Postcard from Castle Combe

Castle Combe

The weather here in New York has finally turned cold; autumn’s official arrival announced by the brisk smell of burning leaves in the air. But for some reason I’m dreaming of spring in England, of a little town I wanted to see for research for my novel, and you, pulling my hand and running up and down the streets and alleys so that we could capture every moment in this picturesque place, before finally collapsing into a cozy corner of the local pub for a hot meal.