Alexandra finds out on her birthday that her best friend has been having an affair with her fiancé.  Never mind.  She works at dating agency for psychopaths, the kind of thing that is a niche job, but could be an even bigger one due to company expansion.  Can she get the job, find true love and escape a dark past?  

If the book sounds original, you’d be surprised.  It’s nothing new.  It’s what I would call a gearshifter, where the genre changes in the course of the narrative.  There have been books in more recent years that have done it. And here, it alternates between being a fluffy romantic book (dates, breakups and cupcakes) with a dark romance (a murder where someone proves their love by literally giving someone their heart).  

Sadly, the jarring shift in tone doesn’t fit.  It’s not romantic enough, the darkness overwhelms the fluff.  The concept of romance/serial killing has been done much better in another book earlier this year.  The author of which is listed on the book’s blurb.   I’ll leave you to discover which one.  This is published by Orion on 17th July and I thank them for a preview copy.  #matchmakingforpsyschopaths.  

 Getting Away by Kate Sawyer:

It was a blog post that sent me to Kate Sawyer’s first novel The Stranding.  It made me cry and then she did it again with her second This Family.  Her third is the lives, loves, tragedies and ceremony of a family over almost a century, viewed through the prism of holidays. And yes it made me cry.  Again.  

In other hands, this could be dismissed as pile of romantic fluff.  But as she is a writer that has shown progression with every novel, so let’s not even go there.  This a beach of a novel that has the carefree style of a Summer read, but tread carefully - you might step on some glass.  

If you’ve read her previous work, you’ll know she’s fantastic with structure - The Standing flashed back and forward to pre/post apocalyptic times, This Family had what looked like a prefect family with tragedy holding them together, pushing them forward.  This has the family moving through history, with events breadcrumbed, reinterpreted, hinted at.  She’s excellent at characters, even the worst ones in this book.  

Underlying it though is a novelist who is hopeful about humanity.  And at a time in history when we need reassurance that human decency and happiness will win out, that is to be celebrated.  It’s published by Zaffre on July 3rd and I thank them for a preview copy.  #gettingaway.

Human Rites by Juno Dawson:

I’ve been looking forward to this book since last year.  Queen B felt like a sidestep (Anne Boleyn as the first witch) and at just under 200 pages, it felt more of snack.  Human Rites is the banquet you need, a dark Summer read for a dark Summer’s day.  

If you’ve not read the first two, do that first.  Those of us that have, can enjoy the climax hinted it in the end of the last book: Satan rises and only our band of witches can stop it.  And, yes the writing seems a little bit peaky at times (every chapter has a cliffhanger) and there are several branches of the fourth wall.  Like most final fantasy books, there is McGuffins, retcon and it literally sets every character down for rest.  

But that doesn’t stop the fantastic sugary rush of a book that is thrilling, horrifying, funny and most importantly of all - LGBTQ friendly. It is a fantasy book that respects ALL witches and warlocks. Dawson has created something that is of pure delight, rather than something that stands for a franchise (she who shall not be named) that is one of cognitive dissonance.  

It’s published by Harper Collins on July 17th and I thank them for a preview copy.  #humanrites.  

 The Benefactors by Wendy Erskine:

The lives of three Belfast women intertwine - Frankie, a care home kid now living a life of luxury.  Miriam, recently widowed and Bronagh a charity worker.  Their sons sexually assault a young girl and the crime is attempted to be brushed under the carpet.  

There is enough here for a powerful read, but sadly this isn’t it.  The first person narrative has been done to death but for my money only Anne Enright can do it with any verve or wit.  It’s pitched as a state of the nation novel, but the narrative isn’t clear enough to follow.  The writing is too opaque, figurative to actually inform the reader what is going on.  

I would also draw attention to the characterisation in the novel.  The women - although with ulterior motives - are seen as cold, driven, unhappy.  The only real male character in the novel is Boogie (a taxi driver, the mother of Misty, the girl who is sexually assaulted).  His depiction is pure poverty porn.  Plus Misty does camwork as a sideline and the concept of misogyny, with regard to sex work and male violence is muddied.  Misty’s main client is an American.  And although we could all throw shade at America, his depiction is pure Southern fried cliche. 

It’s a novel of caricature, obscurity and coldness.  It’s published by Hodder And Stoughton on June 19th and I thank them for a preview copy.  #thebenefactors.  

 Beautyland by Marie Helene-Bertino:

Adina is born when Voyager 1 launches.  Her birth connects her to an alien civilisation and she reports back to them about life on Earth and how humans cope with it.  The novel follows her through life, love and loss. 

The best books I read last year (The Ministry Of Time, The Husbands, Rare Singles) all had a relatively simple idea, but had rich, mysterious depths.  Beautyland is in that class. It’s a strangely beautiful, beautifully strange book.  It’s expansive enough to have a neat framing structure (Adina’s life is structured alongside the life cycle of a star), but tricky enough to have some original ideas - Adina reports back to her masters using a second-hand fax machine for example.  

Plus, this is a novel that lives in the last half century of American history, but is not a nostalgia trip.  Overriding it all is something genuinely brave.  The concept that the aliens - a hive mind of souls - actually exist, or it is all a paracosm.  And although it is strongly suggested that both Adina is neurodiverse and asexual, Bertino does enough to suggest she is genuinely not of this earth.  

A light, yet nourishing and incredibly moving read.  It’s published by Random House on 27th March and I sincerely thank them for making me cry.  #beautyland

 Liverpool And The Unmaking Of Britain by Sam Wetherell:

Regular readers will know I am a Liverpudlian.  And I will regularly consume any book on it and enjoy the bizarre process of reading about your own history.  This is a grand book with an overarching concept of how a city rose and fell, rose again and still might fall into the sea.  

The book runs from 1945 to 2008 and amongst the disasters such as Hillborough, there is Toxteth, the rise of Militant - a group who literally ran the city into the ground, whilst profiting others - and it’s time as Capital Of Culture, overlapping with The Credit Crunch.  

And yes, the more unpalatable aspects of the city’s past such as the slave trade, the mass deportations of Chinese sailors after the Second World War, the racism that leads to Toxteth… but also on civic kindness such as the long-standing LGBTQ community during the early years of AIDS (gay dismissed as a ‘bourgeois concept’ by Militant and the pioneering treatment of drug users.

It ends on a mirroring note, with roughly the same amount of people employed in tourism as the docks at its height.  Speke could have been Disneyland, literally.  And Liverpool Waters will be a city within a city at the end of this century, but may only last a generation before climate change erases both from history. 

This is not to say it is a depressing read, it is a comprehensive, energising book.  The best books on Liverpool (A Game Of Birds And Wolves, Wondrous Place, There She Goes) have a narrow focus and do it well.  This, is probably the first to take a panoramic view as broad as The Mersey and succeed.  It is published on February 27th by Head Of Zeus and I thank them for a preview copy.  #liverpoolandtheunmakingofbritain.