Books You Are Reading...

http://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2012/04/understanding-amazons-strategy.html

Such a good article.

 

Ended up finishing World Without End by Ken Follett in about a week. I was absolutely hooked to that. Similarly hooked to The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon.

Cheers Dougy and Astele

 

Seedy Pulp fiction can be so good sometimes.

“There’s a burglar downstairs,” Ann Fortune said.
“A burglar?” William Crane sat up in the colonial four-poster, blinked his eyes in the light. “A burglar?”
“He didn’t send up a card,” Ann said.
Crane modestly pulled the patchwork quilt about him. “Let him burgle.” Ash-gray, like cigarette smoke, his breath hung in the air. “It isn’t our house.”
“Everyone thinks it is.”
“Do we care what a burglar thinks?”
“Yes.” She tried not to smile, but her sea-green eyes crinkled at the corners. “You have to go down and shoot him.”
“Oh, very well,” he said. “I’ll go down and shoot him in the leg.”
He swung his feet over the side of the bed. The air was very cold near the floor. He put his feet back under the covers.
She watched from the bedroom door. “Well?”
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“Aren’t you going to shoot him?”
“Beautiful, blonde… and bloodthirsty!”
“Not so loud. You’ll frighten him.”
“I hope I do.”
“You’re a fine, brave detective. I thought — ” She hesitated for a halved second. “Hear him?”
There was a tinkling noise downstairs. A breath of November wind, rustling the shades, momentarily silenced it; then, in a lull, they heard it again. Crane was favorably impressed.
“I think he’s pouring a drink.”
“He’s in the living room,” Ann said.
“He could pour a drink in the living room, couldn’t he?”
A Nile-green robe, drawn close, revealed her slender figure. “Bill!” Her hair was as pale as Manila rope. “As head of this household, it’s your duty…”
“All right,” he said hastily. “But I’m inexperienced with burglars.”
“Now’s your chance to learn.”
“What a wife you’ll make some guy.” He shuddered as his feet touched the floor. “It’s cold, too.”
“In the eyes of the world, I am your wife.”
“Not in the eyes of God… yet.”
“And never,” she said. “Hurry up.”
“I think he’s gone.”
“No.”
He put on slippers and a Scotch-plaid dressing gown. He took a police.38 out of a pigskin zipper bag. “If I’m killed you’ll have me on your conscience.”
She said, “It won’t be much of a load.”

Later, after they have familiarised themselves with the accidental 'burglar'....

Peter March said he’d have a small one. They all had a small one. Then March looked at his wrist watch. “I’ve got to go.” He shook Ann’s hand; an unnecessary gesture, Crane thought. “This is the nicest burglary I’ve ever committed,” he told her.
“Please break in again,” Ann said.
Crane said, “Our front door is always locked to you.”