I’m a huge animal lover, perhaps bears the most of all. Maybe it’s because, growing up, some of my favourite fictional characters were bears, from Winnie-the-Pooh to Paddington, Rupert to Bungle. Baloo. There’s something very comforting about them. Very familiar. Perhaps the main character in my next book could be a bear…
I’ve been visiting Hamerton Zoo Park since they first opened to the public and have seen how much they care, watched the conservation work they do, observed how they’ve grown over the past thirty years. I was super excited last January when they announced the arrival of 3 young bear cubs as part of a global project to restablish Syrian bears which are sadly extinct in Syria. As soon as lockdown restrictions lifted I went to visit them, admiring them from afar, thinking it was the closest I’d ever get. I was wrong.
For my birthday my husband, Tim, surprised me with a ‘feed the bear’ experience. And a few days ago we excitedly set off to do just that.
We were met by one of the bear keepers who led us through some locked gates, into the bear enclosure. At the first site of Laiko, Jaiko and Newton I was so overwhelmed I found myself close to tears. They were so adorable. So near I could reach out and touch them (I was told not to reach out and touch them).
For the first part of our adventure we loaded spoons with honey and peanut butter and let the bears lick it off. Now, I hand feed my cat sometimes and he is ferocious around food. With him, I worry I’ll lose a finger. Not with Laiko, Jaiko and Newton who sat patiently waiting for their turn. They were SO gentle. I accidentally dribbled honey onto the bars and they each licked it off, sharing it equally. The bond between these siblings is so touching.
Next, we were taken into the shed to choose some props for their enrichment. We picked some barrels and boxes. We filled the barrels with their favourite foods – nut, seeds, oranges, avocados and apples, with some dog biscuits for protein (apparently they also eat meat once a week and fish twice a week). We sealed the lids on the barrels, loaded everything into a wheelbarrow and then took it all into their main enclosure. We positioned the barrels near the fence so the waiting crowd would be able to see the bears close up. it felt a little odd and unsettling to be on the wrong side of the fence. The keepers told us that most of the animals enjoy watching the humans and were pleased when the park reopened after lockdown. Apparently we are just as entertaining to them.
After we’d laid out the barrels and boxes we walked around their enclosure and hid fruit and nuts behind trees and on top of lower branches so they had something to seek out. Then it was time for us to step out and the bears to have their lunch.
For the last part of our experience we were allowed to stand in front of the safety barrier so we could position our cameras to take photos without the bars in the way. It was joyful to observe them getting the lids off the barrels and enjoying eating. Playing.
All too soon it was time to say goodbye. After we’d left I had a little cry. I felt so privileged to have been able to get so close to my favourite animals. It was one of the best things I’d ever done and I’ll definitely go back to do it again. I’m even considering featuring a zoo and a keeper in my next book so I can keep returning for ‘research’ purposes…
I am INCREDIBLY excited to reveal the details of my seventh psychological thriller – seventh! When I began writing in 2014 I had no idea of the journey it would take me on and today, looking at my book covers hanging on my wall I feel immense gratitude, and, if I’m honest, relief that so far I seem to be pulling off masquerading as an author…
I’m loving the cover of ‘All For You’ and very thankful for my editor and the wonderful team at HQ Stories/Harper Collins who have created a package that fits this very twisty story perfectly. It’ll be published on 30th September in the UK on paperback, ebook and audio, and is available to pre-order now via Amazon, Waterstones, or your local bookstore can order you a copy.
So, are you ready to meet the Walsh Family?
Lucy: Mother. Wife. Falling to pieces . . . Aidan: Father. Husband. In too deep . . . Connor: Son. Friend. Can never tell the truth . . .
Everyone in this family has something to hide, but what are they trying to protect, and at what cost?
IT WAS ALL FOR YOU.
I’ll be sad to let the Walsh family go, they’ve shocked me continuously throughout the writing of this book. There were times I thought I had the plot all figured out but Lucy, Aidan and Connor are strong characters who wouldn’t do entirely what I wanted them to do. I’m very fond of them though because, despite their secrets and lies, they’re an ordinary family with a lot of love for each other.
The proofs are being printed right now and I’ll be giving away a signed copy soon, as well as a signed proof of ‘The Art of Loving You’, my second contemporary fiction novel which publishes under my pen name, Amelia Henley this July so do sign up to my blog or newsletter to keep up to date and follow me on social media over at Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
For now I’ll leave you with pre-order links and I’ll be back soon blogging about how I structure my books and why I’m still evolving as a writer.
After publishing 6 psychological thrillers under Louise Jensen which is my real name, last year I published my first contemporary fiction book under the pen name Amelia Henley. Since then I’ve been asked so many questions about why I used a different name I thought I’d write a blog post about it.
My publisher told me to.
Shortest post ever?
Let me expand it then, there are many reasons to use a pen name and multiple pros and cons.
When I first signed a deal for my debut, ‘The Sister‘, it didn’t even cross my mind to use a pseudonym. I was super excited to finally see my name on the cover of a book. It was such a special moment for me, and my family. My son took his friends into Waterstones and showed them and I felt a glow of pride I’d never felt before. Of course, then, I didn’t realise it would quickly sell over half a million copies and be translated into twenty-five languages and that a LOT of people would read it. This was really only an issue for me during a smear test when the nurse asked me if I’d written ‘The Sister’ and then proceeded to tell me how much she loved Grace and Charlie which was very nice but probably not the time or the place. Having a disability and subsequently a lot of medical appointments there are times when I’ve wondered whether I’d have been more comfortable using a pseudonym. Not that I assume people have read my books or know my name but, as the smear test palaver demonstrated, you really never know.
If you want to retain anonymity or have some separation between your writing life and another career a pen name can be really useful. Particularly if you have a name too similar to an established author. Being called Stephen King may not create any confusion in day-to-day life but in publishing…
There are many other reasons authors use pen names. Reinvention is one of them. An author who hasn’t had the best sales and wants to begin again, or, as in my case, an author who wants to try a different genre.
My publisher (HQ/Harper Collins) loved my debut love story but wanted a separation from my thriller brand (I’m very uncomfortable with the word brand btw). This was liberating in that I could bring something out with no reader expectations and no fear of judgement because although ‘The Life We Almost Had’ is ultimately a tear-jerking love story there is a sci-fi element to it and I wasn’t sure how it would be received. The downside being I had to set up social media accounts in a new name and running two of everything is quite time consuming. In the end my publisher suggested we use ‘Amelia’ as an open pseudonym which was a relief, some publishers have it written into contracts you can’t tell anyone for a stipulated period of time and I am rubbish at keep secrets.
So, who choses the pen name?
My editor wanted me to come up with suggestions I was happy with but then these needed to be run past the marketing department for their approval.
Amelia Henley is the only name I put forward and I’m thankful they approved it because it is very personal. I have three children and for ‘Amelia’ I took two letters from each of their names. ‘Henley’ is an extremely special name to our family.
It’s worked out really well for me having two names (which is just as well as I have a second Amelia book – ‘The Art of Loving You‘ – publishing this July and a new thriller coming in October). One of my career highs and a completely ‘mind blown’ moment was last autumn when both ‘The Life We Almost Had‘ and ‘The Stolen Sisters‘ were published in paperback and I walked into Tesco and saw them both on a shelf together.
If you’re a writer and thinking of using or have a pen name I’d love to hear of your experience and how you chose yours.
‘The Life We Almost Had’ is currently in its 3rd week at No.1 in Germany and UK readers can currently download the kindle book for just 99p for a limited time from Amazon here.
I am absolutely THRILLED to share the gorgeous cover from my forthcoming ‘Amelia Henley’ novel – ‘The Art of Loving You‘.
The response to my debut contemporary fiction novel ‘The Life We Almost Had’ was so positive I feel excited rather than nervous to be publishing my second standalone love story this summer, although I expect that to change on the lead up to the big day…
For those of you who fell in love with Adam and Anna, prepare to meet Libby and Jack. My editor says this story broke her heart and then put it back together again.
I can’t wait to share more details over the next few months, particularly when it comes to Sid, the eighty year old man who was meant to feature briefly in the story but had such a huge personality he kind of took over (although he was such a joy to write I didn’t mind).
‘The Art of Loving You’ will be available as a paperback, ebook and audiobook and you can pre order right now. Find it on Amazon here, Waterstones here, or any other digital or indie bookshop.
For now, I’ll leave you with the blurb: –
They were so in love . . . And then life changed forever . . . Will they find happiness again?
Libby and Jack are the happiest they’ve ever been. Thanks to their dear friend, eighty-year-old Sid, they’ve just bought their first house together, and it’s the beginning of the life they’ve always dreamed of.
But the universe has other plans for Libby and Jack and a devastating twist of fate shatters their world.
All of a sudden life is looking very different, and unlikely though it seems, might Sid be the one person who can help Libby and Jack move forward when what they loved the most has been lost?
The Art of Loving You is a beautiful love story for our times. Romantic and uplifting, it will break your heart and then put it back together again.
* * * *
Praise for Amelia Henley:
‘A love story with a definite difference . . . intensely emotional’ Best
‘Beautifully written and plotted. Get ready for the final chapter – you have been warned’ Candis
‘Intriguing, unusual and intensely romantic’ Sunday Mirror
This photo used to be one of my favourites. It’s my son Kai and I, just over three years ago, on our way to his university interview. We were both incredibly excited, so full of hope for Kai’s future. Now looking at it makes me incredibly sad.
Kai is almost at the end of his time at uni and the onset of COVID has had an enormous impact on his course, Media Productions, a practical degree which doesn’t and hasn’t transferred well to online learning.
Without access to the university studio and the specialist equipment and being able to work in groups Kai is set to leave uni in three months with no portfolio and virtually no hope of breaking into the industry he is so passionate about. Despite this there is no chance of a refund on the £9000 fees he has paid each year. The government has given no direct financial aid to universities or students in England. The parliamentary debate on 16th November resulted in the government stating students had to contact their universities if they wanted a refund and so far, according to The Tab, only 1.6% of students who have tried to claim a refund have received a small sum. (As there were lecturer strikes at the beginning of 2020 in Kai’s second year there has been no face-to-face teaching for over 12 months now).
The course fees aren’t the only debts students accumulate. There is the cost of accommodation. Most students have been told not to return to campus under Gavin Williamson has unveiled a roadmap for a staggered return. Some accommodation providers are offering a partial refund but there is not official guidelines although this is something Boris Johnson as said he will ‘look at’.
So what about the students on practical courses who are leaving uni without the experience they signed up for and no prospects without portfolios?
The future is grim.
Here I chat to Kai a little further about the challenges he has faced in the past year. Apologies for the quality in some parts – but do give it a watch and if you’re a student, a parent or any one with constructive advice, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I didn’t blog much in 2020 –I didn’t feel I had much to say, if I’m honest I still don’t. We all know how terrible the year was. As a family, we’ve faced challenges the same as everybody else; illness, hospital admissions, bereavement, an accident, a decline in health, the list is endless. My creativity was non-existent, my productivity poor.
During the first lockdown I spent weeks wondering how I could write alongside home schooling and my husband working from home. This morphed into what I should write, my mind was too cluttered to think clearly. Pre-pandemic I’d been writing psychological thrillers in the morning and contemporary fiction in the afternoons but I knew I no longer had the mental capacity to do this. I had an idea for an Amelia Henley book but publishing my debut love story during a pandemic had been hugely challenging and I wasn’t certain there was a future for Amelia.
Finally I spent the last few months of the year contemplating whether I should write at all. Had I lost my love for it? 2020 was the longest stretch I hadn’t written anything in years. Perhaps it was time to do something else entirely.
Then came the end of year blogs, the ‘Best Books of 2020’. It’s always so rewarding to see my books featured on these lists and to see multiple entries for ‘The Stolen Sisters’ was hugely gratifying.
But then came something unexpected. I checked my ‘Amelia Henley’ social media channels not expecting any notifications but there was. I was overwhelmed to see ‘The Life We Almost Had’ featured on numerous ‘Top Ten’ book blogs and even voted book of the year.
I cried and then I replied to the posts I’d been tagged in on to say thank you but thank you doesn’t quite convey just how life affirming and life changing these blog posts have been.
Today, I sat at my computer for the first time what feels like forever and wrote two small words I wasn’t sure I’d ever write again, ‘Chapter One’ and I feel nervous, excited and above all hopeful, to begin a fresh Amelia Henley story, to have new characters to get to know.
In this post I wanted to try and express, but fear I am failing the importance of book bloggers. How they have allowed me to regroup, refocus.
Thank you doesn’t quite cut it but I don’t know what else to say.
I began writing my debut, ‘The Sister‘, for fun. It was meant to be a short story. I hadn’t written any fiction as an adult and I hadn’t any qualifications other than a clutch of GCSE’s. I never believed I could write a book. I had always thought that to be a published novelist you needed a wealth of experience and a degree in creative writing.
When it got to the point that my ‘short story’ had reached 90k words I began to tentatively hope I could edit it to a high enough standard where I’d dare to submit it. Out of my depth, I was so grateful when a writer I met at an event offered to read the opening 3 chapters for me. I didn’t check where she was published, or how she was published. The fact she was in print led me to believe she knew absolutely everything.
Her overriding feedback was that my prologue was a huge mistake, ‘”readers hate them, agents hate them and publishers hate them. If you submit something with a prologue it won’t be read.”
I felt my face burn with embarrassment. I didn’t know the rules and I’d been found out for the imposter that I was.
Immediately I deleted my prologue, but now, several books on and with over a million copies sold I’m familiar with most of the rules and (whispers) here’s the thing. There aren’t any.
That writer, as it turned out, was right that ‘The Sister‘ shouldn’t have a prologue, but not for the reasons she said.Her overriding feedback was that my prologue was a huge mistake, ‘”readers hate them, agents hate them and publishers hate them. If you submit something with a prologue it won’t be read.”That writer, as it turned out, was right that ‘The Sister‘ shouldn’t have a prologue, but not for the reasons she said.
The prologue wasn’t needed. It didn’t serve a purpose and in a novel, every single scene, every single word needs to earn its place, prologue included. After The Sister spent two months at No. 1 I found the confidence to include a prologue in my second psychological thriller, ‘The Gift‘, because no matter what that writer said about people hating prologues, I don’t and first and foremost I’m a reader. I don’t write one for every book because not every story warrants one.
So how do I decide when to use one? ‘The Stolen Sisters’ (currently 99p in the Amazon Kindle Deal) is my latest thriller and I’ll use it as an example, I’ve included the prologue below.
When Carly looked back at that day the memory was in shades of grey; the trauma had sucked the blue from the sky, the green from the freshly mown grass. She had sat on the back doorstep, the coolness of the concrete permeating through her school skirt, the late-afternoon sun warming her bare arms. Carly remembers now the blackness of a beetle scurrying down the path before it disappeared into the soil under the rose bush. The stark white of the twins’ socks, bunched below their knees.
Inconsequential details that later the police would jot in their notebooks as though Carly was somehow being a great help but she knew she wasn’t, and worse than that, she knew it was entirely her fault.
It had all been so frustratingly normal. Leah and Marie had shrieked in mock disgust as Bruno, their boxer, bounded towards them, drool spilling from his jowls. But their screams then still carried an undercurrent of happiness, not like later when their cries were full of fear and there was nowhere to run to.
The things that have stayed with Carly are this.
The way her fingers gripped the cumbersome Nokia in her hand as though she was clutching a secret. Her annoyance as she angled her screen to avoid the glare, never dreaming that soon she would be craving daylight.
The pounding in her head increasing as the girls bounced a tennis ball between them across the patio. The way she had snapped at the twins as though it was their fault Dean Malden hadn’t text her. Of all the things that she could, that she should, feel guilty about, she had never forgiven herself that the last words she spoke to her sisters before they were all irrevocably damaged was in anger rather than kindness.
Although in truth, she had never forgiven herself for any of it.
‘Shut up!’ She had roared out her frustration that the first boy she loved had shattered her thirteen-year-old heart. Crazy now to recall that she once thought the absence of a text was the end of the world. There were far worse things. Far worse people than the floppy-haired blond boy who had let her down.
Her younger sisters turned to her, identical green eyes wide. Marie’s sight trained on Carly’s face as she chucked the ball for Bruno. Carly’s irritation grew as she watched it fly over the fence.
‘For God’s sake.’ She stood, brushing the dust from the back of her sensible pleated skirt. ‘It’s time to come in.’
‘But that’s not fair.’ Marie looked stricken as her gaze flickered towards the fence.
‘Life isn’t fair,’ Carly said feeling a bubbling resentment that at eight years old the twins had it easy.
‘Can you fetch our ball, please, Carly?’ Marie pleaded.
‘Fetch it yourself,’ Carly snapped.
‘You know we’re not allowed out of the garden on our own until we’re ten,’ Marie said.
‘Yeah, well I’m in charge today and I’m saying you can. It’s not like we live in a city. Nothing ever happens in this dump.’ Carly was sick of living somewhere so small where everyone knew everyone else’s business. Where everyone would know by tomorrow that Dean Malden had rejected her. ‘Be quick and shut the gate properly.’
She turned and pushed open the back door, stepping into the vast kitchen that never smelled of cakes or bread. It never smelled of anything except freshly roasted coffee. Carly clattered her phone onto the marble island and yanked open the fridge door. The shelves that were once stocked with stilton and steak and that had groaned under the weight of fresh fruit and vegetables, were woefully bare. There was nothing except a shrivelled cucumber and some out-of-date hummus. It was all right for her mum and stepdad out for the evening at yet another corporate function. They spent more time on the business than with their children nowadays, although Mum had assured her it wouldn’t be for much longer. She’d soon be at home more but in the meantime it was left to Carly to sort out tea again. She had loved her half-sisters fiercely since the day they were born but sometimes she wished mum still paid the retired lady down the road to babysit but since Carly had turned thirteen mum felt that she was responsible enough.
She sighed as she crossed to the shelf above the Aga and lifted the lid from the teapot. Inside was a £10 note. Chips for tea. She wondered whether the money would stretch to three sausages or if they should split a battered cod.
Minutes later the twins tumbled into the kitchen.
‘Yuck.’ Leah dropped the tennis ball coated with slobber into the wicker basket where Bruno kept his toys.
‘Wash your hands,’ Carly snapped as she checked her phone again.
What had she done wrong? She had thought Dean liked her.
Marie perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, swinging her legs, the toes of her shoes thudding against the kick board. How was Carly supposed to hear her text alert over that? Marie had her chin in her hands, her mouth downturned; she hated being in trouble. Carly could see the way her lip trembled with upset but she couldn’t help yelling again.
Marie slid off the stool. ‘I . . . I left my fleece in the garden.’
Carly jerked her head towards the door in a go-and-get-it-gesture before she clicked on the radio. The sound of Steps flooded the room. Marie paused and momentarily their sisterly bond tugged at them all. ‘5, 6, 7, 8’ was one of their favourite songs. Usually they’d fall into line and dance in synchronicity.
‘Let’s do this!’ Marie flicked her red hair over her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips.
‘It’s childish,’ Carly snapped although inside her shoes, her toes were tapping.
‘It doesn’t work unless we all do it.’ Marie’s voice cracked. ‘We have to be together.’
Carly pulled the scrunchie she’d been wearing like a bracelet from her wrist and smoothed her long fair hair back into a ponytail. The twins got into position. Waited. Carly reached for her phone and tried to ignore the pang of meanness that flitted through her as the smile slipped from Leah’s face. Marie’s small shoulders rounded as she headed back outside.
Minutes later she raced back in, socked feet skidding across the tiles, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. ‘Bruno’s got out. The gate was open.’
‘For God’s sake.’ Carly could feel the anger in her chest form a cold, hard ball. It was one of the last times she ever allowed herself to truly feel. ‘Who shut the gate?’
Marie bit her lower lip.
‘I did,’ said Leah, slipping her shoes back on.
‘You’re supposed to bang it until it latches, you idiot. You know it’s broken. Three times. You bang it three times.’
The girls pelted into the garden, calling the dog’s name.
Marie hesitated at the gate. ‘Perhaps we should wait—’ Under her freckles, her skin was pale. She’d been off school yesterday with a stomach-ache and although she’d gone back today, she didn’t look well. Carly knew she should ask if she was feeling okay but instead she shoved her roughly into the street. ‘It’s your fault, Marie. You search that way.’ She pointed down the avenue lined with beech trees.
Marie grabbed Leah’s hand.
‘No,’ Carly snapped. ‘Leah can come with me.’ The twins could be silly where they were together and she had enough to worry about without them getting into trouble.
‘But I want . . .’ Marie began.
‘I don’t care what you want. Move.’ Carly grabbed Leah’s arm and led her in the opposite direction, towards the cut-through at the side of their house which led to the park.
It all happened so quickly that afterwards Carly couldn’t remember which order it all came in. The balaclava-clad face looming towards hers. The forearm around her neck, the gloved hand clamped over her mouth. The sight of Leah struggling against arms that restrained her. The scraping sound of her shoe as she was dragged towards the van at the other end of the alley. The sight of Marie, almost a blur, flying towards the second man also clad in black, who held her twin, pummelling him with her small fists.
‘Stop! You can’t do this! Don’t take her. I don’t want you to take her!’
The soft flesh compacting against hard bone as Carly bit down hard on the fingers that had covered her mouth.
‘Run!’ she had screamed at Marie as the man who held Leah grabbled to find something of Marie’s he could hold onto, clutching at her collar, her ginger pigtails, as she dodged his grasp.
I decided to use a prologue for this story, not only because it’s an instant hook, but because I wanted to begin twenty years before I started the story proper. There was vital information I wanted the reader to know. The girls are snatched in the prologue but Chapter One immediately move on to the girls as adults and we learn they were returned without any abuse. As a mother the only way I could write about missing children was if we know straight away that the girls were safe and the prologue enabled me to do this. We do, as the novel prgoresses, delve back into the past where we see, not how the girls were taken, but why and in the present it’s all about what happens when their abductor reappears on the twenty year anniversary of their abduction.
To read more of the Sinclair sisters’ story download the digital version of the book for just 99p for a limited time only across all digital platforms. You can find The Stolen Sisters on Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, Google books & Waterstones.
It’s also a Fern Britton book club pick and a special edition with extra content is available at Tesco. You can also find ‘The Stolen Sisters’ at Asda, shortly at Sainsbury’s and as an audiobook on Audible.
Two of my other books (with prologues!) are also in Amazon’s October sale. Download ‘The Gift‘ or my Amelia Henley debut love story with a twist ‘The Life We Almost Had.‘ (you can read the prologue for this here.)
Locations can be hugely important to a book. My first four psychological thrillers were based in fabricated towns in the midlands because the place wasn’t relevant to the story, my fifth, ‘The Family’ in a cult in Wales because I needed a vast amount of rural space and I was very familiar with this area. ‘The Life We Almost Had’ my debut love story takes place on a Spanish Island based on Lanzarote.
For my 7th and latest book I needed somewhere specific. Somewhere remote and yet not too far out of a town. Somewhere creepy. Somewhere you could feasibly hide three young girls…
I’m obsessed with exploring abandoned buildings and my children are the same. If we want a day out we’d much rather go and look around a ruin, and so the hunt was on for somewhere to base ‘The Stolen Sisters’. In this book the Sinclair sisters are snatched during chapter one. In chapter two we find out they had been returned unharmed with no sexual abuse (it was the only way I could bear to write this). Chapters in the book alternate between past and present and in the past we needed to feel the girls fear, the tension and the way to build on this was to use the setting almost as another character.
I considered, and disregarded multiple locations before I stumbled upon RAF Upwood. It was everything I wanted it to be. Close enough to take the girls there in a relatively short space of time. Vast enough for the girls to get lost when they escape their room. Remote enough so no-one can hear them scream…
I renamed Upwood, RAF Norwood for the story and like Upwood, in my book Norwood was fenced off, waiting to be demolished for a housing estate (Upwood has now partly been knocked down.) Hyde Housing were very accommodating, allowing me to look around and film. I also staged rooms where the girls might be held, with the scant possessions they were given, to try and really get a feel for the horror Leah, Marie and Carly Sinclair might have felt.
It was surreal being at Upwood. Kind of like being on a film set for a movie version of ‘The Stolen Sisters’.
This clown was really the start of everything. I imagined it being on the back of the door, terrifying the young girls, the sense of his eyes watching them every time they try to escape the room. I was never afraid of clowns until I wrote this book, now…
The corridors have so many doorways coming off them, imagine how terrifying it would be to be chased, to choose a doorway, and find yourself trapped in another dark room.
There is a scene in the book where the girls hang from these bars hoping they can pull them free from the window. They can’t.
Carly is running with her two younger sisters, she hears the men coming, does she hide upstairs or try to make it to the door?
I set up a camp in one of the rooms with Leah’s teddy bear, the blanket and the food and drink the girls were given. It was horrible
There is a terrifying scene that takes place in the shower block. Thanks to my visit I was able to describe the environment, but the smell! I could never describe the smell.
The site is absolutely vast. Imagine running around here at night with no lights. Shudder.
Some of the graffiti here is so impressive.
Everywhere I turned I spotted potential danger for the girls.
In a bid to escape, Leah dropped her teddy bear, it was heartbreaking to think of it left the RAF base amongst the rubble.
It’s also a Fern Britton book club pick and a special edition with extra content is available at Tesco. You can also find ‘The Stolen Sisters’ at Asda, shortly at Sainsbury’s and as an audiobook on Audible.
It’s publication day for my 6th psychological thriller, (my 7th published book).
It’s been a whirlwind, launching both this book and my debut love story ‘The Life We Almost Had‘ written under my pen name Amelia Henley. With ebook and paperbacks, this is my third publication day in the last few months. The excitement never ends! Thanks to everyone who came along to my live online launch last night – it was huge fun and congratulations to all the prize winners.
The Stolen Sisters is available as eBook, paperback and audiobook, and the physical version can be found in Tesco, Asda, (Sainsbury’s in a couple of weeks), Waterstones, Foyles, and other bookshops. If your local bookshop isn’t stocking it, do ask – they’d be happy to order in. I can’t wait to see it on a shelf! There was much excitement when I finally got to hold it in my hands.
I’m both grateful and excited that the lovely Fern Britton has chosen The Stolen Sisters for her October bookclub pick. She has an exclusive edition with extra content which can be found in Tesco!
This story of the Sinclair Sisters is very special to me, and I’m thrilled with the early feedback. It’s already received over 100 5* reviews on Netgalley and I’ve been doing a readathon these past few days with the lovely folks at Pigeonhole and the response there has been phenomenal.
I’ll be talking about the inspiration behind it, and the creepy real life location it is based in over the next few weeks but for now I’ll leave you with the blurb.
Sisterhood binds them. Trauma defines them. Will secrets tear them apart?
Leah’s perfect marriage isn’t what it seems but the biggest lie of all is that she’s learned to live with what happened all those years ago. Marie drinks a bit too much to help her forget. And Carly has never forgiven herself for not keeping them safe.
Twenty years ago The Sinclair Sisters were taken. But what came after their return was far worse. Can a family ever recover, especially when not everyone is telling the truth…?
Next week – next week!! I can’t believe it’s almost publication day for my 6th psychological thriller – The Stolen Sisters. The early reviews have been AMAZING with readers calling it my best book so far. The Sinclair sisters, Leah, Marie and Carly really hold a special place in my heart and I can’t wait to share more about them over the next few weeks, as well as the creepy real life location the story is set in.
For now I’d like to invite you to my Facebook and IG online launch, next Wednesday at 8pm GMT. My wonderful publisher, HQ Stories/Harper Collins, have donated some brilliant prizes which I’ll be giving away during the launch. If you’re a Facebook user pop over to the event here and enter the draws or you can also find them on Insta here. I’ll also be giving away something extra on the night.
Fortnum & Masons have generously donated one of their fabulous hampers which you can be in with a chance to win if you pre-order (or have already pre-ordered) the book. Check out their competition here.
While I’m here I’ll mention that my debut love story with a big twist ‘The Life We Almost Had’ (written under my pen name Amelia Henley) is currently 99p on Amazon and across all digital platforms.
I’m so touched by the love readers have shown Adam & Anna and by the press coverage.
‘A love story with a definite difference . . . intensely emotional’Best
‘Beautifully written & plotted. Get ready for the final chapter – you have been warned’Candis
It was a dream come true to spot in on a shelf in Tesco while I was doing my shopping. Trust me, there was a HUGE smile behind my mask.
If you want to read about the unimaginable lengths Anna has to go to in order to have a second chance at first love with Adam download “The Life We Almost Had’ from Amazon, iBooks, Kobo or Google. It is NOT a typical love story.