Here is the final choice of cover for Nine Lives…
Huge thank you’s to everyone who gave their opinion yesterday!
Death has been visiting Kate all of her life, leading her to imagine she has nine lives, like a cat.
With nothing to live for, no family or friends, just a brother she hates, she waits for Death to finally take her away when her lives run out.
Death continues to speak to her, teasing her, yet will not come for her.
But when people around her begin to die at the hands of a serial killer, she hopes to be next.
Has Kate finally run out of lives, or will she find a reason to live before it is too late?
Something dark was smeared all over the plastic flap. It looked like blood, dripping down the door into a puddle on the floor.
She didn’t want to look, but knew she must and edged closer. The blood seemed to be all on the inside, she would have to open the back door.
She reached out her hand, but it refused to grasp the handle or the key that was in the lock. She stood, frozen, for what seemed like an age. Desperately wanting to run away and knowing she couldn’t, not yet.
It began to filter through to her brain that someone had been in her flat again. Her stomach dropped to her knees, what if whoever it was, was still there, hiding somewhere?
She couldn’t do this. Her knees had turned to jelly and there was a real risk of her falling to the floor right where she stood. The smell of the blood was making her feel sick and she knew if she didn’t open the door soon, there was a great possibility she never would.
‘Get a grip, girl, what’s the matter with you?’ she said angrily, reaching out for the handle once again. This time she managed to unlock the door and open it, stifling a scream with both hands as she saw what was on the other side of the door.
There was more blood and a lot of blood-soaked silver fur scattered over the doorstep. She knew what it was, but there was nothing she could identify. Just bits and pieces as if he had been hacked to pieces.
She stood there staring, not knowing what to do, so she shut the door, hoping her brain would come up with some plan of action all on its own. She should start by checking the flat; although if she found anyone, she knew she could quite easily kill whoever it was. The shock was wearing off, being replaced by an incredible sadness and anger. Who could do such a thing to a defenceless animal, and more to the point, why? What reason could they possibly have?
The voice sarcastically remarked that the cat had run out of lives too.
What was all this nonsense about lives?