Illiterarty.com Book reviews and blogs by Bridget

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p>I was wearing one oven mitten in a floral print and holding a dishcloth with a picture of a kitten in the other hand, leaning over the oven and pulling out a tray of biscuits when I felt something at my feet.

No. 4, Everywhere st, August 1.

"Breakfast!" Tiff stood at the kitchen sink, wearing a demure floral print sun-dress that came in at the waist and dropped to just below the knee. Wearing light pink slip on sandals that were both comfortable and complimented her outfit.

When the butcher’s wife left the house late one afternoon, he knew something was up.