Shire Hell by Rachel Johnson

The main difference between real-life Rachel and her curvy, Aga-loving, fictional alter-ego, Mimi Malone, is that while she and her family have homes in London and Somerset, Mimi and hers have sold up to embrace full-time rural bliss in Dorset. And just as she dished the dirt on her Notting Hill "noov" neighbours, so she's at it again, describing the horrors of the Husky-wearing, hunt-loving, Land Rover-driving locals with devastating and malevolent accuracy.

"A dinner party basically means driving for two hours to meet exactly the same people, and talk about exactly the same things (you always meet the same people because if anyone gives a dinner party, word quickly gets around)," complains Mimi. "There's no book group, there's no yoga group, there's only the pudding club, the pub and the Women's Institute," she whinges.

On the plus side, though, Mimi says: "I love the grass, the mud, the fact that I have a view of the rest of Dorset and the sea from my bedroom window and I love drinking in the fresh and clean smell of the countryside, with its wholesome tangy topnote of manure." Other benefits include her friendship with Rose Musgrove, "Dorset's answer to Martha Stewart" (presumably pre-prison days), who makes a living from making chutneys and jams and plans to launch her own cheese.

Rose also loves sex, especially with men who aren't her husband. Her current interest is Jesse Marlon Bryanston, a delicious "raven-haired youth", and son of the local landowner, who has moved out of his father's pile into a self-built eco-dwelling, where she visits him and, in one scene, experiences a "mounting, Wagnerian crescendo" that will surely qualify for a Bad Sex Award. Johnson writes fluidly and has a sharp ear for dialogue, especially for the ghastly patois of English children, whose every sentence is prefaced with "like" and invariably delivered to their parents in tones of resentment. She also has a keen eye for detail — whether she's describing a toile de jouy curtain lined with cashmere, the latest spelt-based spa therapy or a gluten-free polenta cranberry shortbread, she's bang on, every time. I laughed out loud often, but then I don't have a house in the West Country.

Synopsis by Foyles.co.uk

Mimi and Ralph have left social climbing, pushy parenting and their marital problems behind them in London, and moved west to the bucolic green depths of the country. Or so they thought. Yes, there's mud and masses of fresh air, plenty of handsome hayseeds and there's Rose, Mimi's new best friend and Dorset's answer to Martha Stewart. But what should be Shire Heaven is, it turns out, just as tricky to navigate as Notting Hell. There's low-level conflict between the racehorses in vintage/Diesel/Ralph Lauren and the brood mares in Barbour/Boden, there's guerrilla warfare between the landowners and eco-warriers and naked hostility between Old Money, New Money and No Money.Yes, in honeybourne, if you don't have: a landscaped garden within 1000 acres (minimum) of prime land; a helipad for your trophy guests; an organic farm shop selling 16 sorts of home-made sausages; four pony-mad polo-playing children; a literary festival in your mini-stately; and, a bottom that looks smackable in jodhpurs, then, well...you're Mimi basically. And that's just the start of her problems. Mimi also has a secret. But can she keep it?