FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. “It’s like the Picture and the Bust.
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