By Ellen Block
A mystical novel that unravels one in all life’s maximum mysteries—how to move on after a devastating loss—through the ability of phrases and their skill to heal, to remodel, and to the touch the heart. Luck: an occasion which may be for stable or in poor health, counting on your interpretation. As a lexicographer, Abigail Harker has regularly taken shelter within the which means of phrases. but if destiny erases in a single tragic second what she loves the main, the very foundations of her lifestyles vanish. Abigail retreats to Chapel Isle, a secluded island in North Carolina’s Outer Banks. As caretaker of a run-down lighthouse, she hopes to redefine herself. yet as a resident quickly feedback, “If you got here to Chapel Isle for regular, you got here to the incorrect place.” For on Chapel Isle, nobody might be well outlined. From a systematic genius to the feuding fishermen’s other halves, from a good-looking hothead to the ghost stated to be haunting the lighthouse, everyone seems to be suffering to discover that means the place which means turns out misplaced. And whilst a chain of mysterious crimes moves the island, Abigail unearths that she needs to face down her inner most fears if she is to save lots of herself, her associates, and the hot existence she’s all of sudden come to cherish.
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Extra info for The Language of Sand
To understand the exception was to understand the meaning. As she sat shivering in her car, Abigail chose not to turn on the motor. The posted rule could have been inconsequential. The consequences of breaking it may not have been. Heat or no heat, the seasickness had gotten to her. A cold sweat was slinking along her neck, and her mouth was bone-dry. Abigail hitched her gaze to the bottom of the steering wheel, blocking any movement from her vision. Having set out before daybreak that morning, the journey from Boston had been grueling.
Pretending to be busy, the impish woman fussed with a window that wouldn’t budge. ” “Fine. ” Abigail was fuming. Lottie motioned her over to the far side of the house and through a doorway. ” A stunted alcove passed for that by virtue of having a sink and some appliances. The massive stove and one-door refrigerator were relics. As the house settled, the cupboards had shifted away from one another, giving them the look of gapped teeth. Warped wainscoting covered the lower part of the walls, while outdated floral wallpaper in white and cornflower blue wilted from the top.
She’d spent the better part of her adulthood in pursuit of definitions. To understand the exception was to understand the meaning. As she sat shivering in her car, Abigail chose not to turn on the motor. The posted rule could have been inconsequential. The consequences of breaking it may not have been. Heat or no heat, the seasickness had gotten to her. A cold sweat was slinking along her neck, and her mouth was bone-dry. Abigail hitched her gaze to the bottom of the steering wheel, blocking any movement from her vision.