Blurb

Devi is a fighter. Growing up in the slums of Delhi, she has learnt that survival comes at a cost – and naturally, that means she’s made a few enemies along the way.

Now she’s being held captive, her life up for sale in an online auction, where the highest bidder will determine her fate.

With her existence hanging in the balance, Devi proceeds to give her captor ‘a confession to beat all confessions’ – as over the course of a single night, Devi unveils the secrets of her seven extraordinary lives.

Devi is the ultimate survivor – a girl from the gutters who dares to rewrite her own destiny. But will she survive the longest night of her life?

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. Apologies for the lateness – I got struck down by my first ever migraine (0/10, do not recommend) and am still in catch-up mode!

I was really intrigued by this book for several reasons: I loved Slumdog Millionaire when I watched it many years ago; I don’t read enough books set in India, despite a long-standing fascination with the country; and finally, the premise sounded delicious – a high-stakes, high concept story with a punchy structure and a strong female protagonist. Lots of boxes ticked!

The structure definitely propels the story along. During her night of captivity, with her life on the line, we dip in and out of her terrifying ‘present’ to revisit the past alongside her as she narrates the journey she has taken and the various personas she has adopted along the way. It is a simple but effective way of building a powerful narrative arc in which everything leads up to the climactic moment when past meets present and Devi faces her final reckoning, and the ‘episodes’ of her life are neatly punctuated with reminders of the peril she currently finds herself in, ensuring the tension remains high throughout the book. I found this to be an exciting, dramatic read that kept me up turning pages.

Swarup’s work is ripe for film and TV adaptation, as has been proven, and this latest book is no exception. There’s a cinematic quality to the story, and the frenetic pace and constant twists and turns are perfectly calculated to engage an audience and provide plenty of ‘gasp’ moments. For me personally, I think this plot-heavy approach made it harder for me to engage with Devi as much as I wanted – there are elements of progression and development in her character, but because so much of what happens to her seems to be spun around moments of incredibly great or bad fortune, with deus ex machina-types swooping in to save the day, and ‘goodies’ revealing their treacherous nature, I couldn’t get a grip on what was happening internally in terms of her moral compass and the lessons she learns along the way. But that’s a personal preference – and perhaps part of the point of Devi is that she is so slippery, so hard to pin down – indeed, we meet seven whole different versions of her! For readers who prefer their novels more character-driven, there may be less here to enjoy – but everything is subjective and opinions will surely vary! I’m really glad I read this book, as I think it shines a light on some shocking but sadly still prevalent attitudes and practises, and although the violence is a lot to take, I don’t think it tips into gratuitousness – it’s making an important point, and drives home the horrific treatment women in Devi’s situation often encounter in real life.

If you are a fan of fast-paced, dramatic, twisty books with a compelling setting, books which aren’t afraid to stare the seamy, violent underpinnings of so-called civilised society in the face, books which refuse to take a naive approach to right and wrong but which understand the nuances of survival, then Devi’s story (or seven stories!) will absolutely be for you.

The Girl with the Seven Lives by Vikas Swarup is published by Bloomsbury and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

Clara and Seb are about to fall in love.
They don’t know it yet.
But everybody else does.

When Clara and Seb meet in a quiet corner of London, it’s the start of something. She wants to be a director. He’s an actor, unsure what he wants from life.

Their connection is magnetic. Everyone can see that falling in love looks something like this. But when Clara casts Seb in the film that will make her name, what should be the happiest time of their lives ends with a gut-wrenching betrayal.

Some love stories are bigger than just two people. This one is told through the eyes of friends, flatmates, exes and strangers who see all the sides of Seb and Clara, from their first date to the moment they fell apart.

Everyone has their version of events. But only Clara and Seb can decide how their story ends…

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and to the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a proof copy of Main Characters in exchange for an honest review.

I’d heard great things about Bobby Palmer’s writing, but this is the first novel of his that I have read. I was so intrigued by the premise: a love story told through the eyes of everyone apart from the couple themselves – I think it works out as about 80 different points of view, which makes my editor heart contract in panic! I have to admit, it took me a little while to get into the book – the chopping and changing of perspective initially felt disorientating, and I wasn’t sure this was going to be for me.

However, the further I got, the more I became hooked not only on Clara and Seb’s dramatic, angst-ridden relationship but on the roving point of view that spotlights hidden corners of the story in so many different and clever ways. Choosing the film industry as a key setting is a stroke of genuis, as we get literal behind-the-scenes glimpses of the glamour, chaos, and pressure that becomes a catalyst for the relationship’s implosion. We get the viewpoint of everyone from makeup artists to investors, with some sections brilliantly mimicking the gossipy nature of celebrity culture, the way things get twisted, the fact that everyone feels they have to right to comment and (mis)interpret.

That is only one aspect of this mult-faceted novel – we also get the gradual emergence of the friends and family that surround the couple, and there’s something so beautiful about the way these characters come into focus, become more and more nuanced and developed, until we’re rewarded with their point of view chapters in amongst the more anonymous passers by and casual observers. I was stunned how deeply I came to care for characters such as Nimesh, Maisie, and Augie – characters we see slantwise at first, but who slowly reveal their humanity in all its messy beauty. As we get towards the end of the novel, there are some proper emotional punches, some of them only tangentially involving the main characters themselves. It’s really clever, and I’d need to reread to properly figure out how Palmer manages to build up so much emotion from a structure that initially seems constraining and artificial.

If you like your romances raw, poignant, and gut-wrenching, you’ll love Main Characters. Palmer has set himself a real challenge with this structure, but he rises to it with aplomb, and what starts out feeling a little like a gimmick becomes a showcase for a truly talented author creating an unforgettable love story, on a parr with David Nicholls’ One Day. I’m very keen to read more of Bobby Palmer’s work – I’ll be getting hold of his previous books asap.

Main Characters by Bobby Palmer is published by Headline and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

Sika’s holiday to Ghana is the trip of a lifetime, until she uncovers a family secret that changes her life…

When Sika is invited to a lavish family party in Accra, she jumps at the chance. Her life might be in London – with a high-powered job, demanding boss and intense friendships – but she’s itching to get to know her cousins, aunts and uncles, and explore the country her mother left just after Sika was born. 

The holiday is better than she could have imagined, especially when handsome, charismatic Danso steps onto the scene. But on the night of the big party, as her happiness soars, Sika discovers a dark secret that will change everything – for everyone – forever. 

From an award-winning writer, Sister of Mine is a poignant and heartfelt novel about family ties, family lies and the truths we withhold to protect the ones we love. 

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the Squadpod for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

From the extraordinary prologue, which focuses in on the not-so-humble mosquito, to the opening chapters which follow and immerse the reader in Sika’s first impressions of Ghana, this book had me in its thrall right from the start. It sets up the idea that Sika and her mother’s ‘homecoming’ will provide answers while introducing us to characters we warm to immediately – this is a book that steals your heart right away.

The protagonist, Sika, is a deeply engaging character – I adored how seamlessly she falls in love with Ghana and her newly-met family members. The bond she forms straightaway with her little cousin Loli is just beautiful, and the way each reunion feels like the unearthing of a memory embedded in her history is really clever and emotional. There are some great moments in the plot, such as when Sika attends a church service with her Auntie Edem and has an encounter with the somewhat sinister Prophet, and the preparations for Auntie Larjey and Uncle Papa’s party provide a good through-line and focus as we build to the climax of the story. The twists and turns of this novel had me in pieces – I really wasn’t expecting the story to go where it did towards the end, and it’s just so devastating – but the writing is brilliant and does justice to the dark places the story travels to.

There is a power and momentum behind Amuah’s writing which is both profound and entertaining. The author has such a unique way of melding humour with more serious moments – it feels like a reflection of the open-heartedness of many of the characters, in which joy and sorrow can coexist, and strong emotions are not something to fear. There’s a real sense of so much of human experience and emotional range being packed into this book – it really does feel like a journey for the reader as much as for the characters.

I’m in awe of the skill it takes to produce a story that wears its complexity and richness so lightly, that delves into so many different experiences but never feels like a ‘heavy read’ – there’s a kind of magic in writing that can achieve this, and I’m blown away by Marie Claire-Amuah’s storytelling. I can’t recommend this book highly enough, and I’ll be seeking out her debut, One for Sorrow, Two for Joy, which won the Diverse Book Award in 2023, as well as anything and everything she writes in the future.

Sister of Mine by Marie-Claire Amuah is published by Oneworld and is available to preorder here.

Blurb

London, 1990. Zivoin is newly arrived in a strange country. The dependable oldest son, he works all hours of the day and night, sending every penny he can save back to his family. On the news, he watches his homeland, Yugoslavia, slowly fracturing.

Thousands of miles away, in the tropical heat of Uberlândia, Brazil, Alegria prepares to leave behind the country – and the family – she loves dearly. Bright and ambitious, she strives to give her parents the life they deserve, even if it takes her far from them.

A chance meeting throws Alegria and Zivoin together – and for a brief moment, they feel at home. But their journey is just beginning, and what follows will draw them irresistibly across countries and continents, leaving them both forever changed.

The powerful, exhilarating debut novel from an award-winning new voice in fiction, Strangerland is a heartfelt testament to the endurance that has come to define a generation of immigrants. Above all, it is a soaring, emotionally rich story about the power of love to transcend languages, borders and time.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with an advance copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

I was really excited to get my hands on Monika Radojevic’s debut novel, having absolutely loved her short story collection A Beautiful Lack of Consequence, which was published last year. In the short stories, Radojevic’s style is sharp, incisive, experimental, and fiercely feminist, and I felt very much in safe hands as I started reading Strangerland.

The vibe here is slightly different, softened by the beautiful romance at the heart of the novel, but the prose is just as crisp and clever as I was hoping for. It’s writing that carries the reader along, shuts out the world outside, and transports us to the time and place where the characters’ dramas play out – the early 1990s setting and the movement between London, Brazil and Yugoslavia is compelling and absorbing. The main characters, Alegria and Zivoin, based on the author’s own parents, are hugely sympathetic and engaging, and their love story is enough to melt even the most cynical heart. Their attraction to each other and the strength of their feelings as they tentatively begin their relationship really does make you believe in true love.

One thing (among many) that the book does really well is to conjure up the logistical difficulties of moving between countries not only as an immigrant who fears being denied entry, but in the era before mobile phones – so many times in the story, pre-arranged meetings fall through, plans are disrupted and contingencies have to be made, and the characters have to display a resourcefulness that I’m not sure we can fully appreciate or remember nowadays! It creates some very strong moments of tension, and really makes you feel for the characters and the hurdles they have to overcome just to be given a chance at happiness.

I actually found it really refreshing to read a book about two such ‘good’ people. There is a lot of brilliant and very important context in the book about the barriers that immigrants face, the casual but brutal racism encountered every day, the relentlessness of financial constraints and the horrors of encroaching war, but the overall feeling I came away with was one of optimism in spite of it all, a renewed belief that there ARE decent human beings in the world, who deserve good things. And I think we all need that reminder these days! I won’t spoil the ending except to say that initially it surprised me, but when I reflected back, it fitted perfectly, and encompasses all the hope that I think this book offers up, despite the odds. After reading Strangerland, I’m a bigger fan of Monika Radojevic’s writing than ever, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Strangerland by Monika Radojevic is out now with Merky Books and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

Introducing an outstanding new voice in literary fiction: a sensual, sharp, and utterly compelling campus novel about grief, reinvention, and the ripple effects of telling lies

If I ever woke up with an ungodly dread — that I could change it all now, turn around, and confess — I ignored it. I had never been good, and there was no point in trying now.

On a small liberal arts campus in upstate New York, Charlotte begins her final year with a lie. Her father died over the summer, she says. Heart attack. Very sudden.

Charlotte had never been close with her classmates but as she repeats her tale, their expressions soften into kindness. And so she learns there are things worth lying for: attention, affection, and, as she embarks on a relationship with fellow student Katarina, even love. All she needs to do is keep control of the threads that hold her lie – and her life – together.

But six thousand miles away, alone in the grey two-up-two-down Staffordshire terrace she grew up in, her father is very much alive, watching television and drinking beer. Charlotte has always kept difficult truths at arm’s length, but his resolve to visit his distant daughter might just be the one thing she can’t control.

Review

I was lucky enough to receive a proof copy of Blank Canvas in exchange for an honest review – many thanks to the publisher and to the lovely Squadpod.

I really like the bold premise of this book: a lie that takes hold and can’t be undone, told by a protagonist who at first doesn’t give a shit about consequences or emotionally manipulating people – in fact, she doesn’t give a shit about anything much at all. So who cares if she lies to her fellow students and says that her Dad is dead – they’re in America, her family is from the UK, no one will ever know…

Charlotte’s detached, almost emotionless narration is oddly mesmerising right from start, and of course we wonder why she’s decided to spin this tragic yarn, but the story really takes off when she accidentally falls in love (or something like it) with Katarina, and suddenly she’s in too deep to confess to her lie. Suddenly, the consequences matter. It’s a simple but stunningly effective transition, and the book does such a good job of evoking the awful power of our actions, the way our mistakes shape our development, both positively and negatively, and the frankly brutal period of self-discovery that takes place in our early 20s. This novel goes straight for the jugular – it’s stark and shocking and never shies away from the cruel complexities of human nature – but it does also have a heart, and I surprised myself by how much I felt for these fierce, lost characters trying to figure out who they are.

There’s a location shift to Italy that somehow softens the story, at least at first – the idyllic descriptions have an almost Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead-esque quality, a sun-soaked interlude before Charlotte’s house of cards comes crashing down. It’s a really clever tone-change, and it adds another dimension to an already nuanced story. It takes the book beyond ‘campus novel’ territory and gives a glimpse of how rich and wide this author’s skillset is.

The prose is sharp and fresh throughout the novel; the writing gets under your skin and pulls you into the story in a way that makes for a compelling reading experience. I devoured this book in a few delicious gulps, not wanting to tear myself away from the tantalising spikes of Charlotte’s narrative. Blank Canvas reminded me of books by writers such as Chloe Ashby (particularly her first novel, Wet Paint), and Madeleine Gray, but it also feels excitingly original. I’d definitely read more by this author, and I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next!

Blank Canvas by Grace Murray is published by Penguin Fig Tree and is available to purchase here.