Secret Lives of the Dead

by Tim Lebbon

Genres: General Fiction; Horror; Thrillers; Supernatural suspense; Suspense

Synopsis

A dark folk horror tale of a deadly family curse, crime and murder that is sure to turn your blood cold, from the award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of Netflix’s The Silence.

When Jodi, BB and Matt decide to burgle a derelict country home as a thrilling dare, they become embroiled in a twisted legacy of supernatural terror. There are rumours of a bizarre curse hanging over the hoard of antiques and jewellery within the house. And unbeknownst to the others, one member of the trio has darker motives for breaking into the property.

Lem is a brutal man obsessed with a gruesome family legend. He is determined to right the wrongs of the past and lift the curse placed on his bloodline. By completing the work of his father and bringing a bizarre selection of scattered relics back together, he hopes to be free of the malign influence that has hounded every generation of his family for two centuries.

Across a single day a deadly pursuit will culminate on the desolate, storm-swept Crow Island, and those involved are given cause to wonder… can believing in a curse deeply enough bring its own bad luck?

Release date: August 26, 2025

Publisher: Titan Books

Print pages: 336

Sample

BB

Jodi was setting her usual good pace, and although it was earlier than BB usually preferred to go running, he thought he might just get used to this. The chill morning was still and quiet. Mist hung in a low sheen, silvering the dew-speckled fields. The looming sunrise sculpted the line of low hills to the east, just silhouettes right now, but he could already see the pale ghosts of farmhouses beginning to emerge. To their left the sluggish river flowed with a comfortable murmur, calm beneath a hazy blanket. It was beautiful.

They crossed a low wooden bridge spanning a stream feeding into the river, their footsteps loud and then quiet again when they hit the grass on the other side. Once through a small gate and in the field beyond, BB put on a burst of speed so that he was running beside her.

“You’ve kept this all to yourself,” he said.

“You’re the one who prefers road running.”

“I mean the early mornings. This is glorious.”

“And you’re the one who likes a lie-in.”

“The river looks inviting, too. Fancy stripping off for a swim?”

She smiled sidelong at him, then switched direction straight across the field, no longer following the trodden footpath beside the river. BB slowed for a few seconds, then fell in behind her again, trying to match her footsteps through the tall wet grass. It was a game he’d played as a kid when he was out walking with his parents. Then, he’d had to stretch. Now, his footfalls were tight and fast. They ran in silence until they reached the far corner of the field, where she vaulted an overgrown stile and disappeared from view.

“Hey!” BB leaped the stile, caught his foot on a trailing bramble and almost spilled. He landed, caught his breath, and looked beyond the hedge. A narrow path wound uphill, and he just caught sight of her red running pack disappearing from view. “Jodi!”

She didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. They both knew where they were headed, and though BB hadn’t run these trails before he often travelled the surrounding roads and lanes on his bike. He was familiar with the old, abandoned house on the hill, too, though he’d never paid it that much attention. Not until two weeks ago. Now, it was the only thing on his mind.

BB ran on, enjoying the silence and watching his footing. It wouldn’t do to turn an ankle now. What the hell would Matt say to that? He glanced at his watch, though he had a pretty good idea of the time. Approaching seven in the morning. They were nearing a narrow road, and around the corner he slowed and came to a stop where Jodi was leaning against a fence. A potholed lane lay beyond, connecting one main road to another and providing access for several farms and a handful of isolated country homes. Unlike the house forefront in his mind, those other places were all inhabited. She took a swig from her water bottle

and handed it to him.

“Matt’ll be on his way,” he said.

She nodded, breathing hard, and tapped two fingers against her forehead. “Mission going entirely according to plan, sir.”

“Er, I think you’re the boss of this operation.”

“Shared ownership.”

“I love it when a plan comes together,” BB said.

She frowned.

“George Peppard. Hannibal Smith, The A-Team.”

“Huh?”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I thought that was Liam Neeson,” Jodi said, bemused.

BB went to protest again, never quite sure when she was winding him up, when they heard a car engine. Jodi grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the fence, back towards the sheltering undergrowth.

“Hey, we’re just two runners—” he said.

“But if we don’t have to be seen, best we’re not.” She pulled him down behind a wild hedge and they saw the silvery flash of a van pass by.

He leaned in close and kissed her ear. “Euch! Sweat.”

“You don’t usually complain,” she said. “Come on. Across the road then up the hill.”

They moved on, and BB felt the familiar thrill of effort, made more complete by exercising with Jodi. They didn’t do it together often enough. He preferred biking or running on the roads when the sun was up, her love was trail running pre-dawn or at dusk. She said she liked the peace and solitude, and

it was a reflection of her general dislike of crowds, and other people in general. A perfect run for her was ten miles along the river or around the local hills without encountering another person. This morning he was really starting to understand the allure, and not only because of what they were doing. This felt good for the soul.

Or maybe it was the idea of an extra few grand in his bank that made it feel so good.

As they passed through a small woodland, something big took fright and disappeared into the shadows with a heavy rustle of undergrowth.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Deer,” Jodi said, slowing to a walk. “Maybe a tiger.” They were at the edge of the small wooded area, halfway up a steep hillside, with the dawn landscape laid out before them.

“There are deer here?”

“You wouldn’t see them on the bike. Connect with nature.”

“I’m a townie.”

“Yet I still hang around with you.” Jodi stood with hands on her hips. “Just get a load of that.”

“‘Hang around’ with me?”

She didn’t answer. As he stood beside her he saw why. The view was gorgeous, and both of them breathed hard from exertion as they soaked it in. From higher up the whole countryside was bathed in morning mist, glowing pink from the dawn sun breaking over the distant hills. Copses of trees and rolls in the land peeked above the sun-touched mist, and in the distance a church spire and a windmill marked their place. The scene was still and quiet and incredibly

peaceful, but BB’s gaze was drawn closer. To the right, on top of the hill and visible behind old oaks and a scatter of younger trees, the pale façade of Morgan Manor caught the sunrise.

Jodi shrugged off her running pack and dug out a small pair of binoculars. She scanned the house, then handed them to BB.

He laughed. “Really?”

“What?”

“It’s like we’re professionals, or something.”

“We’ve got to make sure. You know how careful we have to be, right?”

This time his laughter was nervous. Yeah, they’d talked about it, but this was a bit of an adventure, that was all. One with a possible payday, and that would suit him fine. Even Matt didn’t know the extent of his remaining gambling debts from back in the day, and if things worked out here no one ever had to. At the very least, they’d have a couple of hours exploring this old place that had once featured heavily in local history and myth, but which over the last couple of decades had faded away in most peoples’ memories. When they were kids, and BB was still just plain Sam King, he and Matt had once spent a day planning an excursion here because rumour had it a homeless guy had lived in the house for a while, and no one had seen him in months. Matt said maybe they’d find his skeleton. Except back then he’d said “skellington”. BB had been keen to go. Then something else had grabbed their attention – he couldn’t remember what now, only that it was Before Girls so was probably a new bike or a superhero TV series, or something – and their expedition had never made it off the page. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d even looked up the hill at the partially hidden structure when he was cycling past.

Not until two weeks ago, anyway. 

from view and the surrounding hillside. The long driveway was hidden on the building’s opposite side, where it curved downhill through fields given over to grazing cattle until it met the road half a mile distant. That was where Matt would arrive from, and once their recce was done they would make their way around the foot of the hill to meet him.

BB gasped and froze, looking at the house.

“What?” Jodi asked.

“It’s horrible!” he said, and he almost dropped the binoculars as she shoved him against a tree.

“Dick.” She grabbed the binoculars from him and shoved them in her backpack. He heard them clank against something else, and her eyes flickered to his and away again.

BB didn’t think anything of it. Later, he’d have cause to remember that moment, and the strange look in Jodi’s eyes. He was used to her being like that. They’d been together for just over a year, and he loved her like absolute fucking crazy, but a couple of months ago after a beer too many he’d told Matt that he really didn’t think he knew her all that well. When Matt asked what he meant he’d spent a good minute or two thinking about it before saying, It’s like she’s haunted. Matt hadn’t mocked him like he should have. BB lived life shallow and fast, and Matt wasn’t used to seeing his friend so serious.

Jodi shouldered her backpack, clipped it on and glanced at her watch. “Come on. All looks good, and quiet. His Matt-ness will be on his way, and I want to be there to open the gate for him.”

They left the cover of the woods and headed out into the dawn, skirting around the hillside and staying away from the old place they’d come to burgle. Just a young couple out for an early morning run. 

 

JODI

 

Two weeks earlier, they are enjoying an afternoon in the pub garden. Jodi knows she has him when he stops talking and just stares at her over the top of his pint. He’s only ever that quiet when he’s thinking something through, and once he starts thinking about this, he’ll be in. She’s pretty, pretty certain of that. So she doesn’t lay it on too thick. That would feel like overkill, and she doesn’t want to appear too keen. It’s just a loose, crazy idea after a few drinks in the sun. Let BB muse on it, perhaps even make it his idea, and he’ll be more likely to take it seriously.

And once he commits, Matt will be along for the ride.

“So why hasn’t anyone else gone there and taken it?” BB asks.

Jodi shrugs, takes a sip of wine and pretends not to care. She catches Matt’s eye and he’s giving her the smallest of smiles, and she knows that he knows what she’s playing at here. He’s sharper than BB, quieter, a little more dour. He can see right through her, or at least he thinks he can. Deeper than BB, at least. She raises one eyebrow at him in return. They get on really well, and that more than anything makes her feel so comfortable in the company of them both. Matt and BB have been friends since they were barely walking kids at Mariton’s local nursery, and she loves the feeling of being accepted by Matt. She hasn’t taken his friend away from him; rather, BB has brought Matt another friend. He’s a good-looking guy but she doesn’t fancy him, and that’s because what they have is closer to brother and sister. Jodi always wished she’d had a sibling. And thinking that always makes her sad, because it brings her mum to mind, and her dad’s violent death.

“How do you know about it?” BB asks.

“I told you, that would be telling.”

“But you don’t know what’s there, so it could just be a box full of old cracked plates, or a treasure hoard of global significance.”

“That’s why it’s an adventure. At the very least we get to take a look in that fucking spooky old place.”

The garden in the King’s Arms is buzzing. It’s a Saturday evening in early September, and people are taking advantage of a stretch of warm weather. Families gather at bench tables, kids lark around the playground in the garden’s corner, and Jodi has led them to the table closest to the river. It’s away from the others, and she chose it partly so that she could plant the seed of her idea without anyone overhearing. It’s also peaceful so close to the flowing water. One time a couple of months back they’d seen a kingfisher dipping in and taking its lunch.

“Supposed to be a curse over it, too,” she mutters.

“Curse?” Matt and BB exchange a glance, and it carries the comfortable weight of decades of friendship. Perhaps that’s what makes Jodi feel a little distanced, but she thinks not. She thinks it’s because she’s glossing over something that has troubled her for fifteen years. Whenever she thinks of her dad’s final day it’s all blood and fire and death. 

BB chuckles. Matt sips his pint and rolls his eyes.

Then BB sits up straight and says, “We’ll be rural exploring! You know, like urban exploring except—”

“Except rural.” Matt glances around to make sure no one else is within earshot. Jodi is quiet – she’s always careful to keep her head down, subdued even, when she’s had a few drinks – but BB is getting louder. She knows very well that he’s pretty daring, doesn’t mind a bit of adventure, and loves the thrill of doing something a little off the chart. He alludes to a roguish past, but when she presses him on it he becomes a bit vague, as if the stories he has to tell belong to someone else. That’s fair enough; she gives him the same. She likes to think they’re beyond trying to impress each other, but she also knows she has to pitch this just right. It’s far too important to risk fucking it up. She could do it on her own, sure. But with Matt and BB in with her, it was much more likely to go right.

That’s why she’s waited until they are three drinks in.

They drift away from the conversation, and Matt tells them about a new contract he’s bid on that might take him away from town for a few weeks. It sounds like a good earner, but he doesn’t like being away from home. BB calls him a pussy. Matt tells him it’s his fucking round. BB goes into the pub, and Matt and Jodi chat and laugh and pointedly ignore the idea of breaking into and burgling an abandoned manor house.

Jodi is happy that the seed of the idea is planted, and confident that it will bloom.

Later, after they’ve eaten at the local Mexican restaurant, she and BB go home and crack open a bottle of wine. He drinks three glasses to her one, and she’s still just merry when he’s edging towards inebriated. He’s a loveable, affable drunk, laughing and soft and more open about his own feelings and failings. They cuddle up on the sofa and watch an old movie. They start kissing, and the movie is forgotten. Jodi jumps off, pushing away his grasping hands and leaving the room; a minute later she’s back, naked and spreadeagled above him, lowering herself teasingly down, telling him this is how she’ll Mission Impossible into Morgan Manor’s basement to grab the loot and that she won’t leave a trace.

By morning, fuzzy headed, BB has agreed with the idea, and he’s on the phone to Matt saying they should meet up to discuss “the adventure”. Jodi has insisted on this. No texts, no electronic mention of what they’re going to do. That’s half of how they’ll get away with it.

The other half is all down to her.

While BB is showering she sits in the garden with a coffee and thinks of her dead father, and how she’s spent so many years waiting to make the bastard who killed him pay. 

 

MATT

 

Matt woke at 3 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep. Jangling nerves kept him awake and made him sweat. He threw off the bed covers and got cold; pulled them over himself again. Stared at the ceiling. Took deep breaths and closed his eyes, ...