Rosie Thomas

Sun at Midnight

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The acclaimed author of Bad Girls, Good Women delivers an epic and adventurous love story set against the stunning backdrop of Antarctica.
Alice Peel is a geologist. She believes in observation, measurement, and proof. But now, as she stands alone on the deck of a rickety Chilean ship, everything that lies ahead is mysterious and unpredictable. Six weeks earlier, her life at Oxford had been reassuringly comfortable. But when her relationship suddenly fell to pieces, she accepted a job that would take her to the end of the earth, joining the Kandahar Research Station in Antarctica.
When she arrives, Alice discovers an ice-blue world lit by a midnight sun. Nothing has prepared her for the beauty of it—or the claustrophobia of a tiny base shared with eight men and one other woman. The isolation wipes out everyone’s past, and tension crackles in the air. One fellow researcher, James Rooker, is especially secretive. Yet Alice cannot deny the bolt of recognition between them. But Antarctica is a place of danger as well as beauty, and Alice is about to make a discovery that could change her life forever . . . if she survives.
“Illuminating yet quietly revealing, Thomas’s latest is elevated by its unique setting and its strong characterization.” —Publishers Weekly
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530 trykte sider
Oprindeligt udgivet
2017
Udgivelsesår
2017
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Vurderinger

  • Cris Lohar delt en vurderingfor 5 år siden
    👍Værd at læse
    🔮Overraskende
    💡Lærerig
    🎯Læseværdig

    This is my first book, on Antarctica. Beautifully written. Makes you wonder about the life on the floating ice-sheets.

Citater

  • Cris Lohar citeretfor 3 år siden
    There was a stone jetty with boats moored along its length, a converted boathouse calling itself the Coffee Plantation and sunlight winking on the water.
  • Cris Lohar citeretfor 3 år siden
    They walked on, through the tunnel of trees. When she lifted her head, Alice saw jigsaw pieces of blue sky between the leaves.
  • Cris Lohar citeretfor 3 år siden
    She felt as if the tendrils of familiarity were reaching out and wrapping round her ankles and calves, like vines, growing and thickening and anchoring her in this place that had once been hers and no longer was. Trapping her.

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