Henry is a great writer. Very rich. A real celebrity. But he has a simple life in the heart of a small town. It is discreet, flees success and simply lives with his wife. Now that's what we believe at first. But Henry has a troubled past. Its mistress his publisher. And above all, he never wrote a line. No, its best-sellers are written by his wife. Which itself wants nothing to success, if not write at night, secretly, but accept, for love, the game of her husband. She is also writing his latest novel. Are only 20 pages. And then she disappears. Brutally.
A damn well put together and original novel, with a rather bland main character who gradually changing face and gives us his secrets.
Small PS:
I do not share the unbridled enthusiasm of these commentators, and I notice that Albin Michel has dented damn well to read this book to as many even before the official release date ... but the book is still good, so I do not râlerai too (except when the comments become toast flowing on dozens of lines: we want to know if the book is good, not if the drive is able to write as much!).
