– ‘The Magic of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –
Today I’m on the ‘Life Ruins’ blogtour, organized by Zooloo’s Book Tours.
To promote this book I have an excerpt, but before I let you read it first some ‘basic’ information.
About the Author :
Danuta Kot (who also writes as Danuta Reah and as Carla Banks) grew up with stories. Her Irish mother and her Polish father kept their own cultures alive with traditional tales they shared with their children. For many years, she worked with young people in Yorkshire who were growing up in the aftermath of sudden industrial decline. She uses this background in her books to explore some of the issues that confront modern, urban society: poverty, alienation and social breakdown, using the contexts of the modern crime novel. She now works as a senior education consultant, work that involves travel to establish education and training in other parts of the world. She is a regular academic speaker at conferences and literary festivals and has appeared on radio and television.
In a small northern town, girls are disappearing.
You won’t see it in the papers and the police aren’t taking any notice, but the clues are there if you know where to look.
Becca sees that something is wrong, but she’s been labelled ‘difficult’ thanks to her troubled past. So when a girl is so savagely beaten she can’t be identified, and Becca claims she knows who she is, no one will believe her.
With the police refusing to listen, Becca digs for evidence that will prove what she is saying. But her search for justice will put herself and those closest to her in danger – and once she finds the truth, will anyone even listen?
Jared sees something in the tunnel that has a profound effect on his life
The light of his torch wavered and danced and he tried to get his balance.
In front of him, the ladder led upwards into darkness. Was he going up there? Or was the risk too great? He gripped it, and it held steady.
No excuses left.
He eased himself upright, holding onto the rungs. He could feel the relief as the muscles in his back straightened. He shone the torch upwards, but all he could see was an opening and dimly above it, the red clay of bare soil.
Slowly, moving as cautiously as he could, he put a foot on the first rung, part of him expecting it to snap under his weight and plunge him…. He brought his mind back to the present and focused on what he was doing as he pulled himself up – no slips, no sudden jerks to break the fragile wood – then onto the next one, and the next. He shone the torch at the opening again.
He could see more detail now. The opening was partly blocked to one side – a roof fall? And there was something touching the top of the ladder like a piece of cloth of some kind. Something left by a climber? Why? He tested it with a gentle tug.
And the ladder shifted. He gripped it with both hands, trying to keep his hold on the torch as well. He felt the precursor of the collapse as soil scattered onto his head and shoulders. Moving by instinct he freed his feet from the rungs and slid down the ladder, rubble from the roof cascading with him. His feet hit the ground sending a shaft of agony through him. He had to move fast, to get out of there before the roof came down on his head, but his arm, his legs, felt numb. The torch dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers and he slumped to his knees in total blackness as the rush of stone and soil cascaded down.
The Magic of Wor(l)ds