Crippled? Fuck that. Her right foot drags like a dog’s leash. Her right hand has muscle to lift a metal crane. Ivy Freeman is a powerhouse to reckon with. As far as serial killers go.

'A brief study of bitter pride, it's a remarkable example of economical writing, painstaking in its attention to detail.' Nicholas Royle, Time Out

A collection of eight short speculative fictions with a Lake District flavour.

Memories around a short-term summer job years ago still linger.

Some things are better left unfound. After weeks working offshore and away from his wife, a man waits to be reunited with her in a hired cottage. However, she's running late and into the void of her absence comes a feeling that something is wrong, and a persistent chill that won't just leave him be.

An account of being, loss, and the sea.

Nigel is long past his peak, and a string of trivial incidents during a boozy day at the pub bring it home to him. Memories of times gone by are of no solace when you don't get the respect you think you deserve.