Mess We're In: From the Sunday Times bestselling author of Mother Mother

'So vivid . . . What (Macmanus has] managed to do with London, and what London means to different generations of Irish people, is terrific, and deeply moving' RODDY DOYLE 'Totally captures the highs and lows, emotional and personal costs associated with those aspiring to be part of the tough world that is the music business' COSEY FANNI TUTTI I'm a Londoner now. I'm a voice in the noise. I'm ready. It's the turn of the millennium and, landing in London with nothing but her CD collection and demo tape, Orla Quinn moves into a squalid Kilburn house with her best mate and a band called Shiva. Orla wants to make music, but juggling two jobs and partying every night isn't helping. Back in Ireland her parents' marriage has crumbled, she's not speaking to her father, and her mother and sister are drinking too much. While Orla's own dreams seem to be going nowhere, Shiva are on the brink of something big. But as the hype around the band intensifies, so does the hedonism, and relationships in the house are growing strained. This is the story of a young woman thrashing through life, trying to find home in a strange new place. It's also a story about music: how it can break you down and build you back up again, and how to find your rhythm when all you hear is noise. Praise for The Mess We're In: 'I'm so sad it's over. I could have read another sixty chapters . . . A fantastic read' JOANNE MCNALLY 'Beautifully painted, well set up and realistic' SARA COX 'A dizzying tale of young adulthood and the glimmering freedom and not-so-good decisions that come with it.' CHLOE ASHBY Praise for Mother Mother: 'A writer whose understanding and capturing of human nature comes as easily to her as breathing' CANDICE CARTY-WILLIAMS 'Writes with flair and confidence rarely seen in a debut' SINEAD GLEESON 'Tender, surprising, occasionally bleak, moving and delicate' IRISH TIMES 'A study of grief, addiction and what it means to be a mother' STYLIST 'Melancholy, beautifully unadorned prose' MAIL ON SUNDAY