Andrew Michael Hurley - Hodder & Stoughton

Andrew Michael Hurley



Andrew Michael Hurley has lived in Manchester and London, and is now based in Lancashire. His first novel, The Loney, was originally published by Tartarus Press, a tiny independent publisher based in Yorkshire, as a 300-copy limited-edition, before being republished by John Murray and going on to win the Costa Best First Novel Award and Book of the Year at the British Book Industry Awards in 2016.
Books currently available by this author

Date published: New > Old

Coming Soon
John Murray

Devil's Day

Andrew Michael Hurley
Authors:
Andrew Michael Hurley

BOOK OF THE YEAR IN THE TIMES, SUNDAY TIMES, FT, METRO AND MAIL ON SUNDAY'The new master of menace' Sunday TimesEvery autumn, John Pentecost returns to the farm where he grew up to help gather the sheep down from the moors for the winter. Very little changes in the Endlands, but this year, his grandfather - the Gaffer - has died and John's new wife, Katherine, is accompanying him for the first time.Each year, the Gaffer would redraw the boundary lines of the village, with pen and paper, but also through the remembrance of tales and timeless communal rituals, which keep the sheep safe from the Devil. But as the farmers of the Endlands bury the Gaffer, and prepare to gather the sheep, they begin to wonder whether they've let the Devil in after all . . .

John Murray

The Loney

Andrew Michael Hurley
Authors:
Andrew Michael Hurley

WINNER OF THE 2015 COSTA FIRST NOVEL AWARD THE BRITISH BOOK AWARDS BOOK OF THE YEAR 2016 'Modern classics in this genre are rare, and instant ones even rarer; The Loney, however, looks as though it may be both' Sunday TelegraphIf it had another name, I never knew, but the locals called it the Loney - that strange nowhere between the Wyre and the Lune where Hanny and I went every Easter time with Mummer, Farther, Mr and Mrs Belderboss and Father Wilfred, the parish priest.It was impossible to truly know the place. It changed with each influx and retreat, and the neap tides would reveal the skeletons of those who thought they could escape its insidious currents. No one ever went near the water. No one apart from us, that is.I suppose I always knew that what happened there wouldn't stay hidden for ever, no matter how much I wanted it to. No matter how hard I tried to forget . . .(P)2015 John Murray Press