By Benjamin Wood
The mesmerisingnew novel from the acclaimed writer of The Bellwether Revivals: a wealthy and immersive tale of affection, obsession, creativity and disintegration.
On a forestedisland off the coast of Istanbul stands Portmantle, a gated shelter for beleaguered artists. There, a curious meeting of painters, architects, writers and musicians attempt to revive their light talents.
Elspeth 'Knell' Conroy is a celebrated painter who has misplaced religion in her abilityand fled the dizzying paintings scene of Sixties London. at the island, she spends her nights locked in her blacked-out studio, checking out an odd new pigment for her elusive masterpiece.
But while a disaffected teen named Fullerton arrives on the shelter, he disrupts its proven workouts. he's affected by a routine nightmare that steers him into possibility, and Knell is left to select aside the chilling mystery.
Where did the boy come from, what's 'The Ecliptic', and the way does itrelate to their deserted lives in England?
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Additional resources for The Ecliptic
Holding on for her life, before it slipped away entirely, in falls and headaches and the horrifying sense of sliding away into insanity. All the bad things simply . . stopped. Her taut muscles loosened, her eyes closed, her nose was buried in a sweater that smelled of fabric softener and man, with a faint tang of smoke. She was being held tightly, engulfed in strong arms and warmth and her mind simply blanked. She was so used to the background buzz of anxiety and fear in her head, a constant hiss of static tinged with darkness, that she simply blissed out at its absence.
Interested. ” It had been so long since she‟d felt anything like this, since she‟d been part of that whole manwoman thing. Her only contact with men over the past nine months had been with doctors and physical therapists, then lawyers as she settled her father‟s estate. She‟d nearly forgotten that she was a woman. Daniel Weston made her feel female once again. She felt a connection to him and even though it was probably a sign of her craziness, because the connection was in her dreams, right at this moment she didn‟t feel cold and alone and listless, which had been her default emotional setting for more time than she cared to think about.
He touched his baseball cap with his index finger in a salute, then took off with a squeal of t ires, leaving her completely alone on the deserted street. The trip had been such a nightmare. She‟d regretted it the moment she‟d left the house in the pouring rain. The taxi had got caught in a jam due to the sudden downpour, tipping her out at departures barely in time to make it to the gate. Two huge Airbuses were boarding and the gates were crowded with far more passengers than the relatively small Tampa airport was equipped to handle.