At St Alcuin's Monastery, in 14th century Yorkshire, Abbot John is in shock after learning of the rape of his sister and murder of his mother. The refugee Father William is discovering his own vulnerability. As they support their leader and their barely-welcome guest, the community of brothers undertake the task of nurturing the grace of God in their souls. The Hour before Dawn explores the psychological impact of grief and trauma, and the possibility of healing. Wilcock deftly weaves themes of the resurrection and ascension throughout the story, exploring the process of having survived suffering, but not yet having moved on. Based on solid historical research, Wilcock's representation of monastic life is authentic, rich with poetic prose and a sense of time and place.

‘She had given her husband four children, had bared her body and soul to him... why did he want to remarry? Today, what made him dress in a new silk kurta, become a bridegroom once again, and leave on elephant-back to take another woman as his wife?’ When Menoka’s dissolute husband Mohikanto takes a second wife she is devastated by the heedless manner in which he squanders her unquestioning loyalty. But after the initial anguish she finds new strength – in her womanhood when she embraces a tender but illicit relationship with a village outcast; in her role as a fiercely protective mother, and, eventually, in a compassionate humanity towards her frail and battered co-wife and needy stepchildren. The story also poignantly explores Menoka’s troubled but ultimately redemptive relationship with Indro, her firstborn son, who is unwittingly exposed to a bewildering world of adult complexities and feels compelled to leave the village.

Discover the original psychological thriller as a sleep-deprived young mother struggles to stay sane, from author of Waterstones Thriller of the Month, Uncle Paul. 'A lost masterpiece.' Peter Swanson 'A slow-burning chill of a read by a master of suspense.' Janice Hallett 'Sinister, witty and utterly compelling. A genius.' Nicola Upson 'The grandmother of psycho-domestic noir; Britain's Patricia Highsmith.' Sunday Times Louise would give anything - anything - for a good night's sleep. Forget the girls running errant in the garden and bothering the neighbours. Forget her husband who seems oblivious to it all. If the baby would just stop crying, everything would be fine. Or would it? What if Louise's growing fears about the family's new lodger, who seems to share all of her husband's interests, are real? What could she do, and would anyone even believe her? Maybe, if she could get just get some rest, she'd be able to think straight . . . WINNER OF THE 1960 EDGAR AWARD FOR BEST MYSTERY NOVEL

Before Dawn He cried so loud. He cried so sad. During his birth, his mother almost lost her life trying to save his. There were so many complications that some people said he would have been better off if he had been still born, rather than to have lived. He was an ugly baby. He cried a lot when strangers held him. They outwardly scorned him, and they secretly abused him. A big brown medicine ball worn over his bulging naval caused him to be cut off from his little friends much of the time. He grew up in a kind, loving, and faithful sharecropper family. But he saw suffering in his family early. When he was just six years old, his family was thrust out of their home and cast into the wilderness. This happened because his parents tried to make progress. They tried to buy some land and break the sharecroppers curse from the family. The wilderness living experience was tough. His mother's faithful prayers helped the family to cope; the barren land, the creeks, the woods, the wild animals, the things that crawled the earth. Meeting miss Dolly, a scary but sad woman, and seeing his brother dangling over fast moving water after falling off the foot log were terrifying experiences for him. Could he pull himself up by his bootstraps? Well, he started a self-assessment program in seventh grade. He left home at age sixteen hitch hiking, down a long, lonely, dangerous highway. He was searching for a schoolhouse.