An exuberantly imagined story of a father trying to shake off his criminal past, and his daughter's need for answers about her mother's death.

Bursting with imaginative exuberance, The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley by Hannah Tinti has been described as 'One part Quentin Tarantino, and one part Scheherazade' (Ann Patchett) and will appeal to fans of The Sisters Brothers or The Watchmaker of Filigree Street.

After years spent living on the run, Samuel Hawley moves with his teenage daughter Loo to Olympus, Massachusetts. There, in his late wife's hometown, Hawley finds work as a fisherman, while Loo struggles to fit in at school and grows curious about her mother's mysterious death. Haunting them both are twelve scars Hawley carries on his body, from twelve bullets in his criminal past - a past that eventually spills over into his daughter's present, until together they must face a reckoning yet to come.

Both a coming of age novel and a literary thriller, The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley explores what it means to be a hero, and the price we pay to protect the people we love.

Reviewed by Olivia at Angus & Robertson Bookworld:

Most coming of age novels don’t tend to feature grizzled, gun-toting fathers with crooked pasts and teenage girls with a penchant for violence, but The Twelve Lives of Samuel Hawley is quite unlike most coming of age novels. This is an exceptionally good thing.

Twelve Lives follows ex-con Samuel Hawley, a father running from the gaping hole left in his life by the mysterious death of his beloved wife with his prickly, yet strangely lovable daughter Loo in tow. With this book, award-winning author Hannah Tinti has crafted a tender story of grief and guilt, punctuated by the spikiness of adolescent womanhood. Over it all lies the spectre of Sam’s dangerous past, from which he and now Loo cannot ever seem to escape unscathed. The overhanging threat of danger and violence becomes an unlikely, yet masterful backdrop to Loo’s discovery of adulthood, and it makes this book an intensely compelling read. Reading it is like poking a bruise; it hurts but it is strangely satisfying. I loved it!