Do you ever get that feeling of mild panic when you near the end of your current book and realise that you have no others awaiting your attention? It may just be me but i suspect others experience it as well. The instinctive urge to flee into the streets clutching a sweaty handful of pound coins and besiege the local bookshops, preferably the charity ones that sell a book for next to nothing.

The dread of having nothing to read was upon me when i found the one last remaining book in the house that i haven't yet read, (not including my wife's Catherine Cookson's and Danielle Steele's) which i'm looking forward to starting when my current book is completed.

Strangely, i have read only one other book in my entire life by this author, Daniel DeFoe, and that was when i was about seven, Robinson Crusoe. This one is the fictional life-story of a very feisty and crafty (often naughty) woman which was dramatised on tv in 1996, i adored the series and swooned like a maiden at Alex Kingston's leading lady, and would love to watch it all over again, Moll Flanders.

I bought the book a few years ago and it has somehow been thus far neglected but i'm keen to get stuck into it now, although i know it will differ greatly from the serialisation, as all books do, especially as it was written back in 1722. The nights will soon be drawing in and i'll find myself snuggled up with Moll for company, an ideal companion for any long wintry evening.

The fortunes and misfortunes of the famous Moll Flanders, who was born in Newgate and during a life of continu'd variety for threescore years besides her childhood, was twelve year a whore, five times a wife (whereof once to her own brother) twelve year a thief, eight year a transported felon in Virginia, at last grew rich, liv'd honest and died a penitent. Written from her own memorandums.
mollflanders
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