ALAN WARNER

After the scandalous theft of a pub's World Cup cash kitty, a homeless drifter pursues his eccentric uncle: 'The Man Who Walks', up into the Highlands to recover the money - a cool -27,000. The nephew's frantic, stalled progress and other bizarre diversions form this wickedly hilarious novel. But who is The Man Who Walks? Is he simply a water-carrying madman with one glass eye and a fondness for whisky and pony nuts, and who has a physiological inability to handle slopes? Or is he a savant, touched by the hand of God, wandering the back roads along ancient, ancestral tracks? And as the sinister, unstable nephew gains on The Man Who Walks, can it be that it will all end in a field and that this field is Culloden Moor?

High up in the Conrad Flats that loom bleakly over Acton, two future stars of the literary scene - or so they assume - are hard at work, tapping out words of wit and brilliance between ill-paid jobs writing captions for the Cat Calendar 1985 and blurbs for trashy novels with titles like Brothel of the Vampire. Just twenty-one but already well entrenched in a life eked out on dole payments, pints and dollops of porridge and pasta, Llewellyn and Cunningham don't have it too bad: a pub on the corner, a misdirected parental allowance, and the delightful company of Aoife, Llewellyn's model fiancee, mother of his young baby - and the woman of Cunningham's increasingly vivid dreams.Alan Warner's superb new novel sees the author of Morvern Callar at the top of his game.

A savage, surreal and very original imagination - Sunday Telegraph

The Sopranos are back: out of school and out in the world, gathered in Gatwick to plan a super-cheap last-minute holiday to celebrate their reunion. Kay, Kylah, Manda, Rachel and Finn are joined by Finn's equally gorgeous friend Ava - a half-French philosophy student - and are ready to go on the rampage. Just into their twenties and as wild as ever, they've added acrylic nails, pedicures, mobile phones and credit cards to their arsenal, but are still the same thirsty girls: their holiday bags packed with skimpy clothes and condoms, their hormones rampant. Will it be Benidorm or Magaluf, Paris or Las Vegas? One thing is certain: a great deal of fast-food will be eaten and gallons of Guinness will be drunk by the alpha-female Manda, and she will be matched by the others' enthusiastic intake of Bacardi Breezers, vodkas and Red Bull. With Alan Warner's pitch-perfect ear for dialogue, pinpoint characterisation and glorious set-pieces, this is a novel propelled by conversation through scenes of excess and debauchery, hilarity and sadness. Like the six young women at its centre, The Stars in the Bright Sky is vivid and brimming with life - in all its squalor, rage, tears and laughter - and presents an unforgettable story of female friendship.

After the scandalous theft of a pub's World Cup cash kitty, a homeless drifter pursues his eccentric uncle: 'The Man Who Walks', up into the Highlands to recover the money - a cool -27,000. The nephew's frantic, stalled progress and other bizarre diversions form this wickedly hilarious novel. But who is The Man Who Walks? Is he simply a water-carrying madman with one glass eye and a fondness for whisky and pony nuts, and who has a physiological inability to handle slopes? Or is he a savant, touched by the hand of God, wandering the back roads along ancient, ancestral tracks? And as the sinister, unstable nephew gains on The Man Who Walks, can it be that it will all end in a field and that this field is Culloden Moor?

It is off-season in a remote Highland sea port:21-year-old Morvern Callar, a low-paid employee in the local supermarket, wakes one morning to find her strange boyfriend has committed suicide and is dead on their kitchen floor. Morvern's laconic reaction is both intriguing and immoral. What she does next is even more appalling... Brutal, erotic, jarringly poetic and rich in a blood-dark humour, MORVERN CALLAR is a powerful debut novel from a new Scottish writer.

Las Sopranos son un grupo de alumnas de un colegio católico de una pequeña ciudad portuaria escocesa que cantan en el coro y viajan en autocar a Edimburgo para participar en un concurso de coros escolares. Pero las chicas no estan interesadas en ganar premio alguno, sino en ser eliminadas lo antes posible para regresar a su ciudad, porque en el puerto ha fondeado un submarino nuclear y por la noche los marineros de permiso se pavonearan en la discoteca. Pero antes de volver a casa, hay que pasarselo bien en Edimburgo... Aunque no todo son juergas para estas chicas. La vida es dura en la Escocia de los 90 y ser adolescente en esta sociedad marcada por el paro, las drogas y el excesivo consumo de alcohol no es un alegre paseo por una bucolica campiña de postal. Cada una de las Sopranos tiene su historia: una ha padecido leucemia, otra lleva en las entrañas un hijo no deseado, otra es tan pobre que la casa en la que vive parece a punto de derrumbarse, otra descubre que probablemente sea lesbiana... Integrante de la nueva hornada de airados narradores escoceses, Alan Warner se mete en esta novela radical y arrebatadora en la piel de cinco adolescentes con ganas de transgredir la rigida moral catolica en la que son educadas, de experimentar con el sexo, de hacerse adultas antes

High up in the Conrad Flats that loom bleakly over Acton, two future stars of the literary scene - or so they assume - are hard at work, tapping out words of wit and brilliance between ill-paid jobs writing captions for the Cat Calendar 1985 and blurbs for trashy novels with titles like Brothel of the Vampire. Just twenty-one but already well entrenched in a life eked out on dole payments, pints and dollops of porridge and pasta, Llewellyn and Cunningham don't have it too bad: a pub on the corner, a misdirected parental allowance, and the delightful company of Aoife, Llewellyn's model fiancee, mother of his young baby - and the woman of Cunningham's increasingly vivid dreams.Alan Warner's superb new novel sees the author of Morvern Callar at the top of his game.

Winner of the James Tait Black Fiction PrizeFor 16-year-old Simon Crimmons there is not a lot to do. Too posh for the railways, too working class for Varie, Simon must navigate what it means to be a