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Giveaway: Win a copy of Before I Let Go by @mariekeyn

12:25


Best friends Corey and Kyra were inseparable in their snow-covered town of Lost Creek, Alaska. When Corey moves away, she makes Kyra promise to stay strong during the long, dark winter, and wait for her return.

Just days before Corey is to return home to visit, Kyra dies. Corey is devastated--and confused. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones about the town's lost daughter, saying her death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she's a stranger.

Corey knows something is wrong. With every hour, her suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets--chilling secrets. But piecing together the truth about what happened to her best friend may prove as difficult as lighting the sky in an Alaskan winter...

Giveaway:

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Blog Tour: Read an extract from Close to Home by @CaraHunterBooks

10:48



HOW CAN A CHILD GO MISSING WITHOUT A TRACE?

Last night, eight-year-old Daisy Mason disappeared from a family party. No one in the quiet suburban street saw anything - or at least that's what they're saying.

DI Adam Fawley is trying to keep an open mind. But he knows the nine times out of ten, it's someone the victim knew.

That means someone is lying...
And that Daisy's time is running out.

Buy the book: UK/ IRE | US 

Read an Extract:

Interview with Fiona Webster, conducted at
11 Barge Close, Oxford
20 July 2016, 7.45 a.m.
In attendance, DC V. Everett

VE: Can you tell us how you know the Masons,
Mrs Webster?
FW: My daughter Megan is in the same class as
Daisy at Kit’s, and Alice is the year above.
VE: Kit’s?
FW: Sorry – Bishop Christopher’s. Everyone round
here just calls it Kit’s. And we’re
neighbours, of course. We lent them the
gazebo for the party.
VE: So you’re friends?
FW: I wouldn’t say ‘friends’ exactly. Sharon
keeps herself to herself. We talk at the
school gate, like you do, and sometimes I
go jogging with her. But she’s far more
disciplined about it than I am. She goes
every morning, even in the winter, after
she drops off the kids at school. She’s
worried about her weight – I mean she
hasn’t actually said so, but I can tell. We
had lunch once in town – more by accident
than anything - we bumped into each other
outside that pizza place on the High Street
and she couldn’t really say no. But she ate
next to nothing – just picked at a salad –
VE: So she doesn’t work, then, if she runs in
the mornings?
FW: No. I think she did once, but I don’t know
what. It’d drive me mad, being stuck indoors
all day, but she seems totally absorbed in
the kids.
VE: So she’s a good mum?
FW: I remember all she talked about at that
lunch was what great marks Daisy had got
for some test or other, and how she wants
to be a vet, and did I know which
university would be best for that.
VE: So a bit of a pushy parent?

Blog Tour: Read an Extract from The Evacuee Christmas by @KatieKingWrite @HQStories

08:00




Autumn 1939 and London prepares to evacuate its young. In No 5 Jubilee Street, Bermondsey, ten-year-old Connie is determined to show her parents that she’s a brave girl and can look after her twin brother, Jessie. She won’t cry, not while anyone’s watching.

In the crisp Yorkshire Dales, Connie and Jessie are billeted to a rambling vicarage. Kindly but chaotic, Reverend Braithwaite is determined to keep his London charges on the straight and narrow, but the twins soon find adventures of their own. As autumn turns to winter, Connie’s dearest wish is that war will end and they will be home for Christmas. But this Christmas Eve there will be an unexpected arrival…

 Buy the book: UK/ Ireland | USA 

Read an extract:



Chapter One



The shadows were starting to lengthen as twins Connie and Jessie made their way back home.

They felt quite grown up these days as a week earlier it had been their tenth birthday, and their mother Barbara had iced a cake and there’d been a raucous tea party at home for family and their close friends, with party games and paper hats. The party had ended in the parlour with Barbara bashing out songs on the old piano and everyone having a good old sing-song.

What a lot of fun it had been, even though by bedtime Connie felt queasy from eating too much cake, and Jessie had a sore throat the following morning from yelling out the words to ‘The Lambeth Walk’ with far too much vigour.

On the twins’ iced Victoria sponge Barbara had carefully piped Connie’s name in cerise icing with loopy lettering and delicately traced small yellow and baby-pink flowers above it.

Then Barbara had thoroughly washed out her metal icing gun and got to work writing Jessie’s name below his sister’s on the lower half of the cake.

This time Barbara chose to work in boxy dark blue capitals, with a sailboat on some choppy turquoise and deep-blue waves carefully worked in contrasting-coloured icing as the decoration below his name, Jessie being very sensitive about his name and the all-too-common assump- tion, for people who hadn’t met him but only knew him by the name ‘Jessie’, that he was a girl.

If she cared to think about it, which she tried not to, Barbara heartily regretted that Ted had talked her into giving their only son as his Christian name the Ross family name of Jessie which, as tradition would have it, was passed down to the firstborn male in each new generation of Rosses.

It wasn’t even spelt Jesse, as it usually was if naming a boy, because – Ross family tradition again – Jessie was on the earlier birth certificates of those other Jessies and in the family Bible that lay on the sideboard in the parlour at Ted’s elder brother’s house, and so Jessie was how it had to be for all the future Ross generations to come.

Ted had told Barbara what an honour it was to be called Jessie, and Barbara, still weak from the exertions of the birth, had allowed herself to be talked into believing her husband.

She must have still looked a little dubious, though, as then Ted pointed out that his own elder brother Jessie was a gruff-looking giant with huge arms and legs, and nobody had ever dared tease him about his name. It was going to be just the same for their newborn son, Ted promised.
 Buy the book: UK/ Ireland | USA 

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