This gorgeous image from dustjacket attic
Elizabeth Carroll’s very lovely, very disturbing “The Duke of Vertumn’s Fingerling” is now available for listenification at Podcastle. Go here and make your ears happy.
After I opened my eyes they dressed me in silk. A bone-white gown slipped over my head and I raised my arms for it like a child. With my hair undone, I must have looked like a bride. I was nothing of the kind.
My gown hung on me like a sugar bag. I stood in scraps and patches of fabric. I bound ribbon around my waist, and crossed it over and over between breast and hip. I would be presentable if nothing else.
I was barely minutes old.