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This tantalising extract is taken from nan prologue of The Ferryman by Justin Cronin, a subject fabrication caller which is nan first prime for New Scientist's book club
By Justin Cronin
Orion (UK); Ballantine Books (US)
Dawn is breaking erstwhile she creeps from nan house. The aerial is cool and fresh; birds are singing successful nan trees. Everywhere, nan sound of nan sea, nan world’s awesome metronome, beating beneath a velvety entity of diminishing stars. In her ray nightdress, she moves done nan garden. Her gait is not hesitant, simply unhurried, almost fond. How for illustration a shade she must look, this solitary fig floating among nan flower beds, nan burbling fountains, nan hedges trimmed pinch creases crisp capable to tie blood. Behind her, nan location is …
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