“One part fairy tale and one part horror story, Nowhere Burning is seductive and incendiary….The world of make-believe has never been so deadly.”
– M.L. Rio, author of If We Were Villains

“Catriona Ward is a sorceress of the highest order and Nowhere Burning is nothing short of spellbinding. The scale of both tenderness and terror is a marvel. Ward’s storytelling has reached such heights that I can only adequately compare her to herself: it’s as eerily atmospheric as Little Eve, as twisty and complex as Looking Glass Sound, and as emotionally compelling as Sundial. I will follow Ward anywhere, holding my breath as I go.”
– Olivie Blake, New York Times bestselling author of Girl Dinner

“Fiercely original, full of malice and wild empathy. Ward is so damn good and always, always surprising. Every sentence is a barbed and glittering thread weaving through pop culture obsessions; the glamorous movie star recluse, the feral kid cult, the wounded true crime documentary makers, to reveal the dread secrets that lie hidden in the mountains and human hearts.”
– Lauren Beukes, author of The Shining Girls

Some people attract death. It loves them, twines around them like ivy, follows them all their lives. Riley has suspected for some time that death is just a step or two behind her. So when the boy in green follows her down the street that summer day she wonders – if only for a moment – whether he might be death, catching up with her at last.

Riley is on her way home – or back to Cousin’s house anyway – when she feels him in her wake. He moves from shadow to shadow. He’s thin, about her age, as far as she can see. Green t-shirt, jeans streaked green at the knees like he’s been climbing trees or skidding down hills. If he wasn’t trying so hard to hide Riley probably wouldn’t have noticed it.

It’s an unseasonably warm early summer and behind the city the white snowline has crept back up to the very tips of the mountains. The asphalt is warm and stray dandelions poke up from the cracks in the sidewalk. People are starting to come outside, walking slowly through the heat the day has left behind, tugging their hat brims down against the sinking sun.

She leaves the avenue with the convenience store on the corner and turns down the quiet street, lined with worn-out Victorians. Riley can almost hear the paint bubbling and cracking in the heat. Like a twig cracking underfoot, she thinks. The sound comes again and Riley realises with an indrawn breath that the sound is not just in her imagination. It’s out here in the world with her.