Londa K. (gmcwife) reviewed on 12/27/2006 + 76 more book reviews

From Carlisle Stree, the childrens voices call. Their strange eyes stare through the tall grass in the middle of a country field. In darkened air beneath a bright blue sky, their desolate mothers scream falls into silence. Beside an unseen lamppost, among the darkening trees a gentle killer, smelling of cloves, waits to repeat, I love you. Carlisle Streets people want. They need. They're here. Now.

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