Today I am honoured to be able to share an extract of this exciting book – I can’t wait to review it!
Book Blurb: You’ve lost your memory. A woman has been murdered. Your husband is keeping secrets. How do you know who to trust?
Months after a being involved in a terrible car crash, Bryn Harper is physically healed but her emotional scars remain raw. She has no memory of the accident and is plagued with bad dreams.
When Bryn and her husband, Guy, host a dinner party Bryn swears money has been stolen while Guy seems unfazed. Bryn confronts the caterer that night and is horrified to discover the woman’s brutally slain body the next day.
As the case is investigated, Bryn is dragged into a fresh nightmare and learns that Guy is keeping things from her. Another murder occurs and Bryn realises the danger is getting ever closer to home. How well does Bryn really know the man she loves?
For fans of psychological suspense and compulsive mysteries, don’t miss this tense and page-turning novel. Before I Go to Sleep meets The Husband’s Secret.
Read an extract here….
I check email, diverting most of them to my assistant in New York to contend with, though I send off quick replies myself to friends inquiring how I’m doing, and one in response to my brother, Will, in his third year of working for a bank in Jakarta, promising more later. There are several requests for interviews and podcasts, which I politely decline, and two from my speaker’s bureau about well-paying gigs. These get nixed as well. Speaking to groups about the subjects of my books has always been a thrill for me, but I can’t fathom pulling that off right now.
My gaze falls to the icon for the proposal folder on my computer desktop. Maybe I should make another go at it before I fix dinner. But the mere thought makes my stomach tense. My phone rings, sparing me. It’s Casey, my agent, returning a call I made to her earlier.
‘How’s it going up there?’ she asks. ‘Have you seen what’s-his-name race yet? Seabiscuit?’
I laugh at her little joke. ‘Seabiscuit died in the nineteen forties. But they’ve got a big statue of him on the main street in town and I’ve petted it a couple of times.’
‘It sounds like you’re getting out and about.’
‘Yup, starting to.’ After working on three books together, I consider Casey a friend as well as a colleague. At forty-two, she’s only three years older than me and she’s always got my back, but I’ve been cautious about divulging too much to her about my situation. I’ve confessed that I’m in a bit of a slump. What I’ve never uttered to her is the phrase Dr. G used: acute stress reaction. Or maybe worse for Casey to hear: hopeless writer’s block.
‘Well, I bet a summer away will be great for you. The publisher asked for a meeting to discuss the paperback launch, but I told them they’ll have to do everything by phone for a while. You’re not planning to be back in the city, are you?’
‘No, not until September… By the way, do you know if they finally hired a replacement for Paul yet?’
There’s a beat before she answers.
‘Uh, I heard they promoted the guy who’s been filling in,’ she says.
‘Oh, good to know. He seems strong… Here’s the reason I called actually. I’ve been thinking of contacting Paul’s widow, Stephanie, and just wanted a second opinion on the idea. I’ve always felt so bad that I wasn’t able to attend the funeral.’
Maybe because of the dreams, Stephanie—who I’ve never met—has been on my mind even more these days. I keep thinking that a conversation could be beneficial for both of us, possibly help me from feeling so stuck.
‘You mean write her a letter? I thought you did that three months ago, after the accident.’
‘Yes, but I was thinking of having a talk with her.’
There is total silence on the other end. I glance at the screen to make sure the call hasn’t failed.
‘I don’t know,’ Casey says at last. ‘I heard she’s still reeling. Maybe now’s not the right time.’
‘Okay.’ Her answer actually surprises me, but I trust Casey’s instincts.
‘Before I let you go,’ she says, ‘do you mind if I nudge a little?’
Oh God, I should have realized this would happen if I answered her call.
‘They’re getting restless about the proposal. I’ve put them off a few times, and they’ve been understanding so far, but you’re under contract for another book and their patience is going to start to wear thin. You’ve made them a ton of money and they’re hungry for even more.’
‘Casey, there’s no way I can turn in a proposal any time soon. I… I haven’t even really started.’
‘Do you have an idea at least? A working title?’
‘How’s “Self-Help Author Fails to Help Self Write?”’
‘You really don’t have anything?’
She’s surely wondering why the woman who wrote the bestseller about choices can’t make a decision herself.
‘I have a germ, maybe.’
‘Okay, that’s really all you need to bide your time with. I know you like your proposals to be fairly fleshed out, but they’d be more than happy with five pages. It would reassure them. And it might even help kick things in gear for you.’
‘Um, that seems doable.’ In truth the idea makes my heart start to race so fast I can hear the blood pumping in my ears. ‘Can you give me two weeks?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
After we’ve said our good-byes, I rest my head on the desk, one cheek against the cool surface. How will I ever summon the energy for five pages? I don’t even know if I can stand the idea I’ve drummed up.
About the Author
Kate White is the New York Times bestselling author of twelve works of fiction: seven Bailey Weggins mysteries and five stand-alone psychological thrillers, including most recently, The Secrets You Keep. For fourteen years she was the editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan magazine, and though she loved the job (and the Cosmo beauty closet!), she decided to leave in late 2013 to concentrate on being a full-time author and speaker.
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