Teddy by Emily Dunlay:

In late 1969, America, Teddy Huntley is an art student.  She’s also desired by men.  She marries a government official, moves to an Italy and becomes involved in a conspiracy where her own past unravels as quickly as a possible future could be revealed.  

It’s a delicious premise, the right side of trashy, with a political edge for those looking for a serious read.  However, it falls somewhere between the two and feels a somewhat elusive, allusive work of fiction.  There’s enough to produce a bright, engaging character - Teddy is matter of fact in her narration of her sex life as much as she is about modern art.  See also, the grimy, but glamorous backdrop of 1960’s Italy.  

But that imagined timeline, where Teddy’s nemesis is not the men who see her as disposable - but the ex-Cowboy actor, planning to run for President in 1976 - doesn’t seem explored as fully as it could be.  The overarching narrative nods to both Me Too and the current tyre fire that is American politics and the pieces of the novel didn’t really gel for me, but in age where nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, some may find the past as contemporary as the present.  It’s published by 4th Estate on  2nd July and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 Mouthing by Orla Mackey:

This is a novel presented in a first person narrative; with the residents of an Irish village telling their history.  In this sense, it’s a disjointed narrative, with a flashback/flash forward structure, with names and events growing in significance as they become relevant.  

In that sense, it’s a novel with literary ambition, with the minor nod to Larkin, the major nod the Dylan Thomas.  It’s also a novel where the author has the economy of vision to tell the story in a short period of time (roughly 250 pages).  However, the dizzying pace of the construction requires constant attention.  Readers who can give it the space and study it requires will love it, others may find it unsatisfying and feel that that half the tale is not what they need.  It’s published by Hamish Hamilton on May 30th and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 The Alternatives by Caoilin Hughes:

Once upon a time, there were three Irish sisters: Olwen ( a geology lecturer) Rhonda (a political fixer) Maeve (a chef, last book on ‘post Brexit cookery’) and Nell (pansexual free spirit/philosophy lecturer).  A family tragedy tore them apart and now another brings them together. 

It’s a delicious mix for Hughes’s third novel.  Where the casual reader may have trouble is in it’s shifts in style - from broadly comic, to social parody, to an America on the verge of a second bout of Trumpian madness and a thought-experiment on how a united Ireland might actually work.  All that cosmic, comic fuel is expended in the last third of the book (which is largely playscript).  

So that sleight of hand may leave you short-changed - it’s a quietly comic, structurally daring book which knows it’s audience, but it is as not as thoughtful or uproarious as some recent Irish books.  It’s published by Oneworld on 2nd May and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 Broken Shadows is Sorrell Pitts second novel.  Admittedly, that was a while back, but this is a well-built, powerful thriller that will keep you guessing.  Tom returns home to Wiltshire to nurse his terminally ill Father.  At the same time, Anna returns home to recover from both an operation and an ailing relationship.  The unanswered question is the murder of Tom’s brother Callum when both he and Anna were children.  

As stated, second novel… but it doesn’t suffer from second novel syndrome.  There is a very definite sense of place for Wiltshire, as much as there is Adelaide and Istanbul.  The characters are well-sketched, but there is the definite tang of middle-aged sadness - plus the unsolved mystery of what actually happened to Callum.  It’s an English thriller with a hint of the existential.  

It’s published by and my thanks go to for Grace Pilkington and Bloodhound Books for a preview copy.   

 The Ministry Of Time by Kailane Bradley:

This book had been tipped for success for some time, it’s was in all the ‘best books of 2024’ lists, the international rights have been sold and the TV adaptation is already in progress.  I’m here to tell you that the hype is/was/will be real. 

In a near future/becoming dystopian Britain, time travel is discovered.  People are saved from a variety of fates and named ‘expats’.  They are assigned a ‘bridge’, someone to acclimatise those saved to 21st century life and the novel contains the relationship between a British-Cambodian civil servant and Graham Gore, a 19th Arctic explorer.  

Ok, that’s a vague and allusive stub of the narrative, but I’m not the kind of blogger who’ll let slip the book’s delicious secrets.  One twist can be guessed immediately, but that’s the main strand of the narrative.  The others, you won’t see coming a mile off. It’s a book that is part science-fiction, part thriller, part-deadpan comedy.  Its roots are in flash fiction (Gore did actually exist), but that’s not to dismiss the effortless comic skill of someone adapting to a pre-apocalyptic future.  I loved the other characters too, especially Margaret the proto-lesbian saved from the plague, let loose in hipster London.  

The marketing material compares it to Time Traveller’s Wife  or Cloud Atlas and they’re two of my favourite books.  I think that does the author a great disservice, as The Ministry Of Time is quite unlike anything you’ll read this year or any year.  It’s published by Hodder And Stoughton on May 14th and I thank them for a preview copy.  

Glasgow Boys by Margaret McDonald:  

Finlay and Banjo are two rootless kids in care in Glasgow and from a close emotional bond.   Three years later, Banjo is with foster parents and begins to fall in love.  Finlay is left care and is in training at medical school.  He too, falls in love.  As their world collides, the open wounds of the past open up.  

This is certainly a well-written book, with a metronomic structure, but also flashback/flashforward.  However, that can be a little confining and the novel does tend to drag its feet where it could dance.  And the novel’s big reveal, where the two characters finally meet takes place far too late in the novel, leading to a denouement that feels both neat and Panglossian.  

Nevertheless, it reflects the boho and the gadgie.  Plus, it’s nice to see something that is purely of the modern day city, rather than the relflection of what Welsh was doing thirty years ago.  It’s published by Faber and Faber on May 2nd and I thank them for a review copy.