I clearly have some fluffy element missing from my bloodstream, because I am on week two of reading everything Katie Fforde has ever written and am feeling better for it. My bookclub book has been abandoned in the bottom of my bag. My bedside book has been abandoned just short of the end. The book I ordered from Amazon and couldn't wait to get my hands on has not yet been touched. Instead I am wandering rural England, admiring a world of Agas, Rayburns, lumpy jumpers, amusing cats, disreputable friends and grumpy guys who always turn out all right in the end.
That's the beauty of Katie Fforde. It all turns out all right in the end.
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