Dark Sanctuary
Prologue

Tuesday, September 9
 
Dr Elaine Davett stumbled into her hallway, her hands trembling as she secured the deadbolt on the front door. She leant against its solid frame, her ears straining for the slightest sound, for any indication she’d been followed.
    Nothing.
    She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath and exhaled, collecting her thoughts before pulling her phone from her bag and dialling a number. Voicemail. Damn it. She left a message. ‘It’s Elaine. I’m going to disappear for a while. You should think about doing the same. You have my number. Be careful.’
    A car cruised past the front window and she froze, her pulse scattering, but it continued down the street.
    Kicking off her work heels, she crossed the lounge into the kitchen to pour herself a scotch and steady her shaking fingers. She tossed the drink back, felt the burn down her throat. Pack. She had to pack. She thumped the glass on the counter and strode to the bedroom, dragged her suitcase from the wardrobe and wondered what to put in it. How long would she be gone? Would it ever be safe to return? Just the basics, she told herself, and threw in clothes, chargers, her passport—where was it? Her laptop was in the other room. Couldn’t forget that. Toiletries. She walked into the bathroom. Her toothbrush, hairbrush …
    A shadow moved. A vice-like grip clamped over her face. Terror surged through her as the sharp sting of a syringe was plunged into her neck.
    She fought hard. Writhed. Scratched. Gouged. She had to shake that steel-like grip, get free, get …
                                                                       * * *
She awoke, but the effort to open her eyes was immense. Her thoughts were muddled, her vision swayed. She tried to move, couldn’t. Thin restraints bit into her wrists and ankles.
    How? What? Why?
    Her senses slowly, too slowly, started to return.
    A soft whisper of movement reached her ears, followed by a tinkling of metal. She lifted her head and struggled to make sense of the sound. The figure at the side of her bed wavered, edges shifting and blurring as it turned slowly. In its hands, two long, glinting spikes caught the light. Then came the voice, distorted and distant, yet chillingly familiar.
    ‘Hello, Dr Davett.’
    The drug’s haze vanished in an instant. Confusion exploded into desperate, mortal terror. ‘No,’ she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, raw and broken. ‘No, no, please …’
    He stepped in close, his proximity bringing into focus the manic excitement in his eyes. He set down the spikes. ‘We’ll get to those,’ he murmured and picked up a scalpel. ‘First, I need your eyes.’
    She thrashed against the restraints, heart hammering, limbs useless. ‘Please, I only ever tried to help you.’
    He leant down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice laced with elation. ‘It didn’t work.’

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Behind the scenes....

Advance reader copies of Dark Sanctuary are out in the world!  So's an army of not-so-nice teddy bears thanks to my fabulous and creative publicist,
​Stuart Henshall.

Some recent Q&A
Q: Can I get signed copies of your books?
A: Absolutely! As long as they're still available in print, I'm happy to sign and send. And yes, overseas orders are fine.

Q: Was that really the last Lexi Winter book?
A: For now, but who knows?  She's only just become a detective...
​
Q:  Would you consider writing more romantic suspense books?
A: Absolutely, if I have time. Right now I'm focusing on some exciting new crime thriller ideas.

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