Milk, Bread, Teeth, Amy Twigg’s electrifying new novel, is a work of literary body horror in the vein of Nightbitch and Milk Fed, with the dark social critique of The Substance.

Lena’s body is no longer her own. It is occupied by a growing appetite, a hunger that demands to be fed. From inside her luxury apartment, Lena tries to appease it by gorging herself, day and night. Whole loaves of bread, protein shakes—tins of cat food if all else fails.

When Joan, an actress on the cusp of stardom, moves into the apartment above, Lena is quick to make friends. She soon finds herself in Joan’s orbit, enjoying the trappings of wealth and privilege, the kind she has always pined for. But with the hunger demanding more and more, Lena’s carefully constructed image of herself starts to unravel. And as her appetite veers into the inedible, she must fight to remember who she is.

Milk, Bread, Teeth is an unflinching exploration of dissatisfaction and disparity, a deliciously grim and transgressive tale that draws the reader into a frenzy of insatiable desire and consumption. It’s a propulsive, eerie novel inspired by Amy’s experiences with chronic illness and her place in publishing as a working-class woman.