Aged fifteen, as Franco's forces begin their murderous purges and cities across Spain rise up against the old order, Montse has never heard the word fascista before. In any case, the villagers say facha (the ch is a real Spanish ch, by the way, with a real spit). Montse lives in a small village, high in the hills, where few people can read or write and fewer still ever leave. If everything goes according to her mother's plan, Montse will never leave either. She will become a good, humble maid for the local landowners, muchísimas gracias, with every Sunday off to dance the jota in the church square. But Montse's world is changing. Her brother José has just returned from Lérida with a red and black scarf and a new, dangerous vocabulary and his words are beginning to open up new realms to his little sister. She might not understand half of what he says, but how can anyone become a maid in the Burgos family when their head is ringing with shouts of Revolución, Comunidad and Libertad? The war, it seems, has arrived in the nick of time.

This thoughtful, poetic book uses metaphors and beautiful imagery to explore the reasons for our tears. In a soft voice, Mario asks, “Mother, why do we cry?” And his mother begins to tell him about the many reasons for our tears. We cry because our sadness is so huge it must escape from our bodies. We cry because we don’t understand the world, and our tears go in search of an answer. Most important, she tells him, we cry because we feel like crying. And, as she shows him then, sometimes we feel like crying for joy. This warm, reassuring hug of a book makes clear that everyone is allowed to cry, and that everyone does.

Carl Hiaasen meets Tartan Noir in this comic crime caper set on the sunny Costa Blanca. What Carl Hiaasen does for Florida and Elmore Leonard did for LA, Morgan Cry does for Spain's sun-splashed Mediterranean coast, where British expats and certain notorious criminals go to escape-slash-retire. When Daniella Coulstoun's estranged mother, Effie, dies in Spain under suspicious circumstances, Daniella feels it's her duty to fly out for the funeral. Effie was the sole owner of the seedy expat pub Se Busca, whose faithful kept her in business for twenty years. Among them is a dangerous group of misfits who confront Daniella on her arrival, claiming that Effie stole huge sums of cash from them in a multimillion-euro property scam. They want the money back, and Daniella is on the hook for it. When a suspicious Spanish detective begins to probe Effie's death and a London gangster hears about the missing money, Daniella faces threats on every front, including the promise of breakage to thirty-one of her precious bones. With no idea where the cash is and a seemingly impossible deadline, she has no choice but to fall back on her wits to solve the mystery in a world where she is out of depth and her very survival is at stake.

The second volume in a trilogy on the Spanish Civil War. The protagonists are two teenagers, Manuel and Marta. They are brought together by the death of a Republican fighter who was his friend and her husband. The novel chronicles their growing involvement against the background of the war.

NOW A MAJOR NEW BBC ONE DRAMAThe Cry was longlisted for the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year Award. When a baby goes missing on a lonely roadside in Australia, it sets off a police investigation that will become a media sensation and dinner-table talk across the world. Lies, rumours and guilt snowball, causing the parents, Joanna and Alistair, to slowly turn against each other. Finally Joanna starts thinking the unthinkable: could the truth be even more terrible than she suspected? And what will it take to make things right? Perfect for fans of Julia Crouch, Sophie Hannah and Laura Lippman, The Cry was widely acclaimed as one of the best psychological thrillers of the year. There's a gripping moral dilemma at its heart and characters who will keep you guessing on every page.

Relational Responses to Trauma in Twenty-First-Century French and Spanish Women's Writing offers new insight into what it means to write relational lives. It broadens the parameters of existing discussions in terms of geography as well as genre, drawing together two literatures whose prominence in life-writing theory to date could hardly be more different: while French women's writing has long been at the centre of international discussions of autobiography, the relative invisibility of Spanish women's writing remains striking. The dialogue that thus underpins this study, between diverse twenty-first-century case studies and broader approaches to life-writing, shines a light on what is gained from inviting different voices into the discussion. These narrative projects challenge longstanding critical assumptions in autobiography studies and trauma theory about how writers can and should represent the multiple perspectives that are at the heart of intergenerational stories. In exploring the narrative solutions that these texts propose in response to the ethical questions they navigate, this book shows that writing relational lives rests on far more than the mere recounting of a shared history. 'Relating' in these texts, it proposes, is an act embedded in the telling of the story. It is a mode of testifying together to traumatic experience, one that reveals a powerful preoccupation in contemporary women's life-writing practice with making more audible the many voices and versions that go unheard.