This sensational 1941 memoir of life on wartime Europe's frontline by a trailblazing female reporter is an 'unforgettable' (The Times) rediscovered classic, introduced by Christina Lamb. Paris as it fell to the Nazis London on the first day of the Blitz Berlin the day Germany invaded Poland Madrid in the Spanish Civil War Prague during the Munich crisis Lapland as the Russians attacked Moscow betrayed by the Germans Virginia Cowles has seen it all. As a pioneering female correspondent, she reported from the frontline of 1930s Europe into WWII always in the right place at the right time. Flinging off her heels under shellfire; meeting Hitler ('an inconspicuous little man'); gossiping with Churchill by his goldfish pond; dancing in the bomb-blasted Ritz ... Introduced by Christina Lamb, Cowles' incredible dispatches make you an eyewitness to the twentieth century as you have never experienced it before. 'A tour-de-force.' Daily Mail 'Amazingly brilliant.' New York Times 'Fascinating.' Justine Picardie 'Breathtaking.' Anna Funder 'Thrilling.' Sue Prideaux 'A long-overlooked classic that could not be timelier or more engrossing.' Paula McLain 'One of the best memoirs of war reporting ever written.' Caroline Moorehead What readers are saying: The queen of historical name-dropping Holy cow! What a wonderful find!! Most unexpectedly great book that I have read in years. Reads like a novel [but] this is real life. The best book I've read this year ... Exquisitely written [day-to-day] drama of history ... Breathtakingly fresh. I can't recommend this book enough. Cowles' voice and humanity are her greatest assets, but her willingness to be where the action was - and always find trouble - paid off. A marvel. Her ability to capture anecdotes and dialogue that offer surprising insights into historic personages and events is a frequent source of wonder. It was difficult for me not to drive my family crazy wanting to read them quotes. The intrepid Virginia Cowles was in the right places at the right times and connected to the right people. What a life she led!

First published in June 1941, the original hardback blurb is worth quoting. 'Miss Virginia Cowles has modestly entitled this account of four years as a roving journalist ''Looking for Trouble''. Never was a search more amply rewarded. She has found trouble in Spain - behind the barricades in Madrid, and among the polyglot armies of General Franco. She has found in Russia, in Germany, in Czecho-Slovakia at the time of Munich, in Roumania during the Polish war, in Finland throughout the Finnish war, In Italy during the ''lull'', in Paris a few hours before the Germans moved in, in London during the ''blitz''. Whether this is a world's record in successful trouble-hunting her publishers do not presume to say.' The question must still be left unanswered but it is unlikely that any other journalist in the five crucial years from 1935 to 1940 was so often in the right place at the right time. Anne Sebba devotes a chapter to Virginia Cowles in her Battling for News (also Faber Finds) and writes, 'For Virginia getting to the top man in any situation was both important in itself and valuable for smoothing her path whenever she might need help.' In short, she was blessed with the sort of chutzpah that could secure an interview with Mussolini (browbeating and insecure at the same time) and make sure she was on the last plane in or out of the latest hotspot.

To return to the original blurb, 'It is Miss Cowles' outstanding merit that she is magnificently capable of writing a book. Her journalist's eye never fails her; her lucid, human, humorous style is never at a loss. This is a book to which the old clich¿ 'never a dull line' can be honestly applied. It is as good a first-hand account of the mad world of Hitler's Europe as is ever likely to come off the printing press. And there is something oddly fitting and perhaps prophetic, in the fact that a woman should have written it.'

Looking for Trouble is a tour de force fully deserving to be reissued on the 100th anniversary of the author's birth.