I’m delighted to welcome back Rebecca Bradley to the blog today, to share with us an excerpt from her new novella, Three Weeks Dead. Don’t you just love that cover!
The writing world is close knit and many of us have become friends through our love of the pen. But friendship is not a prerequisite for enjoying their books and I have to say that even if we weren’t friends, I’d still read Rebecca’s because they are pacy, tightly woven and introduce a host of interesting characters. I was lucky to have an early read of this new one and I loved it. Bradley has a knack for picking out original storylines and turning them into a fast-moving thriller. Today she kindly shares a taster of the opening for Three Weeks Dead.
The grave had been dug out. There had been a strong frost for the last couple of days and the ground had been hard. Difficult to penetrate. Cold and unforgiving.
There was a chill in the air and a light breeze shimmied through the branches of the autumnal trees that surrounded the space, making the leaves whisper their secrets for a moment.
The four people on the ground would have liked to have known those secrets, but they waited in a respectful silence.
Not many people knew about today. Her husband wasn’t here. He’d had the choice. The group had advised against it.
They’d strongly recommended that he stay away, and he’d listened to their counsel.
It was causing more trouble than anyone thought possible. Unusual, to say the least.
She shivered. A feeling that shook her body from the top of her head down to her feet. It gave her the chills – to be here. To see this. She looked at the other three. She was out of her depth, she knew it, but she wouldn’t allow it to show. She could do this. She had to do this. It was her life now.
A bird flew overhead, screaming down at them. The sky a heavy grey blanket.
The woman on her right spoke. ‘Okay, you can do it.’ She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck to try to keep some warmth in. This was about to get a whole lot creepier.
The man picked up his tool from the ground and inserted it under the lip of the lid, then stopped and stared at them, a look in his eye she didn’t like.
DC Sally Poynter hadn’t yet been on Nottingham’s Major Crime Unit for a month, and this was the first new case that had come in. As the man responsible for unsealing the coffin looked panicked, she wished she were somewhere else other than here, this cold grey morning.
‘It’s already been opened.’
‘Lift it up then, let’s see,’ said her DI, Hannah Robbins.
The lid was raised and they all stared down into the empty coffin of Lisa Wells.