A chilling, spellbinding thriller about sex, love, faith and greed—and a toxic evil at the heart of modern society…As a naive teenager, Azeem went to a jihadi training camp in Afghanistan. He learned how to fight, hate the West, and honour his band of brothers unto death. Now he’s in his twenties, he loves his cool, settled London life. His beautiful lover, Shirin… his chilled-out flat in Bloomsbury… the stirring spiritual certainties of meditating and the mosque…
He’s got it all, and he wants to enrich society with his ideals of purity and peace.
But when a young girl he knows is knifed on the street in a bloodily-botched honour killing, Azeem wakes up to the more lethal ideals of some of his comrades in faith. As the atrocities mount up, one by one, Azeem’s certainties are ripped to shreds.
Both he and his religion are being dishonoured.
Then his lover Shirin is kidnapped. Azeem knows he has to act—has to use the killing skills he learned in Afghanistan to free her and take revenge.
Because to save what he loves, he has to become what he hates—maybe at the cost of his honour.
Idealistic Azeem gets pulled into a tragicomic nightmare, stumbling through a terrifying series of misunderstandings and conflicts which culminate in a bloody confrontation on the Turkish coast.
Honour is a controversial, topical thriller—shot through with shafts of black comedy—about trying to be true to oneself in a world of lies. Loosely based on real events, it is rooted in ancient Persian fairy tales and myths.
A dark tale of oppressive friendship and the fallibility of memory.Photographer Chrissy returns home for the first time in 34 years, unsure if she caused the death of her best friend, Pat, in 1973.
Her parents now dead, she plans to sell up quickly and leave. But the past returns, unbidden and cloudy. Elderly neighbour Alice and childhood friend Marion seem unable or unwilling to fill in the gaps. And Spencer, the nihilistic lover she assumed dead, is alive and producing commercial art for tourists.
Memories of events leading up to Pat’s death must be recovered if Chrissy is to find out what it is she’s been running from all those years.
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She’s glad it’s dark and she can’t see the fall, only a moving shine on the water, blinking and shifting; a vague sense of the drop. But at the top, astride and facing Pat, she’s big again, in control, safe. Like a giant in a fairy tale.
Her hands have gone dead. She can’t even feel her legs or feet now. She wonders if she’s still touching the tiles, or is actually lifting away from the roof. She senses this is the end, this is it, there won’t be anything more and really, now, she just wishes it would happen. Close her eyes. Float away.
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Nothing has changed in Mardow-by-Sea in sixty years, except a dwindling in the numbers of holiday-makers coming to spend the summer.
A barmaid’s curse – that town residents might one day follow their own minds instead of living by committee rule – comes to fruition after she is murdered in the castle grounds of her lover, Lord Belfry, and people unwittingly find themselves acting on their inner voices.
When a harmless tea-dance spirals out of control, spilling into the streets in a debauched carnival that seemingly has no end, it becomes clear there are darker forces at work in Mardow-by-Sea.
A prophetic vagrant and a rebellious owl seem to have the answers, but can Aelita – hired to promote the resort – decipher their clues and save the town before she too succumbs to the madness?
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