Publisher's Synopsis
I ghost books, biographies, essays and so on for the rich and famous and the not so rich and famous. My name never appears in print. I enjoy my work, I make a good living. One day my agent persuaded me to accept a commission that initially I was reluctant to even consider, as it concerned a deceased author I'd never heard of. I was offered double my usual fee, I accepted. Do a little homework I told myself, it's what you do for a living, how hard can it be? The dead man's past turned out to be curiously strange. During the course of my research I was introduced to Heiko Satsuma, a slim, young lady with a palpable sense of other worldliness about her. When she spoke (I swear to God) her voice was almost choral. The sound entranced me, then suddenly with an abrupt motion she thrust a sheaf of loose pages into my hands, turned and walked away. I never met her again, she simply vanished or so it seemed to me. "Include what she has written in your work," I was told. By the time I completed the commission I realised I was beginning to view the everyday, walk around world, somewhat askance as for the deceased author; his work is fraught with a fine madness: I did the best I could.
