Ons logo én onze webshop hebben een make-over gekregen, maar wees gerust: we blijven dezelfde vertrouwde Standaard Boekhandel die je kent en liefhebt.
Nieuwsgierig naar het verhaal achter onze nieuwe stijl?
The Native Tongue
When wine flows tongues wag. Tempers flare. A war of words escalates toward bloody war, resurrecting the sins of the past and threatening to surpass them.
A blind harper; harsh-tongued, hot blooded, bearing a grudge that could spark a war.
A merciless judge; discarded, exiled, determined to see the Queen's law enforced to the letter.
And Daniel Duncanava; dutiful son, faithful servant, loyal subject. A mild man, determined to stop these two jabbering fools. Stop them before their petty squabbling ignites a hidden powder keg that will divide his family, shackle his nation, and ravage the future of the world.
Both Lord Goromond and Sir Moray turned at the sound. I had accidentally armed Peregrine with the steel-stringed harp. That harp was the native harp; it didn't know any of the sounds of polite society. It was a night harp, and the sounds it spoke were the empty spaces between the strings, the silences a Queen's Magistrate was never meant to hear. It was a sharp and dangerous weapon in Peregrine's hands, doubly so now that his madness had surfaced.
—The Native Tongue, by Patrick O'Sullivan
We publiceren alleen reviews die voldoen aan de voorwaarden voor reviews. Bekijk onze voorwaarden voor reviews.
