Lost Hope
Published: June 1, 2026
Description
It starts with a bite on a fence line in Tierra del Fuego, before anyone has words
for what is coming. Lost Hope follows a cast of survivors across a collapsing world
— from the ranches of Argentina to checkpoints in Europe, from the corridors of
power to the roads where ordinary people are simply trying to get home. Part
apocalypse novel, part character study, with a hard rock soundtrack running beneath
every chapter, it is a book about darkness worth naming and the stubborn persistence
of people who refuse to stop transmitting.
for what is coming. Lost Hope follows a cast of survivors across a collapsing world
— from the ranches of Argentina to checkpoints in Europe, from the corridors of
power to the roads where ordinary people are simply trying to get home. Part
apocalypse novel, part character study, with a hard rock soundtrack running beneath
every chapter, it is a book about darkness worth naming and the stubborn persistence
of people who refuse to stop transmitting.
Back Cover
It starts with a bite on a fence line in Tierra del Fuego, before anyone has words for what is coming.
*Lost Hope* follows the spread and the human response — from the ranches of southern Argentina in the first weeks, to the checkpoints at the edges of Europe three months later, to the corridors of governments making decisions that will be wrong in ways they cannot yet see, to the roads where ordinary people are simply trying to get home. The cast is wide and specific: a veterinarian who identifies the pathogen before the labs do; a radio operator in the Falklands who keeps transmitting when everyone else has gone dark; a mother in Lyon who has walked two hundred kilometres and is not stopping; a politician who knows the right thing to do and cannot make himself do it.
Beneath every chapter, a hard rock soundtrack — the music people reached for when words ran out, when the news was too loud and the road was too long and the only thing left was to turn up the volume and keep moving.
*Lost Hope* is not an optimistic book. It is an honest one. The darkness is named precisely because it is worth naming. And the people who keep transmitting — who refuse to stop — are not heroes. They are just people who decided that stopping was worse.
That is, it turns out, enough.
*"Apocalypse fiction that earns its ending
by never looking away from what it costs."*
*Lost Hope* follows the spread and the human response — from the ranches of southern Argentina in the first weeks, to the checkpoints at the edges of Europe three months later, to the corridors of governments making decisions that will be wrong in ways they cannot yet see, to the roads where ordinary people are simply trying to get home. The cast is wide and specific: a veterinarian who identifies the pathogen before the labs do; a radio operator in the Falklands who keeps transmitting when everyone else has gone dark; a mother in Lyon who has walked two hundred kilometres and is not stopping; a politician who knows the right thing to do and cannot make himself do it.
Beneath every chapter, a hard rock soundtrack — the music people reached for when words ran out, when the news was too loud and the road was too long and the only thing left was to turn up the volume and keep moving.
*Lost Hope* is not an optimistic book. It is an honest one. The darkness is named precisely because it is worth naming. And the people who keep transmitting — who refuse to stop — are not heroes. They are just people who decided that stopping was worse.
That is, it turns out, enough.
*"Apocalypse fiction that earns its ending
by never looking away from what it costs."*