This afternoon I decided to take the car out for a run. After all, I have it for a week. I might as well make use of it. Inevitably, I went down to Glastonbury, because what’s a neo-pagan girl to do when she’s in need of spiritual renewal? As it turned out, I did more communing with Liz Williams than communing with the spirit world. However, someone must have noticed, because when I asked Liz for books on a particular subject it turned out that she had just what I needed for a story I am writing.
One of the sacred pigeons pooped on the bonnet of my car. You kind of expect that. It is payment.
Along the way I noticed that south of Frome there is a place called Marston Bigot. Really, there is. Google it. It is even in the Domesday Book. So I wondered, is that where that Daily Malice woman lives?