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The Barter
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by Siobhan Adcock (Goodreads Author)
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Right Ho, Jeeves
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The Glass Sentence
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by S.E. Grove (Goodreads Author)
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Emily Heath wants to read
Sherwood Nation by Benjamin Parzybok
Sherwood Nation
by Benjamin Parzybok (Goodreads Author)
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Emily Heath rated a book 1 of 5 stars
You Should Have Known by Jean Hanff Korelitz
You Should Have Known
by Jean Hanff Korelitz (Goodreads Author)
read in September, 2014
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I kind of want to write a ranty screed about why this is a deeply weird and in many ways terrible novel, but that would mean wasting more time on it than the four hours or so I actually spent reading it.

I will say, though, that the long and detailed...more
Emily Heath wants to read
The Zookeeper's Wife by Diane Ackerman
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The Barter by Siobhan Adcock
The Barter
by Siobhan Adcock (Goodreads Author)
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His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik
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A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth
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Emily Heath is currently reading
Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse
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Emily Heath is currently reading
The Glass Sentence by S.E. Grove
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Front and Center by Catherine Gilbert Murdock
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I liked this one a little bit less than I liked the other two in the series, but I still enjoyed it a lot. Murdock does a great job with D.J.'s voice, in all three volumes - it's very tough, I think, to give an insecure teenager a first-person narrat...more
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Patrick O'Brian
“The weather had freshened almost to coldness, for the wind was coming more easterly, from the chilly currents between Tristan and the Cape; the sloth was amazed by the change; it shunned the deck and spent its time below. Jack was in his cabin, pricking the chart with less satisfaction than he could have wished: progress, slow, serious trouble with the mainmast-- unaccountable headwinds by night-- and sipping a glass of grog; Stephen was in the mizentop, teaching Bonden to write and scanning the sea for his first albatross. The sloth sneezed, and looking up, Jack caught its gaze fixed upon him; its inverted face had an expression of anxiety and concern. 'Try a piece of this, old cock,' he said, dipping his cake in the grog and proffering the sop. 'It might put a little heart into you.' The sloth sighed, closed its eyes, but gently absorbed the piece, and sighed again.

Some minutes later he felt a touch upon his knee: the sloth had silently climbed down and it was standing there, its beady eyes looking up into his face, bright with expectation. More cake, more grog: growing confidence and esteem. After this, as soon as the drum had beat the retreat, the sloth would meet him, hurrying toward the door on its uneven legs: it was given its own bowl, and it would grip it with its claws, lowering its round face into it and pursing its lips to drink (its tongue was too short to lap). Sometimes it went to sleep in this position, bowed over the emptiness.

'In this bucket,' said Stephen, walking into the cabin, 'in this small half-bucket, now, I have the population of Dublin, London, and Paris combined: these animalculae-- what is the matter with the sloth?' It was curled on Jack's knee, breathing heavily: its bowl and Jack's glass stood empty on the table. Stephen picked it up, peered into its affable bleary face, shook it, and hung it upon its rope. It seized hold with one fore and one hind foot, letting the others dangle limp, and went to sleep.

Stephen looked sharply round, saw the decanter, smelt to the sloth, and cried, 'Jack, you have debauched my sloth.”
Patrick O'Brian, H.M.S. Surprise

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correct:
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