I know it might seem like I am on something of a D.E. Stevenson kick now, but that is because I am! Her books are so utterly charming and just right for the kind of light, late afternoon reading I thoroughly adore.
Like The Times says, she is the Mistress of the light novel and yesterday as I sat in the world’s rosiest socks reading Vittoria Cottage, I found myself smiling at the page, smiling in that you want to live these people’s gentle, domesticated, quietly love-torn lives way, smiling because one of the characters is in a rather hilarious battle with her thyroid (to which I can so relate!) and occasionally smiling because of gorgeous paragraphs like this one…
It was important to Caroline to do things right, to do whatever she did to the best of her ability. she saw beauty in ordinary little things and took pleasure in it (and this was just as well because she had had very little pleasure in her life). She took pleasure in a well-made cake, a smoothly-ironed napkin, a pretty blouse, laundered and pressed; she liked to see the garden well dug, the rich soil brown and gravid; she loved her
flowers. when you are young you are too busy with yourself – so Caroline thought – you haven’t time for ordinary little things, but, when you leave youth behind, your eyes open and you see magic and mystery all around you: magic in the flight of a bird, the shape of a leaf, the bold arch of a bridge against the sky, footsteps at night and a voice calling in the darkness, the moment in a theatre before the curtain rises, the wind in the trees, or (in Winter) an apple-branch clothed with pure white snow and icicles hanging from a stone and sparkling with rainbow colours.
If you haven’t read D.E.Stevenson before (WHAT is wrong with you – she wrote Miss Buncle’s
So might I recommend dedicating your Autumn evenings to D.E.Stevenson? Starting a new season with a new author is one of my most treasured
Currently free on Kindle Unlimited and otherwise available for $3.99 on Amazon.Com and £2.99 for Amazon.Co.Uk. Vittoria Cottage is just our kind of Brocante bliss.