Jojo Moyes, author of bestsellers like The Giver of Stars and Me Before You has a new book coming.
Her latest, We All Live Here, (out Feb. 11), follows Lila Kennedy, whose life is falling apart just like her house. Nothing is going her way, from her family to her job to her love life. So when her dad — who she hasn’t seen since he left the family to try his luck in Hollywood 35 years ago — shows up, it feels like the straw that broke the proverbial camel. But maybe a second chance at forgiveness is exactly what she needs.
“We All Live Here is a comedy about a messy dysfunctional family in the midst of coping with death and divorce, and what happens when a figure from everybody’s past turns up and shakes it all up further,” Moyes tells PEOPLE in an exclusive statement.
The PEOPLE Puzzler crossword is here! How quickly can you solve it? Play now!
“I wanted to write about a family that didn’t resemble the traditional, as so many families now don’t,” the author continued. “But it’s also about unexpected bonds, forgiveness and how love comes in many forms, even wearing an age-inappropriate Grateful Dead T-shirt. I loved writing this book and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”
Never miss a story — sign up for PEOPLE’s free daily newsletter to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer , from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories.
Below, read an exclusive excerpt that introduces Lila and some of her struggles.
The emergency plumber had sucked his teeth, pulled up four floorboards and apparently discovered the leak in the soil pipe. He had drained the cistern, informed her that she would need a whole new system – “Mind you, I can’t imagine you want to hang on to that bathroom suite too much longer. I’ve got grandparents younger than that is” — drunk two cups of sweet tea and charged her 380 pounds. She had started calling it the Mercedes tax. Any tradesman would see the overpriced vintage sports car lurking on the drive and immediately add 25 percent to whatever invoice they had prepared.
“So that’s what was causing the blockage?” Lila had said, tapping out the pin number of her credit card and trying not to calculate the damage that would do to this month’s budget.
“Nah. Must be something else,” he had said. “You can’t use it, though, obviously. And all the bathroom plumbing will have to be reinstalled. You might want to replace some of those floorboards while you’re at it. I can push my thumb through them.”
Bill had put a calloused hand on her shoulder as she closed the door behind the man. “It’ll all work out,” he said, and squeezed lightly. This was what, for Bill, passed as deep emotional support. “I can help, you know.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, turning to him brightly. “I’m fine. All good.” He had sighed gently, then turned and headed stiffly to his room.
Bill had lived with them for nine months now, having moved in shortly after her mother’s death. Being Bill, it wasn’t that he had been found sobbing hysterically or starving or letting the house go to ruin. He had just retreated quietly into himself, becoming a smaller and smaller version of the upright former furniture-maker she had known for three decades until he seemed like a shadow presence. “I just miss her,” he would say, when she turned up for tea, bustling round, trying to inject some energy into the too-still rooms.
“I know, Bill,” she would say. “I miss her too.”
The fact was, Lila hadn’t been coping well either. She had been in shock when Dan had announced he was leaving. When she finally found out about Marja, she realized Dan simply leaving had been a whisper of a blow, a thing that had barely touched her, compared to this. She had barely slept for the first six months, her mind a toxic whirlwind of finally drawing threads together, of recriminations, dread and cold fury, a million unspoken arguments in her head — arguments that Dan always managed somehow to evade: “Not in front of the children, Lila, eh?”
And then, just months later, even this had been dwarfed by the sudden death of Francesca. So when she suggested Bill move in for a bit they were both at pains to assure each other that this was really to help Lila with the girls, to provide a bit of practical help while she adjusted to single parenting.
Bill kept the bungalow, heading off most days to work in his neat shed at the end of the garden, where he mended neighbors’ chairs and sanded replacement stair spindles to stop Lila’s children falling through the gaps in the banisters at Lila’s house. Neither of them discussed when he was going to move home.
It wasn’t as though having him there got in the way of Lila’s life (what life?), and Bill’s gentle presence gave what remained of their little family a much-needed sense of stability and continuity. An anchor for their vainly bobbing little rowing-boat, which felt, most days, slightly leaky and unstable and as if they had abruptly and without warning found themselves adrift on the high seas.
From WE ALL LIVE HERE by Jojo Moyes, to be published on February 11, 2025 by Pamela Dorman Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2025 by Jojo’s Mojo Limited.
We All Live Here by Jojo Moyes comes out Feb. 11 and is available for preorder now, wherever books are sold.
Read the full article here
