The third installment in Adam Mansbach's international best-selling Go the Fuck to Sleep series addresses, with radical honesty, the family implosion that occurs when a second child arrives “If you’re a fan of both Larry David and profane children’s book parodies, don’t even try to curb your f*cking enthusiasm.” ―Kirkus Reviews Adam Mansbach famously gave voice to two of parenting’s primal struggles in Go the Fuck to Sleep and You Have to Fucking Eat―the often-imitated, never-duplicated pair of New York Times best sellers that ushered in a new era of radical honesty in humor books for parents. But what could possibly be left? Parents―new, old, expectant, and grand―of multiple children already knew the answer. Adam discovered it for himself by having two more kids, less than two years apart. Fuck, Now There Are Two of You is a loving monologue about the new addition to the family, addressed to a big sibling and shot through with Adam’s trademark profane truth-telling. Gorgeously illustrated and chock-full of unspoken sentiments channeled directly from the brains of parents worldwide, Fuck, Now There Are Two of You articulates all the fears and frustrations attendant to the simple, math-defying fact that two is a million more kids than one. As you probably know by now, you shouldn’t read it to a child. Full color illustrations throughout

In this brilliant, inventive, tragic farce, Deborah Levy creates the ultimate dysfunctional kids, Billy and his sister Girl. Apparently abandoned years ago by their parents, they now live alone somewhere in England. Girl spends much of her time trying to find their mother, going to strangers' doors and addressing whatever Prozac woman who answers as "Mom." Billy spends his time fantasizing a future in which he will be famous, perhaps in the United States as a movie star, or as a psychiatrist, or as a doctor to blondes with breast enlargements, or as the author of "Billy England's Book of Pain." Together they both support and torture each other, barely able to remember their pasts but intent on forging a future that will bring them happiness and reunite them with the ever-elusive Mom. Billy and Girl are every boy and girl reeling from the pain of their childhoods, forgetting what they need to forget, inventing worlds they think will be better, but usually just prolonging nightmares as they begin to create--or so it seems--alternative personalities that will allow them to survive and conquer and punish. In the end, the reader is as bewildered as Billy and Girl--have they found Mom and a semblance of family, or are they completely out of control and ready to explode?

From a small, bogside cabin in rural New England, 38-year-old Aimee Slater unravels the story of her life, attempting to make sense of the tangled thread that leads from her mother's house-a short, unbridgeable distance away-to the world she now inhabits. It is soon after the Civil War; Aimee lives alone, but is graced with visits from two friends, a crippled man and a troubled eleven-year-old girl. She is perpetually caught between the sensual world she so desires and the divine retribution passed down to her by her mother's scorn. How Aimee ultimately creates a life for herself and bridges that distance makes for a moving story of love and loss. Told in a voice of spare New England lyricism, Unravelling is a remarkably haunting account of the power of redemption.