And that was exactly the kind of man that Larry Croft wanted to work for him. He found him where he said he would be, in a Los Angeles repertory theatrical company with designs on becoming an actor. Larry decided to play it cute.
These are exquisite stories, of beauty and cruelty, of pleasure and pain, of hunger, and of sharp teeth sinking into tender flesh.
As the weeks went on, I found myself more and more often joining Jessie in the back room where she was allowed to spend ten minute coffee and toilet breaks on quiet afternoons, Mrs Campbell minding the till.
From the author of The Trickster, an unnerving tale of latterday alchemy and the horrors brooding beneath the placid surface of life in one small town in America.
“You'll not go jiggy-jogging up the road like what's-his-name, that actor-clown.” “William Kempe, the morris dancer?” offered Anna, stepping into a jig. “I saw him, I did! Bells on his feet! But wasn't it to Norwich he danced?