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In a remote corner of Zangaro, a small republic in Africa, lies Crystal Mountain. At certain times of the day the mountain emits a strange glow. Only Sir James Manson knows why.
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Plot-driven, resolved, cool and unpretentious.
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On Open Library, 7 have read it and 41 want to.
“There were no stars that night on the bush airstrip, nor any moon; just the West African darkness wrapping round the scattered groups like warm, wet velvet.”
British novelist
Closest on the same fourteen dimensions, from everything scored on Taste Buds. Other media included when they land close.