Morgan Mead

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Poe leaned against my leg as I picked at the bread and began to tell me all about the improvements he had been making to his home, dwelling at great length on his gratitude to Wendell as well as the compliments of sundry Folk who, according to Poe, were forever coming round to gawk at his tree’s splendor. “I would not mind,” he said. “For my mother always said: ‘A guest is a gift, little one,’ but I wonder if the same is true of many guests, who arrive at all hours, and sometimes make such a noise that my lady cannot sleep through the night? But I do not wish to offend. Last night I baked ...more
Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands (Emily Wilde, #2)
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