The Loney: 'Full of unnerving terror . . . amazing' Stephen King - Softcover

A haunting exploration of religion, faith and family. Hurley's evocation of the landscape is bleak and beautiful, while his portrayal of a family slowly imploding is both perceptive and compelling * Sunday Express summer reads * A masterclass in spinning out tension * Financial Times * A tale of suspense that sucks you in and pulls you under. As yarns go, it rips * New Statesman * A haunting and ambiguous novel that will keep you up at night * Daily Express * An unforgettable addition to the ranks of the best British horror * Metro * An eerie, disturbing read that doesn't let up until its surprise ending * Daily Mail * Written with the skill of a poet * The Times, Books of the Year * This is a novel of the unsaid, the implied, the barely grasped or understood, crammed with dark holes and blurry spaces that your imagination feels compelled to fill * Observer * An extraordinarily haunted and haunting novel * Daily Telegraph * A masterful excursion into terror * Sunday Times * Here is the masterpiece by which Hurley must enter the Guild of the Gothic: it pleases me to think of his name written on some parchment scroll, alongside those of Walpole, Du Maurier, Maturin and Jackson * Guardian * An amazing piece of fiction * Stephen King *

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 Telegraph If 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 . . .