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More informationSix people sit down to a sumptuous meal at a table laid for seven. In front of the empty place is a sprig of rosemary-"rosemary for remembrance." A strange sentiment considering no one is likely to forget the night, exactly a year ago, that Rosemary Barton died at exactly the same table, her beautiful face unrecognizable, convulsed with pain and horror.
But then Rosemary had always been memorable-she had the ability to arouse strong passions in most people she met. In one case, strong enough to kill. . . .
This title was previously published as Remembered Death.