Tinder Press
Tinder Press
Tinder Press
Tinder Press
A visceral, visual novel of rural experiment and dark secrets. 'This book demands to be savoured, even as it clamours to be devoured' Times
'With slow, quiet intent Kate Worsley builds a tense atmosphere of looming horror. This book demands to be savoured, even as it clamours to be devoured' Times
'A wonderfully atmospheric and deeply unsettling novel, full of images so vivid they seem to leap off the page. Worsley's fiction is something to savour' Sarah Waters
Worn out by poverty, Lettie Radley and her miner husband Tommy grasp at the offer of their very own smallholding - part of a 1030s Government scheme to put the unemployed back to work on the land. When she comes down to Essex to join him, her new neighbours greet her. Overbearing and unkempt, Jean and Adam Dell are everything that the smart, spirited, aspirational Lettie can't abide.
As Lettie settles in, she's hopeful that her past, and the terrible secret Tommy has come to Foxash to escape, are far behind them. But the Dells have their own secrets. And as the seasons change, and a man comes knocking at the gate, the scene is set for a terrible reckoning.
Combining a gothic sensibility with a visceral, unsettling sense of place, Foxash is a deeply original novel of quiet and powerful menace, of the real hardships of rural life, and the myths and folklore that seep into ordinary lives - with surprising consequences.
A wonderfully atmospheric and deeply unsettling novel, full of images so vivid they seem to leap off the page. Worsley's fiction is something to savour
A rich, wonderfully uneasy pleasure. Exquisitely written and deeply original, with secrets that are tightly layered, always surprising and teased out with impressive control
Kate Worsley has a wonderfully fertile imagination. She writes for the senses: the touch of soil; the taste of a home remedy; the whiff of decay. Her wily prose curls around the story she is telling, like a creeper
Beguiling, and written with a piercing eye for style. It burrows under the surface of the rural idyll, exposing a shadowy hinterland