One week until Thursday's Child hit's Amazon and Pelican Book Group.
Thursday's Child chases the whole...
Broken...with bits missing. That's how Niamh, senior prosecutor for the CPS, feels when she wakes in hospital severely injured with no knowledge what happened--for the past ten years. A tall man in a firefighters uniform claims he's her husband. While he's everything she's ever dreamed of in a man and more, she doesn't know him. And if he was so important why can't she remember? Was there something so terrible, so painful in her marriage, her mind has suppressed it?
First on the scene at a horrific accident, Jared Harkin is devastated to find his wife one of the injured. He's already lost a child, can he live through this? Niamh survives the crash, but awakens with ten years missing and no memories of their life together. Determined to help her remember the past and their love, he sets about wooing her all over again. But are some things best forgotten?
As Niamh struggles to remember, the investigation into the accident reveals foul play. Did her recent caseload have anything to do with the attempt on her life? Or was it someone closer to her? As bit and pieces of memory return, the attacker strikes again. Can she piece together the whole of her past before it's too late?
Jared shouldered the gear. “Don’t mention it.” He headed towards the smashed vehicles, the oil and petrol from shattered engines and tanks, mixing with the rain water. Other firefighters started running out hose having considered the high risk of fire. He could hear them talking and equipment buzzing, the normal sounds of a shout mixing with what he knew he had to do.
He got closer to the red car. The woman lay slumped over the steering wheel, black hair stained red with blood. He looked at Steve. “Did you bring the trauma care kit?”
“Go get it. That way we can start treating her until the paramedics arrive.”
Steve nodded and ran back to the fire engine. Jared smiled and then moved closer to the car. Though the teeming rain he could make out the start of the number plate in the tangled wreckage. ROO. The rest of the plate was torn off.
It’s the same as Niamh’s. Don’t be silly. There are probably a thousand red cars that start ROO, if not more than that.
He got closer and suddenly the Station Manager, Brad Peters was there, blocking his path. “Jared…”
Jared looked at him. The look on the Guv’s face said it all. Oh, God, no, please… “Guv?”
“I’m sorry. It’s Niamh.”
Nausea and sheer panic filled him. Dropping the equipment to the ground, Jared moved as if in fire or lime. Everything slowed down, voices and sounds echoing. He shook off the arm that held him, his whole being determined to get to her, his eyes fixed on the wreck. Somewhere in that tortured and twisted hunk of metal was his wife.