So the hills are on fire

..and the city is shrouded in gloom; outside as you look up the street everything fades to white. I can see little pieces of ash floating in the air and a courier just cycled by wearing a cheap dust mask. I am amused to see the maniacs who go outside to have a cigarette are wreathed in curling smoke; for once not entirely of their making.

The Last Light Of The Sun by Guy Gavriel Kay

No I haven't got it and haven't read it. I'm just mourning the fact I just found out it exists and it's not mine.

Oh anguish.

Oh deprivation.

Oh Guy Gavriel Kay you genius writer of fabulousness.

Which brings me to my second point.. whoever has my copy of The Summer Tree could they please raise their hands slowly and not try anything funny and I'll endeavour to overcome the urge to avenge it's untimely absence.