A chilling, compulsive debut about group mentality, superstition and betrayal - and a utopian commune gone badly wrong.
We were the Family, and Foxlowe was our home. There was me - my name is Green - and my little sister, Blue. There was October, who we called Toby, and Ellensia, Dylan, Liberty, Pet and Egg. There was Richard, of course, who was one of the Founders. And there was Freya.
We were the Family, but we weren't just an ordinary family. We were a new, better kind of family. We didn't need to go to school, because we had a new, better kind of education. We shared everything. We were close to the ancient way of living and the ancient landscape. We knew the moors and the standing stones. We celebrated the solstice in the correct way, with honey and fruit and garlands of fresh flowers. We knew the Bad, and we knew how to keep it away.
And we had Foxlowe, our home. Where we were free. There really was no reason for anyone to want to leave.
"Mesmerising, gripping and beautifully written. It completely sweeps you up from beginning to end. I loved it." (Kate Hamer, author of The Girl in the Red Coat)
"An extraordinary, astonishing story of a girl's longing for motherly love. Beautifully harrowing, and powerfully haunting, it is the most heartbreaking tale I have read this year." (Liz Nugent, author of Unravelling Oliver)
"I thoroughly enjoyed this vivid and claustrophobic coming-of-age debut." (Tasha Kavanagh, author of Things We Have in Common)
"Dissonant, haunting and superbly atmospheric. An immensely subtle and profoundly affecting debut." (Paraic O'Donnell, author of The Maker of Swans)
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