Those Who Lie: the gripping new thriller you won’t be able to stop talking about

Those Who Lie: the gripping new thriller you won’t be able to stop talking about
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‘ scorchingly good thriller’ – Lisa Hall, bestselling author of mega-hit Between You and Me ‘A tantalising and taut thriller with more twists and turns than a corkscrew. Red herrings swim all the way through it. An excellent page turner’ – Sally (Goodreads)Emily Klein doesn’t know she has killed her husband until the day of his funeral.At first, signs point to a tragic accident. Yet, as Emily pieces together the events before his death – events which led to her own memory loss – she begins to suspect that her husband’s death may have been the result of more than a terrible twist of fate…But the accident is only the beginning. Because while Emily’s physical scars will heal, the trauma of the accident has awakened old ghosts. She hears strange sounds, catches things that can’t possibly be there in the corner of her eye. Before long, everywhere she looks, she seems to see her husband.And suddenly, Emily finds herself asking the most dangerous question of all.Can she really trust herself?Reviewers love Those Who Lie:‘This is a must read for anyone who lives to delve into psychological thrillers!’ – Linda Strong, Netgalley‘With brilliant main characters and a wonderful plot, this book is a real page turner. I would highly recommend this book.’ – Stephanie Collins, Netgalley‘I absolutely adored this book’ – Lu Dex, Netgalley‘Great book.. keeps you guessing!! If you love twists and turns then this book if for you!’ – Diane Merrit, Netgalley‘With twists and turns that will wrong-foot you all the way, a dash of dark humour and a strong emotional punch, this is an excellent debut that more than earns its place within the genre.’ – S.J.I. Holliday, author of Black WoodDon’t forget to leave a review and tell us what you thought!

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Emily Klein doesn’t know her husband has died until the day of his funeral.

But, as she pieces together the events before his death – events that led to her own memory loss – Emily begins to suspect that his death may not have been such a tragic accident after all.

If only she could remember…

The question is: are there some memories that Emily should leave alone?

Those Who Lie

Diane Jeffrey


ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

DIANE JEFFREY

Diane Jeffrey grew up in North Devon. She lives and teaches English in Lyon, France. She is the mother of three children, and the mistress of one disobedient Labrador and one crazy kitten.

THOSE WHO LIE is her debut psychological thriller.

Diane has a BA Joint Honours degree in French and German from the University of Nottingham and an MA in English Literature and Linguistics from the Université Jean Moulin Lyon III.

In her free time, she devours novels and chocolate. She also swims a lot and runs a little. Above all, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends.

Diane’s imagination often runs amok and gets her up in the night to scribble down ideas for her writing. Incredibly, her supportive long-suffering husband puts up with this.

Readers can follow Diane on Twitter or on Facebook

@dianefjeffrey

facebook.com/dianejeffreyauthor

For my grandmother, Carrie. We still miss you.

~

Oxford, August 2014

Emily Klein doesn’t know she has killed him until the day of his funeral. Her loved ones, including, of course, her husband, are all at the church rather than at her bedside. That explains why there are no familiar faces around her this time when she regains consciousness.

The room swims in and out of focus, and, at first, she has no idea where she is. But then it comes back to her. She’s trying to remember why she’s here when a cough to her right startles her. She isn’t alone. Her neck hurts as she turns her head, expecting to see Greg, or her sister, or at the very least her mother. Instead, her eyes rest on the broad chest of one of the two strangers sitting beside her bed.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Klein,’ the stranger says in a deep voice.

Emily looks up into the kind face of a burly man. He appears to be around the same age as her. He has a bushy moustache containing far more hair than he has on his balding head. He’s smiling at her a little lopsidedly. Emily attempts to smile back, but her lips feel as if they’re glued to her teeth.

Next to him sits a thin woman who also seems to be in her mid-thirties. She has a dour expression on her pretty face, and her hair is cropped very short and dyed a copper-red. She inches her chair forwards, closer to Emily’s bed. The legs of the chair make a scraping sound on the floor. Emily feels intimidated.

‘I’m Sergeant Campbell,’ the woman says, fixing her piercing, green eyes on Emily, ‘and this is my colleague.’ She waves her hand towards the robust man as she introduces him by name, but Emily only catches the word ‘Constable’.

Emily must look bemused because the constable smiles at her again from beneath his impressive moustache. He means this reassuringly, she supposes, but the right side of his face appears more animated than the left, and Emily finds his crooked grin rather unsettling.

What’s going on? What do the police want? Emily can’t shake off the unnerving impression that something is very wrong.

‘What can you tell us about your movements on Friday the first of August?’ asks the redhead officiously, whipping out a notebook and a pen from a pocket in her uniform. She has a lilting Scottish accent that mitigates the hard edge to her voice.

Emily tries to speak, but she’s very thirsty and no sound comes out. She clears her throat.

‘May I have a drink of water, please?’ she asks.

Her head is pounding.

The constable pours some water from the transparent, plastic jug on the cupboard and presses a button on the remote control to raise Emily’s bed. Then he gives her the glass. He watches her, a concerned look on his face, as she takes a few tentative sips before handing back the glass.

‘The first of August, Mrs Klein,’ the sergeant repeats, ‘what happened on that day?’

‘Well, that’s my mother’s birthday,’ Emily begins. Her throat is still dry and her voice sounds strange. ‘Oh, that’s right; I’d sent her some flowers and bought her a necklace. I rang to wish her a happy birthday. She turned sixty-five.’ Emily plucks at the stiff, white sheets before she adds, ‘She is…um, she has been ill recently, for a long time really, and…well, she’s doing a lot better at the moment. We’re so proud of her.’



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