Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from A Midsummer Madness: A Novel
Fox a small place, Western Lodge was one of the most attractive abodes that can be imagined. The house was not old enough to lay claim to antiquity, and yet was sufficiently old to have out lived the aggressiveness of the entirely new. The brick of it - that was red - was mellowed by time and weather, and the creepers which old John Mathurin had planted with a liberal hand as soon as the roof was on the house, had now, in the days of his grandson, covered all the wall from the ground up to the dark - tiled bles, where, indeed, long arms of roses and ofajasmine and clematis clambered in many places right up to the massive chimney stacks that crowned the summit of the structure.
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