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I just love those little moments of sheer reading pleasure that define for me Italian crime writing.
This example from my reading list last year……….
Carlo Lucarelli’s detective Grazia Nero has just discovered that the man holding her captive has killed 59 people, but……
“He watched as she leaned forward on her hands and knees to get another sandwich from the bag. Chicken and rocket, no. Hardboiled egg and tuna, no. Peppers and prosciutto, yes.”
And another from Andrea Camilleri’s Montalbano in my current read Excursion to Tindari…..
He opened the fridge and let out a whinny of sheer delight.
As a well known gourmet and greedy guts I can appreciate their emotions.
This example from my reading list last year……….
Carlo Lucarelli’s detective Grazia Nero has just discovered that the man holding her captive has killed 59 people, but……
“He watched as she leaned forward on her hands and knees to get another sandwich from the bag. Chicken and rocket, no. Hardboiled egg and tuna, no. Peppers and prosciutto, yes.”
And another from Andrea Camilleri’s Montalbano in my current read Excursion to Tindari…..
He opened the fridge and let out a whinny of sheer delight.
As a well known gourmet and greedy guts I can appreciate their emotions.
