#BlogTour #ZooloosBookTours @zooloo2008 / #Excerpt : Someone Who Isn’t Me #SomeoneWhoIsntMe – Danuta Kot @DanutaJR @simonschusterUK #SimonAndSchuster

– ‘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 ‘Someone Who Isn’t Me’ 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.

Website
Facebook
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Synopsis :

When everyone hides the truth, who do you turn to?
Becca’s had a hard time of it, but she has finally got her life together. She has a nice little flat, a steady job pulling pints, and she’s even seeing someone new: Andy, who keeps his private life to himself but is always good for a laugh. And then Andy vanishes. When his body turns up on isolated Sunk Island, Becca learns Andy wasn’t just another punter. He was a police officer, deep undercover, investigating a drugs ring that he believed operated out of Becca’s pub.
Staggered by the betrayal, Becca turns to the only person she thinks she can trust: her foster mum, Kay. But Kay has problems of her own. She’s just moved into a short-term let in the hopes of finding some peace and quiet. But peace and quiet are hard to come by on Sunk Island . . .
Before long, both women are drawn into a terrifying world of drugs, money and death.

Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt :

Kay hears something in the night, outside her isolated house near the Humber Estuary

Her hand hesitated over the light switch. If she turned it on, the light would blaze out saying clearly, ‘I’m here.’ But wasn’t that what she wanted? If people knew the house was inhabited, they’d stay away.
If there was anyone out there.
Which there wasn’t.
She was pretty sure now she had been dreaming. Yes, Milo had barked but it didn’t take much to freak Milo out, especially in an unfamiliar place. He’d barked at the motor bikes earlier. That was probably what had woken her up.
She’d always dealt matter-of-factly with teenage night terrors, and now she tried to deal the same way with herself. It was a dream. It was something outside in the road. It had made her uneasy, but it wasn’t anything to do with her. She filled the kettle and plugged it in, taking a clean mug from the draining board and getting a bottle of milk out of the fridge. A cup of tea, then back to bed. She checked her watch again. Three-thirty.
Milo was snuffling around, back to his usual self. Kay poured boiling water on a tea bag and left it to brew for a minute.
And then she jumped, knocking the milk bottle over. White liquid flooded the table.
Milo let out a sharp, sudden bark.
Footsteps. Outside. She could hear them clearly, faint but getting louder as they came closer.
Coming straight towards the back door.
Kay froze, her heart hammering. Her gaze locked on the door handle. Could she see it… was it moving, or was she…?
Milo barked again, a sharp, high-pitched sound.
And the steps moved past the door and faded away.
Kay sank down into her chair, trying to catch her breath. She should open the door, shine the torch into the night and find out who was out there, because no one had the right to be.
But she couldn’t.
The rain was beating harder against the window. She tried to pick up the milk container and screw the top back on but her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t do it.
Come on.
So someone was out there. They’ve seen the light and they’ve gone.
Gradually, the shaking stopped. She grabbed a towel and put it on the table to soak up the spilt milk, and picked up her mug. There was just the sound of the rain now, and she was beginning to think she must have been hearing things. Why would anyone be walking round the house in the small hours, in this kind of weather?
The best thing to do would be to go back to bed and ignore all the night time noises. Old houses were full of weird sounds – she should know that.
She used her hands on the table to push herself to her feet. She was tired, she’d been deeply asleep and when you were woken up suddenly it was easy to mistake…
The breath stopped in her throat.
They were back, the footsteps.

The Magic of Wor(l)ds

#BlogTour #ZooloosBookTours @zooloo2008 / #Excerpt : Life Ruins #LifeRuins – Danuta Kot @DanutaJR @simonschusterUK #SimonAndSchuster

– ‘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.

Website
Facebook
Twitter

Synopsis :

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?

Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt :

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