Temperatures have plunged again here in the UK and the pavements have become slippery again.    Plus, internet connection poor again.

Meanwhile, I’m working on a third novel, a psychological thriller set around a stately hall, involving five music students.   The hall has a dark history and one of the students inadvertently reignites the past, leading to fatal consequences.  Five years later, central character Gavin and the other survivor of the hall Lucy find themselves in trouble.  Much of the story comes from Gavin’s perspective in the first person, but some sections are told from Lucy’s viewpoint using the third person. 

In the following sample, Lucy takes on the role of viewpoint character:

‘What’s this?’ she says to herself.

There, lying on the post mat in the hallway, is an A4 packet, hand delivered. She stops short. Glances around.

A photograph drops to the floor.

A photograph of herself, done in black and white.

There are five photos in the package, all of her. 

In one, the photographer has captured a shot of her in central Manchester on her way to a wine bar to meet a girl she knew from Uni. In another, she’s walking past the local church, reading an email on her phone. The next photograph shows her leaving a supermarket. The fourth has been taken near Manchester Piccadilly. In the final snap, she’s heading towards her local pub, talking hurriedly on her phone. The most frightening photograph of all, since the photographer has included the date the photograph at the bottom of the image and she remembers the occasion clearly, the clothes she wore that day….the day former music student Gavin called her back from London and they arranged to meet.

The stillness closes in, growing audible. That day, someone was following her, but she didn’t realise it. They know all about her and Gavin.  Although the stalking seems a recent thing, it has been going on for much longer in practice and the person has been tracking her movements for more than three months.

The landline phone rings, startling her.

She grabs the receiver.

Silence.

‘What do you want?’ she says.          

No answer.

She detects faint breathing in the background. 

Male breathing.

A man watching her, following her about.

Photographing her and editing the images in black and white.

Posting photo packages through the door of her flat. 

‘The police have been,’ she lies. ‘And they’re on to you.’

Silence.

Cruel, tormenting silence.  She hates silence, always has hated silence. How the person on the other end of the line understands the power of silence.

The caller hangs up.   

Meanwhile, my other two novels – Secrets by Lawrence Estrey and EggHead (teen fiction) – are available from Amazon in paperback and e-book. 

Check out the reviews for my debut novel Secrets.

Newspaper article on author.

Local musician publishes crime thriller

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