january sale
25% off selected Scottish titles
Gibbon doesn’t garnish English with Scots; he drags English through Scots rhythm until it limps.[...]
Magnusson won’t perfume history for your comfort. She writes raids, clearances, and “progress” as logistics[...]
Crime fiction sells the lone investigator as a moral detergent: wade into filth, come out[...]
The market begs for Scotland as a product: mist, whisky, a tasteful bit of menace.[...]
The cat-book assembly line sells whiskers as therapy and calls it insight. Alex Howard refuses[...]
Cosy crime sells death as a puzzle and community as a warm blanket. Meyrick tears[...]
May takes steampunk’s brass swagger and court intrigue’s silk rot and tightens the screws until[...]
Heritage fiction wants the past behind glass. Kate Foster smashes the case, drags the evidence[...]
Malone didn’t trade poems for plot; he weaponised compression. The lines are cut to bone,[...]
T. L. Huchu threads Zimbabwean myth through Edinburgh without sanding either side down. In The[...]