β Scribed by Don Bassingthwaite
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
"THE ONLY PROPER PLACE FOR ICE IS IN A COCKTAIL . . ."
I'm Derby Cavendish --that's pronounced Derby with an "ar" sound, not an "er": remember that for later. Ever since I was a boy, the forces of the otherworldly have been drawn to me like divas to a spotlight. But I'm ready for them. Bring it on, bitches.
He's the reason there are no zombies at Christmas, no fairy magic (the bad kind) at Gay Pride, and no werewolves (except one and he's a dear friend) at Hanukkah. He's Derby Cavendish, and for several years, celebrated author Don Bassingthwaite has been bringing him to life each holiday season.
Now for the first time, these flamboyantly funny, supernaturally saucy stories have been brought together in one fabulous, long-awaited collection. (Fruitcake faddler sold separately.) If you like your chills with giggles and glitter, Cocktails at Seven, Apocalypse at Eight is for you!"
π SIMILAR VOLUMES
\*\*Winner of the 2015 National Book Critics Circle John Leonard Prize "[A] sparkling debut collectionβ¦features dreamers and schemers whose lives pulsate with wild hopes, hard luck, stunning secrets, and saving grace." β*Elle*\*\* With intensity and emotional precision, Kirstin Valdez Quad
On some nights, a snug bedroom is a hard place to fall asleep. On some nights, it's better to get away from slumbering, snoring family members and curl up alone with one's thoughts in the cool night air, under wide-open skies. In this charming bedtime fantasy, a sleepless city girl does just that, f
'A complete page-turner and an emotional rollercoaster. Tissues will be required' Sinead Moriarty 'A wonderfully life-affirming book...Carmel Harrington writes with such honesty' New York Times bestselling author, Hazel Gaynor On a leafy suburban street in Dublin, beautiful, poised Stella Greene liv
Every evening at five o'clock, Christina and Rudy stopped work and began the ritual commonly known as Happy Hour. Rudy mixed Christina's drink with loving precision, the cavalier slosh of Bombay Sapphire over ice shards, before settling across from her in his Stickley chair with his glass of Scotch.
Thursday, 8:00 a.m. Breakfast Club! Every week, these words appear in the calendars of four women. Every week, they meet for breakfast--and to talk.