Shadow Dance

Angela Carters writing is pyrothechnic -fuelled with ideas, packed with images and spangling the night with her starry languageOBSERVER

The boldest of English writers LORNA SAGE

A great writer . . . A real one-off SALMAN RUSHDIE

The scar drew her whole face sideways and even in profile, with the hideous thing turned away, her face was horribly lop-sided, skin, features and all, dragged away from the bone. She was a beautiful girl, a white and golden girl, like moonlight on daisies, a month ago.

And yet the men still hover around her, more out of curiosity than lust, and none more so than the wildly seductive, dangerous funny man, Honeybuzzard; lithe as a stick of liquorice, he is the demonic puppet master at the swirling centre of the tale.

Carters heady first novel introduces one of her most enigmatic characters. Honeybuzzard spends his nights scavenging the contents of abandoned buildings and his days seducing and tormenting lovers, enemies, and friends. He and his best friend Morris scour the backstreets of London, leaving behind a trail of destruction in the broken hearts and dashed hopes of those they love, manipulate, and ultimately discard.