Showing results by author "Maria Frankland" in All Categories

Inmitten einer Menge von Urlaubern bin ich die einzige Außenseiterin–ohne Begleitung, ohne Gepäck. Ein Rätsel inmitten der unbeschwerten Menge. Ich frage mich, was sie tun würden, wenn sie wüssten, wer ich bin. Wer ich wirklich bin...Wovor läuft Liz weg? Wer ist diese Frau, die mein Vater geheiratet hat? Hatte er eine Ahnung, wozu sie fähig war?

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who to trust. But someone out there knows what really happened to me. The faces staring back at me feel wrong, their voices uncomfortably distant. Ever since I woke from the coma, it’s like I’ve been locked in a stranger’s life. My memories are fractured – frozen at thirty, yet they insist I’m forty. A wife. A mother. But these strangers? They say they’re my family. Daniel, my husband, swears he loves me, yet I can’t recall saying ‘I do.’ My children’s faces stir nothing but guilt. Even the wedding album feels staged.

I open the front door and there’s Amy, smiling sweetly and ready to help. She’s been a lifesaver since Jon and I moved here–from walking the dog to picking up my little son Teddy from nursery last minute. I’m so lucky we met in the playground the first day we arrived. Amy is more than just a good friend. My only friend, really. Whenever Amy and Jon exchange glances I’m sure it seems like they’ve met before, even though Jon swears they haven’t. But then again Jon recognises lots of people from his childhood round here without truly knowing them.

Panic tears through Whispering Pines. Accusations fly and fingers point in every direction–until they settle on one person. Me. And now, the only way out of this winter retreat is to survive it.

As the car pulls up to my husband Dominic’s family home the night before Christmas, I suppress a shudder. I’ve never felt welcome here. His parents make it clear I’m a poor comparison to his perfect first wife, Carla. But I’m determined to lean into the festive cheer. Until Dominic’s mother bustles into our bedroom and blindsides me: ‘You won’t mind, will you. Carla is coming for the holidays. She’s still one of the family, and she can’t get home because of the storm.’ My eyes widen–did she and Carla plan this on purpose?

Sunny afternoons are the worst for a recovering alcoholic. But I’m doing OK and I’m proud of myself. I stretch out on my sun lounger with my book, basking in the peace before I have to collect my son from school. Then the gate rattles. It’s the police and judging by their expressions, they’re not here with good news. As I face the two officers, I try to dismiss what they’re telling me. My husband, Rob, can’t possibly be dead—I only saw him this morning. Besides, he’s the safest cyclist I know and would never put himself at risk.

Being stuck in this house with the husband I’m separating from is unbearable. Dexter barely looks at me. When he does, it’s like I’m not even here. It’s as if he’s already erased me from his life. He won’t engage with me at all and looks to be dragging a burden around with him – a guilty conscience perhaps? I spend hours with my Nan at her care home. She’s the only person I can talk to – the only person who’s always there for me. What’s worse is how Dexter’s taken over with our daughter, Etta – the girl who’s been my North, South, East and West since the day she was born.

Most people dread turning fifty. Not me. I’ve been counting down the weeks to our luxury holiday in Aruba – seven sun-soaked days to celebrate not just my own fiftieth birthday, but those of three lifelong friends. Two of them are just as excited as I am. The fourth? She took some persuading. With our partners in tow, we arrive at our lavish villa, bubbling with excitement and Prosecco. We’re here to relax, reconnect, and make memories. But in the heat and haze of paradise, inhibitions slip – and secrets spill.

From where I stand in the shadows outside the pub I own, I can already tell what mood my husband’s in and it makes me want to stay exactly where I am. However, I can also see my bar manager, Jay. Sexy, young and exciting, he’s the person who’s going to set me free from my middle-aged monotony. I’m dreading turning fifty more than I’ve dreaded any other birthday in my life. Now that my kids are at university, the prospect of spending the rest of my life with my bullying, balding and boring husband is a miserable one.

I keep getting the sense of being watched. But when I glance up, it’s not by the person I want it to be. Dale’s always busy doing something else. Really, I must have the most unromantic partner on the planet. Or so I thought. For Dale has prepared a Valentine’s Day surprise, and I don’t need asking twice to follow the clues I’ve found. I find my way to the remote cottage he’s booked, gobsmacked as I respond to his written instruction to enter.

Every time I turn the corner towards home, I yearn for Ed to have returned. But he’s not coming back. The man I thought was my forever has been living a lie with me since the moment we met. I’m sick of hearing his voicemail message. I’m even more sick of the unanswered texts. He’s left me completely in the dark and I can’t even give our kids an answer to their never-ending question, ‘When’s Daddy coming back?’

This collection contains Book 1 - Undercurrents, Book 2 – Drowned Voices, and Book 3 – Emergence.

Today’s the day. The things I’ve packed are hidden away and I’m waiting for the go-ahead to collect the keys to the new house. I’m so close to escaping Justin’s moods, his drinking and his violent tendencies, which are gradually getting worse. His promises of change mean nothing anymore and I’ve got to get away from him. But a national lockdown has just been announced.

I stand at the front door and meticulously check my reflection in the glass. I must look perfect to meet Lou's new boyfriend. I haven't been invited but best friends don't require invitations, right? Her presence has always been a constant, demanding focus in my life. Now, however, it's evolving into something deeper, with unsettling imitations and intrusive encroachments into every aspect of my world. The struggle to create distance only seems to intensify Donna's attachment, Pulling her dangerously closer.

Beautiful, bright-eyed Michelle Jackson, a loving wife and mother, has been killed. Her husband Paul is accused of murdering her. Their little girl Emily, numb with grief, is refusing to speak. You’ll hate Paul for what he’s done. Everyone said they were the perfect couple, always holding hands. They did everything together. But when you hear about their whispered arguments and the terrible lies they both told, you’ll be certain Paul is guilty. But everything you think you know is wrong. After all, behind closed doors every marriage has secrets. And some are deadlier than others.

Becoming Tom’s mum had always robbed me of the chance to sleep, and here I was, fifteen years on, alone in the dead of night, longing to be able to rest like everyone else. When I saw the thin blue line on my pregnancy test, I dared to hope for a future of blissful motherhood. From his very first night in the world, Tom did not sleep. By the time he was six months old, I was a single parent and almost maddened with tiredness.

It was supposed to be a holiday to fix the cracks in our fractured family. I knew the seven days would be endless, but I never imagined that one of us would only survive for six of them… As I carry my case into the charming and rustic cottage and smile at my sister-in-law, Kelli, I allow myself a moment of hope. Perhaps this holiday will force our family to address our long-held grudges and leave with the promise of a happier future.

Ich steh vor der Haustür und überprüfe mein Spiegelbild im Glas ganz genau. Ich muss perfekt aussehen, um Lous neuen Freund zu treffen. Ich wurde nicht eingeladen, aber beste Freunde brauchen doch keine Einladungen, oder? Scott kommt zur gleichen Zeit wie Donna, sodass ich keine andere Wahl habe, als sie hereinzubitten, obwohl ich klar gemacht habe, dass sie bei dem heutigen Treffen nicht dabei sein muss. Bei diesem Essen geht es darum, Scott meiner Mutter und meiner Tochter vorzustellen – eine Tatsache, die Donna bequem ignoriert.

As I walk into the pine-scented air of my seaside childhood home, gripping my husband Neil’s hand tight, I have a brief moment of hope. Maybe this Christmas will be different — for once my family might get on fueled by mulled wine and festive cheer. But the sound of happy carols are replaced by my older sister Christy’s over-loud laugh and slurred words. Rebecca, my younger sister, stalks out of the room as soon as I enter, as though I’m the Grinch here to steal Christmas. And their husbands, brash and arrogant, slap Neil’s back in a way that promises torment rather than welcome.

I’m dreading turning fifty more than I’ve dreaded any other birthday in my life. Now that my kids are at university, the prospect of spending the rest of my life with my bullying, balding, and boring husband is a miserable one. Which is why I employed Jay. He gives me the reason I need to get up, to go on and to look forwardand I’ll do anything to keep him.