house buying may well be a long time. Still, that's where I got my copy of The Touch of Ghosts
Christmas also brings with it festive lurgies and other such nasty things. Every year, without fail, either the Horse Doctor falls ill or I do. Last year I forewent Hogmanay due to sniffles, and the desperate need to finish Natural Causes before the year was out. Running nose and aching head spoilt that plan - I gave up around ten and crawled into bed.
This year it's the Horse Doctor's turn, and surprise surprise, we've run out of cold remedies. So off to town we go. And since I have book tokens, off to Otterstones we go as well.
Now, normally whenever I go to a bookshop I look in the crime section and make sure to put all Stuart's books face out so people will buy them. Sometimes this isn't possible, as Aberystwyth is something of a dead zone for anything that might be considered popular. Today, they had one copy of Broken Skin and nothing else. But at least they had that, as I said to the Horse Doctor. They never have any of Mr Rickards' books.
But I was wrong. For there, filed under R, were three brand spanking new copies of Burial Ground.
As far as I'm aware, it's not supposed to be published until next month. I was fully expecting to have to order it from Amazon, or wait until next I go to Chapters bookstore in Lethbridge, Alberta.* But there it was, waiting for me. And I had book tokens. Even better. One of the three copies has now followed me home, and since it's dark outside, I've no excuse not to sit down by the fire and read.
I'll see you all later.
* which given the house buying may well be a long time. Still, that's where I got my copy of The Touch of Ghosts
Comments
:-D