There’s one door into life; many hundreds by which to leave it.
Some of which are in this book, where storms rage, seas tower into wave-whipped maelstroms, mountains are tempest-battered and blizzard-driven. Just when you think you’re safe, the Running Wolf comes racing in from sea to land to blind you in its maw.
Enter the Pfiffmaklers, a travelling theatre troupe, who encounter a maker of phantoms; a disgraced archaeologist branded a saboteur; a man so fixated on nationalistic pride in his history he will go to any lengths to protect it.
And so the stage is set. There’s a Wind Museum, there’s a ruined chapel in the hills; there’s chalk cliffs and lighthouses.
What follows is an intricate plot fuelled by suddenvdramatic scenes and eruptive violence.
It’s 1852, and the storm is about to begin...
Genre: Sagas
Some of which are in this book, where storms rage, seas tower into wave-whipped maelstroms, mountains are tempest-battered and blizzard-driven. Just when you think you’re safe, the Running Wolf comes racing in from sea to land to blind you in its maw.
Enter the Pfiffmaklers, a travelling theatre troupe, who encounter a maker of phantoms; a disgraced archaeologist branded a saboteur; a man so fixated on nationalistic pride in his history he will go to any lengths to protect it.
And so the stage is set. There’s a Wind Museum, there’s a ruined chapel in the hills; there’s chalk cliffs and lighthouses.
What follows is an intricate plot fuelled by suddenvdramatic scenes and eruptive violence.
It’s 1852, and the storm is about to begin...
Genre: Sagas
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