Elinor Gentry’s world collapsed when her husband and only daughter were killed in a car crash two years ago. Her recurring nightmares have left her exhausted and her debts are crippling her. Then, for no apparent reason, the nightmares turn into pleasant dreams and she can start to take back control of her life.
But then a string of horrific and unexplained suicides and a horrifying discovery about Elinor lead her best friend, Marnie, to seek help from the one person who has seen all this before. Hazel Messinger knows that Elinor’s newly found wellbeing is not what it seems.
A demon is at work here and it is a race against time to save Elinor’s soul...
Here's an extract:
And stopped, halted by the chill.
What was that? A faint, whooshing sound. Where from? Her palms were sweating. Her breath coming in short, shallow pants. She couldn’t delay now. She must find that key. To the left of her was the living room and to the right, past the stairs, the kitchen. Straight ahead was the front door. Maybe she would be in luck, and Elinor would have just locked theYale. She hurried down the short hall and tried it. She lucked out. Locked with the mortise, just as she’d guessed.
She turned back to see something creeping down the stairs, black and amorphous, serpentine in its movements.
She froze, horrified. Heard a scream. Hers.
She rushed into the kitchen and at the side door saw another mortise lock, with no key.
The thing on the stairs must be closing in on her. She wouldn’t be able to get past it to the conservatory. Pray God Elinor kept all her spare keys together.
Marnie frantically rummaged through drawers filled with tablecloths and tea towels, heedless as they spilled onto the floor. Hearing the whooshing sound draw near, she fumbled through the cutlery drawer. On one side of the cutlery tray lay a bunch of three similar keys, all for mortise locks. “Lucky,” she murmured. The side door was closest. She could open that and call to Hazel from there.
But by then, Hazel was banging on that door. Yelling something Marnie couldn’t make out. Behind her, the sound was almost on her.
She dashed to the door and jammed key after key into the lock with shaking fingers. The third key worked, and Marnie turned the handle, wrenched it open and was met with a white-faced Hazel on the doorstep. But she wasn’t looking at Marnie.
By the angle of her head, Hazel was looking into the house. “Marnie, get out here now. And whatever you do, don’t turn round.”