Mark Mullan — Excerpt: Hanna Nielson’s debut is a joyous Joycean romp through a single wintery night in post-Troubles Belfast that asks: If all of life is a play, do we write our own lines?
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Sadie Kaye — Excerpt: It was like all my phobias had decided to get together and have a child.
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Joe Couture — Excerpt: He was lying in bed eating shrimp-flavoured crackers when he got the call. His mother had finally died.
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Abulqosim Mamarasulov, translated from the Uzbek by Ferangiz Zokirova — Excerpt: Habib woke early, as he always did. When he pushed open the window, the sharp, metallic scent of snow rushed into the hospital ward.
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Anjana Basu — Excerpt: Bond left the hills as little as he could, and the foothills of the Himalayas, with their myths and natural beauty, form the backdrop of his writing.
