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.

Blurb

TWO UNFORGETTABLE STORIES. TWO FAMILIES. TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF HISTORY.

1854: When Mulanyin meets the beautiful Nita in Brisbane – or Edenglassie, as it was once briefly known – his community still outnumbers the British settlers. Tensions are simmering just beneath the surface of a fragile peace, but hopes for independence are running high. Yet when colonial unrest tears through the region, Mulanyin’s passion for his new bride clashes with his loyalty to a homeland in danger.

Two centuries later, fiery activist Winona meets Dr Johnny when her grandmother Eddie has a serious fall. Winona just wants the obstinate centenarian back on her feet, but a shrewd journalist has other ideas. Eddie becomes a local celebrity, dominating the headlines as ‘Queensland’s Oldest Aboriginal’. 

Her time in the spotlight brings past and present crashing together, the legacy of Nita and Mulanyin’s tragic past reaching into Winona and Eddie’s lives with consequences they couldn’t have predicted. 

Review

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

I’m a big fan of a dual timeline novel, and this is one of the best examples of the form that I have read in a while. There’s a cracking ‘present’ storyline set in 2024, full of characters I’d happily follow for a whole book, particularly the fierce, uncompromising Winona, who is an absolutely brilliant creation – I loved her. There is a lot of humour in this section, as well as piercing political commentary, and an insight into modern Australian society that I found fascinating.

As well as all this, the book is also a treat for historical fiction fans, with Mulanyin’s story playing out in a historical context I knew little about. I learned a lot and uncovered even more gaps in my knowledge – Australia isn’t a country whose history I’m particularly familiar with, and this book sent me down a lot of research rabbit holes, which, for me, is part of the joy of this genre. I think the main thing I hadn’t fully grasped before I read Edenglassie was just how thin the line between coexistence and violence can be in a colonial situation, and how an uncertain peace can be just as psychologically damaging as open hostility. The emotional heft of Mulanyin’s story really left an impression on me as a reader, and he’s yet another character from this powerful book who will stay with me. His romance with Nita is portrayed with just the right blend of idealism and practicality – and I defy any reader of their love story not to root for them throughout.

There’s such a skillful balance between all the many threads of this novel – it was no surprise for me to learn that this is Melissa Lucashenko’s seventh novel, such is the deftness of the writing and the elegance of the complex structure – but I’m delighted to find out that there’s so much more by this author for me to enjoy. This is novel writing at its finest: raw, intelligent, real, bringing the secrets of the past into the light of the present – it’s a book that really speaks to the reader, with urgency and eloquence and a sense of challenge.

I thought the way everything came together at the end was so clever – for me, it worked beautifully, and it felt tragic, literary, angry, hopeful, and a bit magical all at once. There’s some serious heft to the writing in this novel, and its one that I will be thinking about for a long time to come. I can’t recommend Edenglassie highly enough – this is an important, urgent, stunning novel.

Edenglassie by Melissa Lucashenko is published by Oneworld and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

For fans of Sebastian Faulks, Donal Ryan and Anne Tyler comes this beautiful novel following two troubled men, separated by nearly a century, bound by the ghosts of their past

When George Allenby is put in charge of building a lake in the grounds of an imposing Irish manor house, he intends to do the job as swiftly as possible and return to Belfast. Allenby is still wrestling with his time as an officer during the First World War, burdened by the many things he could have done differently.

Almost a century later, Alex and Ellie are preparing for their wedding, sparing no expense to hire a venue overlooking the very lake Allenby built all those years ago.

Like Allenby before him, Alex is haunted by decisions he made in the past. Now, with the wedding drawing ever closer, he is at a crossroads. Telling the truth might free him from his guilt; it might also take away everything he cares about, including Ellie. 

In this masterful portrait of love and betrayal, David Park reveals the many ways the past seeps into the present: destructive, formidable, but also hopeful, in the moments of fragile beauty that remain.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review – once again, my apologies for the delay!

Somehow, I have never read any of David Park’s books before now. But I was intrigued by this book just from the title, and when I read the blurb, I knew it was right up my street. Historical fiction with a dash of magical realism is my bag, both as a reader and a writer, and the way the ghosts of the past slip into the present in this novel has given me food for thought for my own work-in-progress, which is always a thrill.

The story centres around a dual timeline narrative: George Allenby constructing a lake at Manor House in the early twentieth century, and Alex and Ellie planning their wedding on the same site nearly a hundred years later. However, there are many other hints and teasers of further stories, as the ghosts teeming around the various settings jostle for position. The theme of buildings, with both Allenby and Alex working in roles related to construction and properties, and the echoes of the lives that have walked through them, is powerfully explored, and there is an atmospheric hum to the narrative that suggests layers of existence piling up on top of each other in an almost archaeological formation.

I really felt for the characters, in all their complex, messy, human knottiness, particularly George, Cora, Alex and Ellie – there is a realism to the portrayal of the two couples at the centre of the book that offsets the more experimental, lyrical ‘ghost’ scenes. And yet in every case it is the past that creeps in: George is haunted by his experiences in the First World War; Alex by a secret he can’t escape from. There’s an ache to the griefs and memories carried by all of the characters, a bruised realness to their secrets and traumas. And yet it is a hopeful novel, too, exploring the power of love and connection.

The story is so carefully constructed, showing incredible skill and poise from the author. In the main narratives, the two love stories that play out across time are brought together in a way that is stunningly beautiful and clever. The prose throughout the book is elegant, precise, melancholic: this is a moving, intelligent, careful exploration of the liminal spaces between human existence. It’s a book that lingers – I will be thinking about it for a long time. I am looking forward to exploring more of David Park’s work now I have finally discovered him, and I highly recommend Ghost Wedding as a great place to start if you’re also new to his books.

Ghost Wedding by David Park is published by Oneworld and is available to purchase here.