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The Firebird [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Kearsley, Susanna
  • Author:  Kearsley, Susanna
  • ISBN-10:  140227663X
  • ISBN-10:  140227663X
  • ISBN-13:  9781402276637
  • ISBN-13:  9781402276637
  • Publisher:  Sourcebooks Landmark
  • Publisher:  Sourcebooks Landmark
  • Pages:  544
  • Pages:  544
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-May-2013
  • Pub Date:  01-May-2013
  • SKU:  140227663X-11-MING
  • SKU:  140227663X-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100430124
  • List Price: $18.99
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Oct 28 to Oct 30
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

<p><strong>A <em>New York Times</em>Bestseller!</strong></p><p>"I've loved every one of Susanna's books! She has bedrock research and a butterfly's delicate touch with characters—sure recipe for historical fiction that sucks you in and won't let go!"— <strong>DIANA GABALDON</strong>, #1 <em>New York Times</em>bestselling author of <em>Outlander</em></p><p><strong>Two Women. <br>One Mysterious Relic.<br>Separated By Centuries.</strong></p><p>Nicola Marter was born with a gift so rare and dangerous, she kept it buried deep. When she encounters a desperate woman trying to sell a small wooden carving called "The Firebird," claiming it belonged to Russia's Empress Catherine, it's a problem. There's no proof.</p><p>But Nicola's held the object. She knows the woman is telling the truth. </p><p><strong>Other bestselling books by Susanna Kearsley: <br></strong>The Winter Sea<br>A Desperate Fortune<br>The Rose Garden</p><p><b>Chapter 1</b></p><p>He sent his mind in search of me that morning.</p><p>I was on the Tube, a half a minute out of Holland Park and in that muzzy not-awake-yet state that always bridged the time between my breakfast cup of coffee and the one that I'd have shortly at my desk. I nearly didn't notice when his thoughts touched mine. It was a rare thing these days; rarer still that I would let him in, but my own thoughts were drifting and I knew that his were, too. In fact, from what I saw of where he was-the angle of the ceiling and the dimly shadowed walls-I guessed that he was likely still in bed, just waking up himself.</p><p>I didn't need to push him out. Already he was drawing back, apologizing. Sorry. Not a spoken word, but still I heard the faint regretful tone of his familiar voice. And then he wasn't there.</p>l‡

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