Ah, Carol Ann of the fragile shoulders. One of the book's odder stories, but certainly memorable!
I really wish she'd worked with a ghostwriter (or if she did, a better one)-- the book could have been so much better than it was. Certainly there was no shortage of stories to tell. But instead we got endless descriptions of drippy, melancholic romance.
Stevie'd better get around to writing that autobiography eventually. I'm still waiting for a decent telling of Fleetwood Mac.
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