From today, 19th April to 25th, the second book of Jaye’s trilogy is #Free on Amazon. This is a brilliant book, well worth a read!
Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Last-Life-Introducing-detective-Thriller-ebook/dp/B017DNXBXE/
Kate Devereau wakes up in a hospital, unable to speak or move. Her brain has shut down, refusing to acknowledge her dark and disturbing past, concealing a web of painful secrets.
Michael Barratt brought her to the hospital, insisting that her ex-husband had tried to kill her. And from the state of him, had tried to kill him too. He had been searching for Kate for years, ever since their doomed love affair, only to discover someone else had been hunting her too.
With the help of the DI David Snow, Kate will gradually piece her life back together, only to discover the nightmare is far from over.
Her first instinct is to run, but David Snow convinces her to stay and help him put an end to the nightmare. A nightmare that will get progressively worse before it gets better.
Haunted by his own demons, will the Snowman manage to catch the twisted killer?
Evil lurks in this story and people die, but amidst the tears and heartache, a lost love struggles to survive…
Kate sat at the table in the Vestry with her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe Jack had found her again, in spite of all the Snowman’s security. She kept seeing the ivory roses, Michael’s blood dripping from the petals, laid on the altar like an offering. Only Jack could have thought of something that macabre. The blood reminded her of what had happened to her beloved Dylan, her silver tabby. Jack had ripped him apart in her kitchen, strewing blood and fur all over the floor for her to find. At least this time, she wouldn’t have to clean up the mess.
Why had Michael gone outside?
She knew he was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that their relationship was over. After all this time it must have been a bitter pill to swallow. But going against David Snow’s specific orders was foolish and irresponsible. Maybe his depression had grown bad enough to warrant taking such a risk. Or had he wanted to die?
The voice in her head disapproved. ‘I did ask you to try and be kind to Michael, Kate. Even though you couldn’t love him, you, of all people, should have treated him better than that…’
It was true; she could remember feeling that bad. Jack had that effect on most people. Just knowing he was out there somewhere had made her suicidal in the past, and the feeling wasn’t too far away at the moment.
The Snowman should have let her see Michael, her imagination couldn’t be worse than the real thing. Right then, it didn’t seem real, and she kept expecting to see him come through the door at any minute. She wished with all her heart that she had run away the first time she suspected Jack was back on the scene. Michael’s sudden reappearance had reawakened all her old desires and dreams, rendering her incapable of thinking straight.
Fate was too cruel. Why had it conspired to bring Jack back into her life at that particular time? If he hadn’t arrived when he did, her brother would not have died, and the chain of destruction would have broken. She wanted to run away but suspected there was no point. Jack would find her wherever she went. The knowledge sunk in that none of them were safe anymore if they ever were. What would it take to be rid of Jack for good?
Kate heard the door open but realised the noise had come from the wrong side of the room. As she raised her head to investigate, a damp, sweet-smelling cloth covered her face. She struggled against it, but he was too strong. The room went dark and then faded away.
When Kate opened her eyes again several hours later, she was lying on a bed in what looked like a bedroom. It seemed familiar somehow as if she had been there before. Her memories stirred, and she began to recognise the bare walls and drab carpet, the austerity and soulless quality. It was or had been her son’s bedroom, the sad little room he had died in. On that morning, so long ago now, she had come to wake him for school. She found him lying on a pillow stained with vomit, and his skin felt cold. Too cold, she thought, pulling him into her arms to warm him. When she realised her son was dead, her hatred for Jack Holland finally overflowed, and she ran screaming from the house. The house Jack had bought for her, where her dreams had died along with her son. How cruel to bring her back here, to remind her of everything he had done to her.