DIARY OF A CURSED VILLAGE

Welcome to Lesser Tipping-on-the-Wold: one pub, three churches, more cows than sense, and a brand-new doctor who is deeply, profoundly unqualified for any of it.

It's 1916, and Dr. Jonathan Percival Ashworth has been handed the keys to an entire village's bloodstream — armed with a stolen stethoscope, a flask of gin, and an optimism that dies roughly by lunchtime on day one. What follows is his daily diary: a gin-soaked, foul-mouthed, gloriously absurd account of haunted furniture, passive-aggressive villagers, prophetic postboxes, a man who gives birth to a toaster, and livestock with opinions.

Part medical horror, part village soap opera, part slow nervous breakdown, Diary of a Cursed Village is dark British comedy at its most unhinged — written for anyone who likes their humour dry, their satire savage, and their heroes barely holding it together.

Dip in anywhere. Read a single cursed day, have a proper laugh, and come back whenever the world gets too sensible. No need to read it cover to cover — the madness is waiting on every page.

For readers of wickedly funny, irreverent British comedy in the spirit of Blackadder and the great gallows-humour satirists.

Content note: contains strong language, crude humour, and adult themes. Not suitable for children, the easily offended, or your nan.