There really are no words to say how ridiculously excited I am about my new book baby, The Women of Primrose Square. And what about that glorious cover? I’d gladly have it made into a T-shirt if I could.

To tell you a little bit about the book: last year, I published a novel called The Secrets of Primrose Square and it was such an absolute joy to write, I wanted to revisit the same location, except to meet a few new residents on the square, with very different stories to tell – and lots more secrets to keep!

This particular story starts with Mr Frank Woods, who’s probably the quietest and most self-effacing human on the face of the planet. I mean, this is a guy whose nickname is Mr Cellophane.

Anyway, Frank is about to turn fifty and for once in his life, he’s actually decided to throw himself a birthday party. But no one will come. No one. The excuses come in thick and fast and poor old Frank, who only wanted everyone to have a happy, memorable night, can’t help feeling unwanted, unloved and utterly despondent.

So instead, he decides to execute Plan B. Late at night, he comes home to an utterly deserted house and lets himself in, thinking he’s got the whole place to himself. Next thing, all the lights come on and he hears ‘surprise!’ being yelled at him from every corner.

But the clapping and cheering fast die out. Standing in front of them isn’t Frank at all, but Francesca.

Meanwhile right next door lives Violet Hardcastle, generally held to be the most moany miserablist on the whole of Primrose Square. Violet is holed up in her house and desperately strapped for cash – so why not take in lodgers, another neighbor suggests? Frank duly moves in with her, desperate to be close to his kids, while he and his wife work through intensive counselling.

To up the ante, there’s a third flatmate about to enter the mix – Emily Dunne, who’s just been released from rehab where she was treated for alcoholism, and who desperately needs a roof over her head. But when she and Violet first meet, it’s hate at first sight – to put it mildly.

But Violet herself turns out to be a mystery woman and soon her whole insular world is thrown upside down as her new tenants try to find out a few home truths about her. Like, why is she so completely vile to all of humanity? And why does she never go outside the front door?

And that’s all I’m going to tell you! All I’ll say is that the women of Primrose Square are each nursing a tightly held secret. But if there’s one thing we know for sure, it’s that secrets never last for too long – at least, certainly not on Primrose Square.

 

Best wishes and thank you for reading this!

Claudia Carroll