Produktdetaljer
Biografisk notat
Hilde Vandermeeren is a major voice within Flemish crime writing: her third crime novel was shortlisted for the Golden Noose prize and the fifth won the Hercule Poiror prize. A trained psychologist, she specialised in psychological thrillers that are tightly and cinematically structured.Fast-paced... this intriguing story by the Flemish crime writer Hilde Vandermeeren is a reminder that there is a whole continent of thrills to discover beyond Scandinavia
The Times, Best New Thrillers
[A] dark, twisty tale... written by a psychologist who is also a truly gifted storyteller
Daily Mail
Hilde Vandermeeran weaves a smart tale
- Adam LeBor, Financial Times
The pages fly by... plenty of twists and turns
Irish Times
... A small masterpiece packed with tension, menace and truly original characters... Everything in the story bears the hallmark of first-class writing, from vivid cinematic scenes to gritty plot. The only downside is it will leave you impatient for her next book
Daily Mail
An expertly constructed crime novel with a beautiful international dimension. Vandermeeren is one of our greatest talents in the genre
De Standaard
A fantastic thriller that you want to read in one sitting
Het Nieuwsblad
A real page turner. You thunder at breakneck speed through a story that makes a lasting impression
Krant Van West-Vlaanderen
A compelling psychological page-turner and action-full yarn of great efficiency
Crime Time
'Fast and funny but full of jeopardy, this is part psychological drama, part high octane chase thriller and it's a 100% treat. A zippy and intelligent, if strange, plot bolstered by strong characters and a healthy dose of intrigue, betrayal, revenge and violence'
NB Magazine
'When you start this book you won't want to put it down. Great stuff'
The Journal of the Law Society of Scotland
She was woken by a high-pitched, piercing sound. It was
like a warning that penetrated her brain.
Run.
She wanted to sit up, but her body was too heavy. The same
lethargy kept her eyes closed and stopped her from screaming. She
tried to swallow the sour taste in her mouth, but it was no good.
She had no idea where she was. She could still hear that pulsing
note, like an alarm. Gradually, more sounds seeped in. Voices
that came from far away. A door closing.
And that smell.
She tried to think what the smell reminded her of. Medicine.
A child. That smell made her think of a child.
Something bad had happened to that child.
Again, she tried to sit, but a sharp pain shot up her neck to
the back of her head. The pain was new. She took it as a sign
that her body was slowly waking up. It was probably going to
be a few minutes before she could open her eyes and feel strong
enough to escape.
Because that was what she had to do. The child needed her.
The heaviness that held her captive came in waves. She could
feel herself getting sleepy again. The voices faded into the background,
and even the repetitive high-pitched notes became duller,
until they were no more than the dripping of a tap.
She struggled not to drift off.
Or she would be too late.
She repeated the thoughts that had passed through her mind.
There was a child.
Something bad had happened to that child.
Suddenly a voice came out of the darkness, no more than a
whisper.
And it was because of you.