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August Adams has an awful track record with love. She’s worked very hard to make herself emotionally unavailable. Her life consists of her art, her best friend, and a feral cat named Iris. Until the day Jack Murphy falls into her life. Literally.The new lawn man takes a tumble into the hole in her front yard – the very hole he’s there to deal with. This man with his big brown eyes, his muscled forearms, and his quick smile shakes up her safe little world from that very first encounter. Ready or not, here he is. Eager to love her and hoping to be loved in return. So it’s all up to August. But can she let go of her past and embrace her future? Or will she remain once bitten, twice shy?

A collection of Charlotte Roche’s two sensational, defiantly honest and startlingly unique novels‘We should celebrate a writer like Roche, whose voice is defiantly, shamelessly her own’ GuardianRoche’s first novel, ‘Wetlands’, is a headlong dash through every crevice and byproduct, physical and psychological, of its narrator's body and mind. It immediately became a literary sensation on publication, and was the biggest selling book on Amazon – anywhere in the world.Replete with a forty page description of marital sex, details of worms, and even, following an abortion, ‘the best anal sex ever’, ‘Wrecked’ reannounced Charlotte Roche, and showed her exploring the detrimental pressures placed on women as mothers and wives.

A novel about cross-dressing, social apathy, and seeing the best in people, a little too late.It started when I came home and found my bloody pointless stupid bastard boyfriend, Charlie, on my sofa, in my blue Lycra dress. He was having some sort of breakdown.It transpired that Charlie had been having an epiphany of sorts. The previous night, standing on his balcony, he had witnessed an attack – on a woman he'd just kicked out of his bed. Ahsen and shaken, on his way to work the next day, he had found a dead body in the train toilets and now here he was, in a dress, sobbing uncontrollably.I had been ready to dump Charlie once and for all – he was an unfaithful bastard (so was I, but not to the same extent). But he convinced me to run off with him to Devon for a week to sort his head out and I decided I owed him that much. Sizzling in the unlikely heatwave that week, everything changed between us, as we sucked on ice-creams naked on deckchairs, and hi-jacked an old people's bowling green. But despite the fact that our relationship had never been so strong and never meant so much to either of us, could we handle what was waiting for us back in London?