Psychological Thriller Suspense

Haunted by loss, graphic designer Julie retreats to an isolated lake cabin, desperate for solitude and escape. But grief doesn't stay quiet, and neither does the past. When Julie glimpses a frightened boy on a nearby dock, everything she thought she understood about her reality begins to fracture. Everyone insists the boy doesn't exist. Her ex-husband thinks she's imagining things. The police are disbelieving. Even Mark, her enigmatic neighbor who seems too eager to help, is unsure. Is she losing her mind, or is someone trying to make her believe she is?

He wakes on a cold floor, his mind a perfect blank. A dead man lies beside him, and the only clues are a wallet with his name, and keys to a life he can’t remember. Each step is shadowed by the chilling certainty that he is not who he seems. His search for the truth leads him to a past more terrifying than the amnesia. Maybe some memories are buried for a reason, and the truth may destroy the last remnants of his soul.

As the third wave of the virus hits, all inhabitants of Melbourne are given until 8pm to get to their homes. Wherever they are when the curfew hits, they must live for four weeks and stay within a 5km radius. When Lou’s son Samuel doesn’t arrive home by nightfall she begins to panic. He doesn’t answer his phone. He doesn’t message. His social media channels are inactive. Lou is out of her mind with worry, but she can’t go to the police, because she has secrets of her own. Secrets that Samuel just can’t find out about. Lou must find her son herself and bring him home.

My darling little boy Albie adores playing at our new neighbours’ house. And after the terrible year we’ve had, I feel so lucky that we can start over in this perfect place, with new friends who treat Albie like the son they never had. He can’t stop talking about the tree house they’re building him, and the cookies they bake together. But as time passes, something starts to feel wrong. Why don’t they ever open the front door more than a crack? They told me they had no children so who does the small pink tricycle I saw in their hall belong to?

It seems like the perfect job. Great wages, accommodation provided and all located within the walls of Highwood Hall, a stunning stately home owned by the Howard family. Not many little girls dream of becoming a maid, but this is an opportunity for me to get back on my feet. And for me to revisit my past....

My name’s Kimberley. I’m twenty-five. I have epilepsy, a seizure alert dog named Muffin, and a job I love as a senior housekeeper in one of London’s top hotels. I’m used to being invisible. Overlooked. Safe. But that was before Jennifer Clifton checked in. She’s rich, powerful, terrifyingly calm — and she asks for me by name. She offers me my dream job, working in her exclusive hotel in the Scottish Highlands. It’s more money than I ever imagined.

My darling son, Sam, is marrying his childhood sweetheart, and I couldn’t be prouder of the man he’s grown into. Walking out on his abusive father all those years ago was the best thing I ever did. And today he stands, tall and handsome, saying "I do" to my dream daughter-in-law. If I hadn’t pushed them together all those years ago, he might never have found a girl as perfect as Lauren. It’s true what they say, mother always knows best.

At exactly 1: 45pm, three phones buzz with the same message: I know what you did on Valentine’s Day. Alice… Faith sees it first. Mick sees it next. River sees it last. Each recipient carries a secret from the day Alice vanished, secrets entwined with the whispers of Blackstone, a village where death is never as simple as it seems. So, did Alice disappear by choice? Or has she fallen victim to a killer with a twisted idea of mercy? Someone has been watching. Someone knows. And when another body appears, it’s clear the message is more than a threat—it’s a countdown.

When Sariah Simmons accepts a week-long babysitting position for the affluent Rodwell family, she sees it as the perfect opportunity. But behind the pristine walls of their suburban home, she discovers disturbing signs that something isn't right. Caroline Rodwell, a traveling nurse, keeps everything under strict control. Her husband Richard maintains their picture-perfect image. But basements hold secrets, and perfect families often hide the darkest truths.

Liza Cole has 30 days to write the thriller that could put her back on the best seller list. In the meantime, she's struggling to start a family with her husband, who is distracted by the disappearance of his best friend, Nick. With stresses weighing her down in both her professional and her personal lives, Liza escapes into writing her latest heroine, Beth. Beth is a new mother who suspects her husband is cheating on her while she's home alone caring for their newborn. Then the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur.

Hi, I'm Keshav, and my life is screwed. I hate my job and my girlfriend left me. Ah, the beautiful Zara. Zara is from Kashmir. She is a Muslim. And did I tell you my family is a bit, well, traditional? Anyway, leave that. Zara and I broke up four years ago. She moved on. I didn't. I drank every night to forget her, I called, I messaged, and stalked her on social media. She just ignored me. However, that night, on the eve of her birthday, Zara messaged me. She called me over, like old times, to her hostel room 105.

I thought moving to this quiet cul-de-sac was the fresh start my husband and I needed, escaping the noise of our cramped flat in Hounslow. I left India and all that was familiar for a new life with him in England. But my husband works all hours, leaving me alone in a house that doesn’t feel like a home. Our neighbours notice the bruises on my arms. They draw the obvious conclusions. They seem kind, but they’re hiding something. I just can’t shake the feeling that someone is always watching me . . . waiting. My husband’s working late. Again. That’s when I see it.

Tess Prescott's summer at the luxurious Breakers Resort was supposed to be a picture-perfect getaway—long days by the lake, family dinners, and perhaps a little harmless summer romance. But when she falls for Jason Moretti, a man with ties to a dangerous crime syndicate, her world begins to spiral into something far more sinister.

Her blue eyes wide open, glossed over. A few specks of sand clung to her long, dark lashes. Her beautiful face, immobile, covered in sparkling flecks of sand. Who is the beautiful girl found at dawn, on a deserted stretch of white sand beach? What is her secret? FBI special agent Tess Winnett searches for answers relentlessly. With each step, each new finding, she uncovers unsettling facts leading to a single possible conclusion: Dawn Girl is not the only victim. Her killer has killed before.

Trapped in a relationship that has become her prison, Adelle Roberts has learned to survive by making herself invisible. Alonzo controls every aspect of her life—who she sees, where she goes, even what she wears. His charm conceals a monster who punishes the slightest perceived betrayal. When Alonzo forces Adelle to join a gym to lose weight, she stumbles across a kickboxing class and glimpses a possible escape. Except Latifa, her trainer, seems to be harder on her than Alonzo has ever been. What's more is that Latifa seems to be holding a few dark secrets of her own.

When Cassie and Ana return to their childhood home in rural Connecticut, among their deceased mother’s belongings they stumble across an unpublished manuscript: a murder mystery, written by their mom's girlfriend AJ —and featuring their mother as a key character. Cassie, a writer, wants to turn the old story into a bestseller. Ana, fearful of what they will learn, wants to destroy it.

My little girl’s room is dark. Her bed is empty. I turn on her unicorn nightlight and bury my face in her pillow, my heart breaking. I know who did this. His name is Samuel Barlow. He has pale sallow skin and red-rimmed icy-blue eyes. But no one will listen. As darkness falls and rain lashes against the window, there’s a knock at my door and I open it to see those same eyes staring back at me. It’s his mother and she says she can help me find my daughter.

The doorbell rings, just days after my beloved husband’s sudden death. I don’t recognise the woman on our doorstep, with her blonde highlights, a diamond bracelet identical to my own and a bouncing baby boy in her arms. As I show her inside, I notice her eyes grow wide as she takes in our spacious hallway, and the big squashy sofas that we all used to pile on. She glances at the silver-framed family photos and my little daughter hiding behind my skirts. She looks at me, her blue eyes serious. ‘I’m sorry’ she says. ‘I am your husband’s girlfriend. And this is his son.'

I know I’m lucky. I have a stunning Cheltenham apartment and a charming weekend cottage in Devon. Chris, my partner, is kind and supportive. He loves me in spite of my scars—the result of a childhood incident I don’t talk about. Most of all, I love my job, helping young women with eating disorders. But I can’t help everyone, as I tell Kyle Stannard. Kyle was once a top male model—before he was left horrifically scarred in a random attack. Kyle thinks we’re the same, but I can’t help him with his problems. It’s not my field. Then creepy things start to happen.

Samantha Frayn doesn’t know why Peter Bridges picks her - a nobody with bitten fingernails and a troubled childhood behind her - but she falls quickly. He’s older, charming, likes fine wine and French films, and his beautiful home has real art on its walls. Peter transforms Samantha’s life in an instant. He sees the better version of herself - the one she’s always wanted to be. It’s only normal that there’s a little friction, when she moves in, over domestic matters like where things are kept, or the proper times to eat, sleep, and shower.