American tycoons George Gillett and Tom Hicks have reached an agreement to take over Liverpool.
The club have called a news conference at 1400 GMT to announce the details of the buy-out.
Liverpool chairman David Moores, who will become an honorary life president, said: "This is a great step forward for its shareholders and its fans."
Moores added: "This club is my passion and forms a huge part of my life. After much careful consideration, I have agreed to sell my shares to assist in securing the investment needed for the new stadium and for the playing squad.
…Liverpool will become the third Premiership side to come under the control of American owners, following the takeovers of Manchester United and Aston Villa in recent years.
…A joint statement from Gillett and Hicks said: "Liverpool is a fantastic club with a remarkable history and a passionate fanbase. We fully acknowledge and appreciate the unique heritage and rich history of Liverpool and intend to respect this heritage in the future. The Hicks family and the Gillett family are extremely excited about continuing the club's legacy and tradition. We are particularly pleased that David Moores and Rick Parry will have a continuing involvement in the club. For us continuity and stability are keys to the future."
I am discombobulated. I’ve seen the future of top-flight English football, and it is a European Super League owned by Americans.
Even a few years ago I would have been unreservedly welcoming of the prospect of Liverpool getting all that spondoolicks to spend on shiny new players. I might even have half-believed that stuff about "we fully acknowledge and appreciate the unique heritage and rich history of Liverpool and intend to respect this heritage in the future."
But instead I find myself jittery with fear of the future, and swamped in nostalgia. How did we start caring about exploiting the lucrative Asian market and maximising revenue streams? It crept up on us. But it crept up on us really quickly. I feel ill. Stop! Turn back the tide! I want FA Cup Saturdays, cups of Bovril, hand-knitted scarfs, small boys in the park, jumpers for goalposts…