Books

May 9, 2014 1:00 PM

Tension builds, present to past, in Evie Wyld’s second novel, 'All the Birds, Singing'

A low, steady thrum of dread suffuses Evie Wyld’s second novel, “All the Birds, Singing.” It’s there right from the opening sentence: “Another sheep, mangled and bled out, her innards not yet crusting and the vapours rising from her like a steamed pudding.”

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