"Write on creatures for the Prophet," Kieran said with a wry smile; he placed his hands into the pocket of his jacket for want of something to do with them. Kieran hadn't expected the woman to talk to him for this long; she had a middle class look about her, and many middle class women tended to think scrawny-looking men in overworn coats were better not to be conversed with. Not all of them, of course - but many.
Still, they were chatting, and Kieran had nothing better to do here if there wasn't an author event for the book. "So maybe take my recommendation with a grain of salt, I'm not an academic."
Still, they were chatting, and Kieran had nothing better to do here if there wasn't an author event for the book. "So maybe take my recommendation with a grain of salt, I'm not an academic."