de Paul Marlowe
Sobre o livro
...There were more people in the streets, all of them moving toward the lighthouse. Each walked alone, neither speaking to the others nor making any signs of recognition. They simply drifted. Slowly, steadily, inexorably...
Elliott Graven was prepared to be bored by his new town, and prepared to be annoyed by it. After all, it was a run-down fishing village in the back woods, and moving there suddenly had been his father's idea, not Elliott's. But he wasn't prepared for the sleepwalkers. Or the mushrooms. Or the jars of eyes. At least the werewolves seemed to be on his side.