Her Sister's Child

by Alison James

Genres: Female Sleuths; Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

Sixteen years ago my sister died. Her baby disappeared on the same day. And I’ve never stopped searching for her…

Lizzy’s life was complicated and she had so many secrets. Secrets I kept for her. Maybe if I’d done things differently, she’d still be here now and the little girl she gave birth to wouldn’t have gone missing…

In all these years, I’ve never stopped looking, but I’d almost given up hope. Until now.

Because today I encountered an old school friend, Johnny, and it all came flooding back to me.

That day. The terrible discovery.

And something he said made me realise the shocking truth: I’ve always known who took Lizzy’s baby. I just didn’t want to admit it. Because then everything that happened would be my fault…

A twisty, unputdownable psychological thriller that will keep you hooked until the last page. Fans of Behind Closed Doors, Friend Request and The Girl on the Train will love Her Sister’s Child

Why readers are gripped by Her Sister’s Child:

"Wow, this had me picking up my Kindle at every available opportunity. I finished this in less than 24 hours, desperate to find out what happened!... Kept me gripped from the off... An absolute triumph." Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Release date: November 26, 2020

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 320

Sample

PROLOGUE

She rolls over and reaches out instinctively into the space where her baby was placed.

     Her hand hits air, and flaps redundantly.

     She sits up in bed and looks around her, head jerking wildly in first one direction, then the other. Perhaps someone lifted the baby off the bed and put her in the Moses basket. She squints over at the corner of the room, but where the Moses basket sat before, there’s just a patch of grimy carpet.

       It’s dark in the room, although she has no idea what time it could be. She stumbles out of bed and switches on the light. But this only confirms it. There is no baby.

      She checks her stomach but it’s flattened, the skin still slightly domed, but flaccid. The sliding, shifting movement of tiny limbs has stopped. She has definitely given birth; she didn’t dream it. But in that case the baby should be here next to her, lying next to her on the bed. That’s how things were when she crashed out. But the baby is gone.

      Someone has taken her.