Jennifer Barclay Books
(and more)
An Island Home and a Salty Dog
Published in June 2026
Jen finds a home on the little Greek island of Tilos for herself and her dog, surrounded by hills and sea. Empty for five years, the house is hidden by fig trees, the olive trees are damaged by goats, while a few bunches of grapes still hang on the vine.
Learning how to care for her home and garden, she seeks more ways to be part of the community and traditions. Meanwhile, with walks to wild beaches, she embraces life with her canine friend.
An Island Home and a Salty Dog portrays small island life all year round as she dives deep into its nature, history and seasonal food, amid glorious sunsets and the sound of the waves.
Reader feedback:
‘Such a captivating book’ – Sharon
‘I love the simplicity and how everyday things become magical’ – Rose
‘There’s a wonderful flow of time and tide to it’ – Rich
‘You vibrate to the sea, to the wild clouds’ – John
‘I just read you latest book on the beach of Livadia last week. It was just as fantastic as your other books’ – Tone
‘We have been coming to the island for the last 35 years & learn so much more with each book you write. Thank you for your stories’ – Rebecca
‘The beautifully written stories are wonderful… really resonate’ – Rita
‘Loved reading your latest book… It was fantastic’ – Chris
Excerpt:
These quiet days are packed with little pleasures. In the evening, I’m at the kitchen sink washing dishes when I notice the glow of the moon start to appear behind the dark silhouette of the hill. I go outside and there’s streaky cloud across the sky, but stars appearing. The light behind the hill gathers intensity, streaks of cloud turning yellowish, pearly white – it’s coming… An impossibly bright sliver appears, so brilliant and radiant I turn my eyes away, a goddess rising between the peak and the castle, the ridge of the hill uneven and darkest black. The full moon finally rises and shows itself – then pops up like a little balloon.
In the morning, the wind has dropped and the sun comes up over the mountain, big and bright, bringing warmth. I’m soon out in the garden in a T-shirt and shorts. The red of the wild poppies is so intense they seem to glow. The earth damp, it’s easy to pull out weeds; it seems rich and fertile under the fig trees. Fresh leaves are growing on the small olive tree. The rocket is coming back – I replanted the seeds from the dried pods. I make imperceptible progress but by three I decide to take Lisa in the car and walk the path to Lethra, where I hear the trickle of the stream flowing.