
Although reviewers at
The Spectator and the
Mail On Sunday claim that this novel is "sinister and bizarre - not a crime-novel for the faint-hearted" and "dark and compelling, full of perverse sex and violence" respectively, it was the deliciously noir-ish, slightly surreal front cover, with its hint of art nouveau that sucked me in. The gorgeous silver type-face is in slight relief, catching the light like the ripples of a lake on a moonlit night. It looks so good I can't help but feel it might be contraband.
Whether it's a decent book or not is an entirely different matter... but I can always glue it to the wall.
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