Author: | IM Griffin | ISBN: | 9781497702806 |
Publisher: | sea minor | Publication: | June 16, 2013 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | IM Griffin |
ISBN: | 9781497702806 |
Publisher: | sea minor |
Publication: | June 16, 2013 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
‘ Classy writing and a lovely relaxed style.’
Gareth Davies
****
‘Although there are some very light hearted moments in the book, it is a very sad read and I finished reading it with a definite lump in the throat. Highly recommended.’
Elaine G (Top 500 Reviewer)
*****
‘Delightful.’
Boo Radley
*****
‘Really really enjoyable…try the book- it’s unputdownable’
Eva-Nicole
*****
'Last night I dreamt that I was walking along the edge of the River Irwell with my friend Miranda. It was a summer evening and we were laughing and singing our favourite Billy Connolly songs. Miranda had bought a bag of sherbet lemons and we sucked them hard until the sherbet came shooting out of the ends, leaving a hollow sugar shell behind. There was a row of pebble-dash houses, with a man outside one of them painting his fence with creosote. We stopped for a while to inhale the heady chemical smell, the essence of suburban summers.'
A tale of friendship, of growing up and of falling apart.
‘ Classy writing and a lovely relaxed style.’
Gareth Davies
****
‘Although there are some very light hearted moments in the book, it is a very sad read and I finished reading it with a definite lump in the throat. Highly recommended.’
Elaine G (Top 500 Reviewer)
*****
‘Delightful.’
Boo Radley
*****
‘Really really enjoyable…try the book- it’s unputdownable’
Eva-Nicole
*****
'Last night I dreamt that I was walking along the edge of the River Irwell with my friend Miranda. It was a summer evening and we were laughing and singing our favourite Billy Connolly songs. Miranda had bought a bag of sherbet lemons and we sucked them hard until the sherbet came shooting out of the ends, leaving a hollow sugar shell behind. There was a row of pebble-dash houses, with a man outside one of them painting his fence with creosote. We stopped for a while to inhale the heady chemical smell, the essence of suburban summers.'
A tale of friendship, of growing up and of falling apart.