– ‘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 ‘Hit And Run’ blogtour, organized by Random Things Tours.
To promote this book I have an excerpt, but before I let you read it first some ‘basic’ information.
About the Author :
Maria Frankland’s life began at 40 when she escaped an unhappy marriage and began making a living from her own writing and becoming a teacher of creative writing.
The rich tapestry of life with all its turbulent times has enabled her to pour experience, angst and lessons learned into the writing of her novels and poetry.
She recognises that the darkest places can exist within family relationships and this is reflected in the domestic thrillers she writes.
She is a ‘born ‘n’ bred’ Yorkshirewoman, a mother of two and has recently found her own ‘happy ever after’ after marrying again.
Still in her forties, she is now going to dedicate the rest of her working life to writing books and inspiring other writers to also achieve their dreams too!
He took his dark secrets and lies to the grave…
Fiona keeps herself to herself – it is safer that way. She allows few people to get close, having learned the hard way that most have their own agendas.
Lowering her barriers and trusting her husband Rob, is a decision she has reason to regret. His indiscretions were coming to light even before the news of his hit and run killing one summer afternoon.
In the aftermath, blame and hostility is shown to her by many. The relationship with her mother is unravelling and she has shut herself away from any friends she once had. Who can she turn to? Who will believe her? Other than her son Jack and her father, there is nobody she can count on.
Can Fiona stay away from her oldest and most faithful friend, the bottle? Or is her life as over as her husband’s?
Only the truth of Rob’s untimely death can decide that.
All couples have issues, don’t they? Everyone has their ups and downs. That’s life. I’ll get through this. But how?
A bike ride usually calms me down. As I ride out of Otley towards Ilkley, I don’t feel the hill that normally challenges me. Today I’m at the top before I notice that my breathing is laboured.
On any other day, I would enjoy the freewheel down the other side, the summer air whooshing in my ears, impressive scenery as far as the eye can see.
I’m always grateful that I live around here. But today I don’t feel grateful for anything. The demons that have been chasing me have finally caught up.
I pedal faster, as though trying to escape them, glancing over my shoulder to see how far away the approaching vehicle is. I’ve got time to get around the narrow bend onto a straight and wider run. Give it room to get past me. I know this stretch well and enjoy getting my speed up. My tracker normally clocks me at forty miles an hour here. As I take the corner, I glance around again to the roar of the engine, now right behind me, the sound feeling as though it’s vibrating through my chest. The driver is not slowing and is not going around me.
I don’t know whether the sickening crunch is caused at the point of impact or as my body lands. Agonising pain shoots through me, and the world turns black.
The Magic of Wor(l)ds