Hello, Book Lovers!

Just like Missing and Duplicity, I’ve decided to share the opening scenes from my new first-in-series murder mystery novella, The Candidate, with you. As you might have guessed, the candidate is the first novella in a new series called the “Rookie Reporter Mysteries”, featuring James Lalonde. If you want to know more about this new series, check out this blog post and YouTube video.

A few weeks ago, I shared the first four chapters with my James Lalonde insiders. As I pressed the send button on that email, I realised that I hadn’t shared a sneak peek with you. So, if you want news before anyone else, I highly recommend signing up to become an insider.

Without further ado, here is a bit about the story.

PROLOGUE

June 28, 2010, 11:57 p.m.

Gasping for air, Albert opened his eyes. As the crystal chandelier on the high ceiling came into view, he groaned. With a deep breath, he gripped the bodkin arrow wedged into his chest and pulled. Gritting his teeth, Albert rolled onto his side.

The room spun as crimson flowed from the wound in his chest. Discarding the mediaeval arrow, Albert reached for his walking cane. The blasted thing has finally come in handy for the first time since my ice-skating accident.

Albert scrambled to his feet and made his way to his antique desk and sat. Perched on the edge of the desk, he tugged on his tie until it slipped into his hands. Taking another deep breath, Albert straightened his tie and secured it around his chest, over the arrow wound. 

With a sigh, Albert glanced at the ceiling. Don’t wake her, you fool. She’s thirty-two weeks pregnant. You’ll just stress her out. That’s the last thing she needs. He needed to get to a hospital without waking his wife. My phone. Albert surveyed the tabletop and his study. Then he remembered. Earlier in the evening, his phone went flat after he’d binged his favourite unsolved mysteries podcast. He placed it on the charging dock on his bedside table. There was no way he could descend the stairs in his condition. Pulling out the arrow was a mistake. Why did you do that, you old fool? 

Thanks to his stupidity, he would bleed to death in less than ten minutes. The room spun. Even if Albert had his phone, calling emergency services would be useless. The nearest hospital was nineteen minutes away. As Emma’s pregnancy progressed, Albert had learned the route and calculated the distance between his house and the hospital. He had measured the quickest route between his house and the hospital while driving over the speed limit. What am I going to do?

Leaning back, Albert stared at the ceiling. Calling emergency services was crossed off his list, so he had only one option left. Who am I kidding? I’m not going to survive this, not at sixty-one. Maybe if I were twenty years younger.

Albert grimaced as a wave of pain swept through his body. Then he realised something. His destination was only a ten-minute drive away. There would be no traffic at that time of night. He sighed in relief. His reckless decision would ruin no innocent lives.

As the clock on the mantel chimed midnight, Albert grabbed his keys off the desk. Another wave of pain swept through his body. He grimaced as he thrust his frame off the tabletop then staggered across the thick carpet towards the door, which was ajar. Albert smirked as he heard his cane hit the floor. 

Frightened that he was going to wake his wife, Albert gritted his teeth. He clutched the doorframe for support as the room spun. I’ve lost at least half a litre of blood. 

Curious, Albert glanced over his shoulder at the carnage he was leaving. Leaning against the wall for support, Albert staggered down the hall and towards the foyer. He soon regretted the foyer renovations and those shiny white tiles that his wife, Emma, loved so much. As he reached the end of the hallway, Albert wheezed. Only twenty feet left.

Albert shuffled across the tiles and sighed as he unlatched the locks on the front door. He grabbed the handle and turned it. A tear trickled down Albert’s cheek as he realised he would never get to take his daughter home from the hospital or kiss his wife again.

After closing the door behind him, Albert stumbled towards his silver Mercedes. He pressed the button on his key fob. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle of the car door. Peering over his shoulder, Albert grimaced. He was glad that he had been too lazy to close the driveway gates when he came home earlier that evening. He slumped into the driver’s seat, closed the door, then reversed out of the driveway. All I have to do is not pass out behind the wheel.

I hope you loved the first chapter and found it intriguing. Unfortunately, I’m no longer providing advanced reader copies. But you can buy The Candidate direct from me for £2.49 by clicking the button below.

Happy reading, everybody!

Amelia xx