#amwriting #FridayFiction Part 3 #TheVanishedBoy @harmony_kent #newbook #crimethriller
Hi everyone. I can’t tell you how much pleasure it is to pen my third ‘am writing’ post. I’m on a roll. My new meds continue to ease my breathing, and I’ve tentatively begun to reduce down from four sets of doses a day to two. We’ll see how that goes. My manuscript on The Vanished Boy now stands at just under 58,000 words. If you’re a regular here, you’ll have seen the blurb and cover already, so feel free to skip down to this week’s excerpt. I’d love to know your thoughts, bearing in mind this is straight from the WIP and is the first, unrevised draft. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone 🙂
About the Book:
A missed phone call in the night is all it takes.
When Carole’s 18-year-old son goes missing, she breaks into Jayden’s laptop to try to understand his life.
All too soon, Carole discovers just how little she knew her boy.
And when one lead after another dead-ends, the distraught mother has to face the unthinkable.
Sucked into a sticky web of deceit and lies, nothing is as it seems.
When your life turns inside out and upside down, who would you trust?
Still half-asleep, she picks up the TV remote and finds the news channel. The weather plays in between banal reports. Sure enough, Storm Ellen is due to hit them in a couple of days. A cast-off, apparently, of the Tropical Storm that’s been battering at the US coast for the last few days. They always decide to visit the UK about a week after. Friendly things that they are. Carole slurps at her coffee and murmurs, ‘Who needs those sorts of friends?’
Her gaze wanders around the homely kitchen. Across the black granite work surfaces, over the well-used gas hob and oven combo, and on to the sink. The hairs on her neck prickle. Slowly, she reverses her perusal. Her eyes stop at the recycling tub by the back door. Still full. Huh. ‘Well, maybe Jay got home too late and he forgot again.’ She shakes her head. Something doesn’t feel right. There’s something else she’s missing.
On the counter, next to the double-wide American-style fridge, she sees her son’s laptop. Its silver casing glints at her in the harsh light of the overheads—taunting her and telling her she should know. Carole sucks in a breath and holds it. Study group. He said he was at study group. Why would he leave his laptop at home?
© Harmony kent 2021
You can find all of my books at Amazon: http://author.to/HarmonysBooks