Judith Kinghorn's novels
THE ECHO OF TWILIGHT
‘It was a golden evening in August when my mother came untethered. And the river must have shimmered as she walked into it, under it. And the water must have soothed and washed away her pain. And as her life ebbed, before her heart stopped and the high tide carried her upstream, she must have thought of me, surely? For it was the same golden evening I was born…’
From the acclaimed author of The Last Summer, a captivating and moving story of heartbreaking secrets and unwavering devotion set on the eve of the First World War.
THE SNOW GLOBE
‘When Eden Hall was first built, the local newspaper received a number of letters about its electric lights. They were dangerous, too bright and had no place in the country, people wrote. These Londoners should stay in the city if they wanted that sort of thing! A quarter of a century later, and two weeks before Christmas, Eden Hall was once again in the newspaper. This time not because of its size or bright lights, or in fact because of anything to do with it, but because eighteen-year-old Daisy Forbes had joined the nationwide manhunt for missing writer Agatha Christie…’
A story of shifting desires, fortunes and loyalties in the tumultuous years after The Great War.
THE MEMORY OF LOST SENSES
‘Italy was mostly an emotion and the emotion naturally centred in Rome. Rome, before 1870, was seductive beyond resistance. The month of May 1860 was divine… The shadows breathed and glowed, full of soft forms felt by lost senses.’ Henry James
‘If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences.’ Jane Austen, Mansfield Park
An absorbing, evocative and rich period drama of buried secrets and lost love.
THE LAST SUMMER
‘I was almost seventeen when the spell of my childhood was broken. There was no sudden jolt, no immediate awakening, and no alteration as far as I’m aware in the earth’s axis that day. But the vibration of change was upon us and I sensed a shift: a realignment of my trajectory. It was the beginning of summer and, unbeknown to any of us then, the end of a belle époque.’
A sweepingly epic and gloriously intimate story of lost innocence and a powerful, enduring love.