title: All the Birds, Singing: A Novel
author:  Evie Wyld 
description: Jake Whyte, the female protagonist in Wylds riveting second novel (following After the Fire, a Still Small Voice, 2009), lives alone on a bleak island off the British coast. A sheep farmer, Jake finds that her primary companion is her dog, named simply Dog. Trouble arises when someone, or something, begins killing Jakes sheep one by one. At first, Jake suspects local teenagers or a wild animal, but it quickly becomes clear that the entity, real or imagined, is far more mysterious. Jakes vivid tale unfolds in a double narrative. As events in her life on the island move forward chronologically, episodes from her prior life are revealed in reverse, incrementally uncovering the menacing details of her past. These include the time she spent working as a shearer at a sheep station in western Australia, a harrowing turn as a prostitute, and the traumatic events that lie at the root of Jakes perpetual transience and isolation. Jake is both haunted by the past and struggling with the present, and the intensity of Wylds sharp novel grows as the two threaten to collide. --Leah Strauss
zlib_text: The Eagle And The Nightingales
  
    
  
  Bardic Voices 03
  
    
  
  By Mercedes Lackey
  
    
  
  copyright 1995
  
    
  
  (version 2.0 minor formatting revisions)
  
    
  
   _Dedicated to_
  
    
  
  Gail Gallano,
  
    
  
  Mother of all Tulsa wildlife rehabbers!
  
   **CHAPTER ONE**
  
   _All the world comes to Kingsford Faire, the Midsummer Faire of Kings…._
  
  A Gypsy known only as Nightingale sat on a riverside rock on the edge of the
  Faire grounds, with the tune of “Faire of the Kings” running through her head.
  Not that she liked that particular piece of doggerel, but it did have one of
  those annoying tunes that would stick in one’s mind for hours or days.
  
  A light mist hung over the Kanar River, and a meadowlark nearby added his song
  to the growing chorus of birds singing from every tree and bush along the
  riverbank. The morning air was still, cool, and smelled of river water with a
  faint addition of smoke. Sunlight touched the pounded earth that lately had
  held a small city made of tents and temporary booths, then gilded 