If ever there was a novel to which that old adage about not judging a book by its cover could be applied, it’s this one.
If ever there was a novel to which that old adage about not judging a book by its cover could be applied, it’s this one. What you’d expect, picking up Lisa Hilton’s The House with Blue Shutters and seeing, on the front, a nondescript young woman contemplating a blue-shuttered house, is romantic fiction.
Disagree with half of it, enjoy reading all of it
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