The Pale Ones

Viac o knihe

Pulped fiction just got a whole lot scarier…Few books ever become loved. Most linger on undead, their sallow pages labyrinths of old, brittle stories and screeds of forgotten knowledge. And other things besides...Paper-pale forms that rustle softly through their leaves. Ink-dark shapes swarming in shadow beneath faded type. And an invitation...Harris delights in collecting the unloved. He wonders if you'd care to to donate. A small something for the odd, pale children no-one has seen. An old book, perchance? Neat is sweet; battered is better.Broken spine or torn binding, stained or scarred—ugly doesn't matter. Not a jot. And if you’ve left a little of yourself between the pages—a receipt or ticket, a mislaid letter, a scrawled note or number—that’s just perfect. He might call on you again. Hangover Square meets Naked Lunch through the lens of a classic M.R. James ghost story. To hell and back again (and again) via Whitby, Scarborough and the Yorkshire Moors. Enjoy your Mobius-trip.