‘Moss makes every moment count’ – The Sunday Times
‘The achievement of a lifetime’ – Jessie Burton
‘A book of lasting pleasures’ – Eleanor Catton
‘A powerful and beautifully written story of family, friendship and identity’ – Guardian

Just out of school and teetering on the brink of adulthood, Edith is sent alone to rural Italy. Her task is simple: support her sister Lydia, a brilliant but brittle ballet dancer, through the final weeks of her pregnancy. Once the child is born, she is to make a phone call that will change all of their lives forever.

Decades later, Edith is living a contented life in Ireland, happily divorced and unexpectedly free. But when her friend Méabh receives a call from a stranger claiming to be her brother, everything shifts. As Méabh confronts a history she never knew she had, Edith is pulled back into the long-buried story of the baby she once held, and lost.

‘Tender and rueful . . . Sarah Moss is a marvel of insight and eloquence’ – Emma Donoghue
‘One of our greatest living writers’ – Katherine May, author of Wintering

Praise for Sarah Moss:
‘Throws much contemporary writing into the shade’ – Hilary Mantel
‘One of our very best contemporary novelists’ – Independent
‘A brilliant mind’ – The Guardian
‘Moss has quietly been putting out some of the most interesting and carefully sculpted novels of recent years’ – Financial Times
‘One of the finest contemporary writers working in Britain today’ – Stylist
‘Is Sarah Moss the best British writer never nominated for the Booker?’ – Daily Mail
‘Nothing escapes her sly humour and brilliant touch’ – Jessie Burton
‘The most brilliant writer. She deserves to win all the prizes’ – Joanna Trollope

A memoir about thinking and reading, eating and denying your body food, about the relationships that form us and the long tentacles of childhood.

In the household of Sarah Moss’s childhood she learnt that the female body and mind were battlegrounds. 1970s austerity and second-wave feminism came together: she must keep herself slim but never be vain, she must be intelligent but never angry, she must be able to cook and sew and make do and mend, but know those skills were frivolous. Clever girls should be ambitious but women must restrain themselves. Women had to stay small.

Years later, her self-control had become dangerous, and Sarah found herself in A&E. The return of her teenage anorexia had become a medical emergency, forcing her to reckon with all that she had denied her hard-working body and furiously turning mind.

My Good Bright Wolf navigates contested memories of girlhood, the chorus of relentless and controlling voices that dogged Sarah’s every thought, and the writing and books in which she could run free. Beautiful, audacious, moving and very funny, this memoir is a remarkable exercise in the way a brain turns on itself, and then finds a way out.

From Sarah Moss, the Sunday Times bestselling author of Summerwater, My Good Bright Wolf is a memoir like no other.

‘Moss writes so compassionately about human frailty while her own work is as close to perfect as a novelist’s can be’ – The Times

‘Devastating, funny . . . a brave and important book’ – Melissa Harrison

A memoir about thinking and reading, eating and denying your body food, about privilege and scarcity, about the relationships that form us and the long tentacles of childhood.

In the household of Sarah Moss’s childhood she learnt that the female body and mind were battlegrounds. 1970s austerity and second-wave feminism came together: she must keep herself slim but never be vain, she must be intelligent but never angry, she must be able to cook and sew and make do and mend, but know those skills were frivolous. Clever girls should be ambitious but women must restrain themselves. Women had to stay small.

Years later, her self-control had become dangerous, and Sarah found herself in A&E. The return of her teenage anorexia had become a medical emergency, forcing her to reckon with all that she had denied her hard-working body and furiously turning mind.

My Good Bright Wolf navigates contested memories of girlhood, the chorus of relentless and controlling voices that dogged Sarah’s every thought, and the writing and books in which she could run free. Beautiful, audacious, moving and very funny, this memoir is a remarkable exercise in the way a brain turns on itself, and then finds a way out.

From Sarah Moss, the Sunday Times bestselling author of Summerwater, My Good Bright Wolf is a memoir like no other.

‘Moss writes so compassionately about human frailty while her own work is as close to perfect as a novelist’s can be’ – The Times

‘I gulped The Fell down in one sitting’ – Emma Donoghue

‘Her work is as close to perfect as a novelist’s can be’ – The Times

At dusk on a November evening in 2020, Kate slips out of her garden gate and turns up the hill. In the middle of two weeks of Covid quarantine, she just can’t take the confinement any more. The moor will be deserted at this time, and nobody need ever know.

But Kate’s neighbour Alice sees her leaving and Matt, Kate’s son, soon realizes she’s missing. What began as a furtive walk has turned into a mountain rescue operation as Kate, who planned only a quick breath of open air, falls and badly injures herself.

Unbearably suspenseful, witty and wise, The Fell asks probing questions about the world since the first Covid lockdown, and the place it was before. This intense masterpiece is a story about compassion, kindness and the lengths we must go to survive.

‘Gripping, thoughtful and revelatory’ – Paula Hawkins

‘An intense masterpiece and one of my best books of the year’ – Rachel Joyce

‘One of our very best contemporary novelists’ – Independent

‘A tense page turner . . . I gulped The Fell down in one sitting’ – Emma Donoghue
‘Gripping, thoughtful and revelatory’ – Paula Hawkins
‘This slim, intense masterpiece is one of my best books of the year’ – Rachel Joyce
‘Her work is as close to perfect as a novelist’s can be’ The Times

At dusk on a November evening in 2020 a woman slips out of her garden gate and turns up the hill. Kate is in the middle of a two-week quarantine period, but she just can’t take it any more – the closeness of the air in her small house, the confinement. And anyway, the moor will be deserted at this time. Nobody need ever know.

But Kate’s neighbour Alice sees her leaving and Matt, Kate’s son, soon realizes she’s missing. And Kate, who planned only a quick solitary walk – a breath of open air – falls and badly injures herself. What began as a furtive walk has turned into a mountain rescue operation . . .

Unbearably suspenseful, witty and wise, The Fell asks probing questions about the place the world has become since March 2020, and the place it was before. This novel is a story about compassion and kindness and what we must do to survive, and it will move you to tears.

‘One of our very best contemporary novelists’ – Independent

From the acclaimed author of Ghost Wall, Sarah Moss. Summerwater is a devastating story told over twenty-four hours in the Scottish highlands.

‘Superb’ – The Times
‘Sharp, searching . . . utterly of the moment’ – Hilary Mantel
‘Beautifully written, intense, powerful’ – David Nicholls

It is the summer solstice, but in a faded Scottish cabin park the rain is unrelenting. Twelve people on holiday with their families look on as the skies remain resolutely grey. A woman goes running up the Ben as if fleeing; a teenage boy chances the dark waters of the loch in his kayak; a retired couple head out despite the downpour, driving too fast on the familiar bends.

But there are newcomers too, and one particular family, a mother and daughter with the wrong clothes and the wrong manners, start to draw the attention of the others. Who are they? Where are they from? As darkness finally falls, something is unravelling . . .

‘A masterpiece’ – Jessie Burton
‘One of her best’ – Irish Times
‘So accomplished’ – Guardian

From the acclaimed author of Ghost Wall, Summerwater is a devastating story told over twenty-four hours in the Scottish highlands, and a searing exploration of our capacity for both kinship and cruelty in these divided times.

On the longest day of the summer, twelve people sit cooped up with their families in a faded Scottish cabin park. The endless rain leaves them with little to do but watch the other residents.

A woman goes running up the Ben as if fleeing; a retired couple reminisce about neighbours long since moved on; a teenage boy braves the dark waters of the loch in his red kayak. Each person is wrapped in their own cares but increasingly alert to the makeshift community around them. One particular family, a mother and daughter without the right clothes or the right manners, starts to draw the attention of the others. Tensions rise and all watch on, unaware of the tragedy that lies ahead as night finally falls.

Longlisted for the Orwell Prize for Political Fiction 2021.

‘Nothing escapes her sly humour and brilliant touch. Deft and brimming with life, Summerwater is a novel of endless depth. A masterpiece.’ Jessie Burton, author of The Miniaturist

‘Summerwater may be her best so far.’ The Times

‘This latest display of Moss’s imaginative versatility shine[s] with intelligence’ Sunday Times