An unexpected phone call – and Nina’s life takes a disturbing twist. Who is John Moore? And how does he know her name?
Nina travels south to see the house she inherited, but sinister letters arrive and she finds herself in the middle of a police investigation. With her identity called into question, Nina uncovers a shocking crime. But what, exactly, happened in the attic room, all those years ago? The answer could lie close to home.
The arrival of her ten-year-old daughter compounds Nina’s problems, but her tormentor strikes before she can react. Searching for the truth about the Moore family puts both Nina and her child into grave danger.
A fast-moving, chilling suspense novel.
Genre: FICTION / CrimeAfter publication (2015), the book ranked in the top 300 in the UK Kindle store for several weeks, and won two All-Star bonuses. It did very well in the US too, rankings unknown. At its peak (summer 16) it was selling around 2000 copies a month plus around 1m page reads. in the past 12 months, sales were around 200-400 a month, with average page reads over 100K monthly. It does well in KU on promotion.
The house was empty without Claire.
Nina made coffee and took a mug out to the bench in front of the farmhouse. From here she could see right across the Firth of Clyde to the mainland, a mere fuzzy line in the distance today. The lunchtime ferry was inching out from behind the neighbouring Holy Isle, and the hills of Arran behind her separated a perfect summer sky from the sea. And the beauty of it all made a mockery of the fact that, two weeks ago today, she had switched off her mother’s life support system and banished Claire into eternal peace. Far away from home.
Nina shivered. The world had changed, and it wasn’t going to change back. For the zillionth time the lump in her throat expanded and dear God, how painful it was. Hot coffee slopped over shaking fingers, and Nina winced. She would never get used to this brave new world of hers. It was so bloody unfair – what had Claire ever done to deserve such a horrible death? Nina scrubbed her face with her sleeve. They’d been happy, her and Claire and Naomi. Three generations in one house didn’t work for everyone but it had suited them.
The sound of the landline trilling into the farmhouse kitchen jolted her back to today. Another query about accommodation, no doubt, and Beth wasn’t here to answer it. Thrusting out her chin, Nina forced herself to her feet.
The voice on the phone was English and brisk. ‘Ms Moore, good afternoon. My name’s Samuel Harrison and I’m your father’s lawyer. Mr Moore contacted us through the nursing staff yesterday afternoon, and requested that we call you. He wants to resume contact – I gather you’ve been out of touch for many years.’
For a moment Nina struggled to find the right words. ‘I suppose you could call it that – my father died when I was three. You must have got hold of the wrong Nina Moore.’
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