Difference between revisions of "Winter At Blackfont"
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− | [[Category:Category Romance]][[category:1977 Releases]] | + | [[Category:Category Romance]][[category:1977 Releases]][[Category:Romantic Suspense]][[Category:Mystique Books]] |
* '''Author''': [[Caroline Gayet]] | * '''Author''': [[Caroline Gayet]] | ||
* '''Publisher''': [[Mystique|Harlequin Mystique]] [[Mystique By The Numbers|# 11]] | * '''Publisher''': [[Mystique|Harlequin Mystique]] [[Mystique By The Numbers|# 11]] | ||
* '''Year''': 1977 | * '''Year''': 1977 | ||
+ | ==Book Description== | ||
"The curse of Blackfont was waiting for me..." "What plans do you have for Blackfont, now that it's legally yours?" my father asked jovially. "Why, I want you to look after it, of course," I assured him, "just as you always have." Then, shortly after he left for Paris, I received the telegram. I read it with growing horror as the words began to dance in front of my eyes ... my father had met with a tragic accident. With shaking hands I dialed the long-distance operator, a seed of hope burning in my heart. I kept telling myself that my father was still alive. I clung to that belief in desperation. But, I had forgotten the curse of Blackfont! | "The curse of Blackfont was waiting for me..." "What plans do you have for Blackfont, now that it's legally yours?" my father asked jovially. "Why, I want you to look after it, of course," I assured him, "just as you always have." Then, shortly after he left for Paris, I received the telegram. I read it with growing horror as the words began to dance in front of my eyes ... my father had met with a tragic accident. With shaking hands I dialed the long-distance operator, a seed of hope burning in my heart. I kept telling myself that my father was still alive. I clung to that belief in desperation. But, I had forgotten the curse of Blackfont! |
Latest revision as of 15:35, 16 May 2008
- Author: Caroline Gayet
- Publisher: Harlequin Mystique # 11
- Year: 1977
Book Description
"The curse of Blackfont was waiting for me..." "What plans do you have for Blackfont, now that it's legally yours?" my father asked jovially. "Why, I want you to look after it, of course," I assured him, "just as you always have." Then, shortly after he left for Paris, I received the telegram. I read it with growing horror as the words began to dance in front of my eyes ... my father had met with a tragic accident. With shaking hands I dialed the long-distance operator, a seed of hope burning in my heart. I kept telling myself that my father was still alive. I clung to that belief in desperation. But, I had forgotten the curse of Blackfont!