Title: Reaper’s Rhythm
Author: Clare Davidson
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Smudged Ink
Editor: Rebecca Tsaros Dickson
Cover Designer: Bramasta Aji
Blurb:
When everyone thinks your sister committed suicide, it’s hard to prove she was murdered.
Kim is unable to accept Charley’s sudden death. Crippled by an unnatural amnesia, her questions are met with wall after wall. As she doubts her sanity, she realises her investigation is putting those around her in danger.
The only person who seems to know anything is Matthew, an elusive stranger who would rather vanish than talk. Despite his friendly smile, Kim isn’t sure she can trust him. But if she wants to protect her family from further danger, Kim must work with Matthew to discover how Charley died – before it’s too late.
Clare Davidson is a self-motivated, character driven fantasy writer, mother, teacher and all-round creative whizz, from the UK. Clare was born in Northampton, but spent her early years living in Malaysia, before coming home and settling with her family in Leeds. After spending time at Lancaster University where she met her husband, Clare has now returned to Leeds with husband, daughter, new baby son, crazy puppy Rukia and Pirate the white cat in tow. In between being a full-time mother, wife and domestic goddess (in theory) and being plagued by various animals, Clare is the author of the fantasy book Trinity and more recently, the urban fantasy series Hidden. Her aim is to drag you into her fantasy worlds and never let you go. She's evil that way!
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Charley’s lying on the bed, her blond hair fanned out over the pillow. Her arms are spread wide, palms up. Crimson blood drips from deep slashes on her wrists. Her blue eyes are open, staring at the ceiling. But they don't see. They're dull, empty.
Dead.
The room spins. My stomach lurches and bile rises up my throat. I swallow and clap my hand to my mouth. Sagging against the doorframe, I can’t tear my gaze from the single lock of hair resting over Charley’s porcelain cheek. What should I do?
Charley would know what to do.
As I stumble down the stairs, my mind clicks into gear. A scream rips out of my throat, eclipsing the pounding music. My foot slips on the beige carpet, sending me tumbling down the remaining stairs. My shoulder and back slam against the wall. I scramble to my feet, screaming, sobbing, then stagger into the hallway, colliding into a young man with the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen.
My own force knocks me backwards. His strong grip clenches my arm, preventing me from falling. I try to scream again, but the sound is trapped within my constricting chest. My sister is dead. A stranger is in my house.