Excerpt
Spring was just beginning to reveal itself. Everywhere tiny wildflowers were awakening. Foxgloves and delphiniums were rocketing upward from the moist earth to drench themselves in the deliciously warm sunlight. Indeed, it was the perfect day for a drive through the English countryside, the kind of day that inspires the brightest of moods. But the thought of Holmes brought me back from my romance with spring. For if ever there was a potential dark cloud looming on the horizon, it was Holmes. Never have I been more fond of an individual, yet I knew all too well that my arrival with this desperately needy American passenger would set him off like a torrential winter downpour.