Ferns, and violets, and gorse, paths all lined with soft green moss.

Let them stay, and in a month, your beds will be nothing but strawberries.” Those strawberries will creep, Reynaud, said Narcisse's voice in my mind. That is, if the birds do not steal them first. And besides, in summer, there may be enough of the tiny red berries to put on a tart, or flavor a glassful of sweet white wine. Though more or less worthless in terms of fruit, the little white flowers and pretty leaves make excellent ground count cover, keeping the thistles and ragwort at bay without suppressing my daffodils. Wild strawberries are invasive not quite as invasive as dandelions, but those little heart-shaped leaves conceal a powerful hunger for conquest, sending their runners everywhere, each one an outpost preparing itself for a future invasion.Īnd yet I cannot bring myself, père, to curb their cheery exuberance. Wild ones, seeded from God knows where, poking their pale little fingers among the tulips and crocuses. “There are strawberries growing among my bulbs. ‘Compelling, captivating, incredibly moving, The Strawberry Thief whirls you into a thrilling world you will never forget. ‘I devoured it in one go’ Christopher Fowler The Strawberry Thief is a delight’ James Runcie It will intrigue and charm readers every bit as much as Chocolat‘ Monica Ali

‘A place of magic and mysteries, and Harris excels in this delicate balance of realism and enchantment. Joanne is truly one of the world’s finest storytellers’ Joanna Cannon I sobbed at the end because I couldn’t bear to leave.

‘The most magical, stunningly beautiful novel. ‘A writer whose wit and sharp observation enhances her engaging story-telling’ Salley Vickers The arrival of Narcisse’s relatives, the departure of an old friend and the opening of a mysterious new shop in the place of the florist’s across the square – one that mirrors the chocolaterie, and has a strange appeal of its own – all seem to herald some kind of change: a confrontation, a turbulence – even, perhaps, a murder… Even Reynaud, the priest, has become a friend.īut when old Narcisse, the florist, dies, leaving a parcel of land to Rosette and a written confession to Reynaud, the life of the sleepy village is once more thrown into disarray. With Rosette, her ‘special’ child, she runs her chocolate shop in the square, talks to her friends on the river, is part of the community. Lansquenet-sous-Tannes, the place that once rejected her, has finally become her home. Return to the world of the multi-million-copy bestselling Chocolat…. ‘So wise, so atmospheric, so beautifully written’ Marian Keyes

Joanne harris the strawberry thief