Read an #Excerpt from #psychological #thriller LITTLE GIRL LOST by @carolewyer @bookouture #NewRelease

Please welcome Carol Wyer to my blog today. She’s here to share an exceprt from her psychological thriller, Little Girl Lost.


Carol Wyer became a full-time writer in 2010 when she turned her attention from writing children’s educational books as a hobby, to the adult market.

Her first two novels Mini Skirts and Laughter Lines and Surfing in Stilettos won several awards for humour and much attention from the media. Since then, she has appeared on numerous BBC radio stations, several international radio stations, NBC television and BBC Breakfast television, and Sky television discussing age-related subjects such as ‘Irritable Male Syndrome’ and ‘Grumpy Old Menopause’. In 2015 she won the prestigious People’s Book Prize Award for Grumpy Old Menopause.

Carol has written articles for, and featured in several national women’s magazines, including Take A Break, Choice, Woman’s Weekly and Woman’s Own who also wrote about her journey to becoming a best-selling author.

Author of ten humorous books –three non-fiction and seven fiction, Carol changed direction this year, and has written a series of psychological thrillers, and published by Bookouture, featuring DI Robyn Carter. The first, LITTLE GIRL LOST released in January 2017, has had some rave reviews and shows Carol has found her true niche. 


You can find Carol here:

Amazon UK Author Page:

Amazon US Author Page:









Her breath rose and fell in fearful gasps but it was too late. She could already see what she dreaded most. The back seat was empty.

 Bye, bye, Mummy.



 When a devoted teacher goes missing under suspicious circumstances and an actor is murdered at a local reservoir there’s no obvious link between the cases. But as DI Robyn Carter starts to delve deeper, her investigations lead her to Abigail, perfect wife and mother to beautiful little Izzy. What was Abigail’s connection to the victims? And why is she receiving threatening messages from an anonymous number? 

Robyn’s instincts tell her there’s a connection between these deaths, that it’s personal, but the last time she acted on impulse her fiancé was killed. To break this case and earn her place back on the force, she must learn to trust herself again – and fast.

 As she inches closer to the truth, Izzy is abducted. Unless she can get to the killer in time, a little girl will die.

 Gripping, fast paced and nailbitingly tense, this serial killer thriller will chill you to the bone. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Rachel Abbott and Karin Slaughter.



“Autumn was Paul’s favourite season. The wood took on rich colours; russets, chartreuse, and cardinal reds he wished he could capture on canvas. Then sycamore seeds, the samara or keys, would detach themselves with free-spirited abandonment and rotate to the ground like small helicopters. He wished he had spent time with Lucas and shown him such beauty. Maybe his son would have turned out differently if only Paul had invested the time. Bad father. You could learn so much from nature. Sycamores possess the ability to grow in the shade of their parent. What a shame Lucas had not grown in his father’s shade. Things would have been so different.

From the corner of his eye Paul spotted a movement but didn’t catch what it was. Deer often roamed in these woods and he had seen a roe deer only a couple of weeks ago, the russet brown of its rump and the flash of white of its under-tail as it fled into the dark woods.

He squinted as rays of light seeped through trees and blinded him temporarily, and then he felt the trees folding in on him, his brain not comprehending but his instinct forcing his arms forward to break the fall. He lay winded, hands grazed, a sharp pain in his right ankle. Then, grimacing, he hauled himself to an upright position, clinging onto the gnarly tree where he had fallen. A paper-thin piece of bark pulled away, crumbled and dropped its powder residue onto his bleeding fingers. He touched his face, already swollen, and traced a thick line of blood that trickled down his cheek.

His ankle protested at the weight on it. He had never fallen over before. He must be getting really old, he mused. He should take up a different activity. Then there was a crack. Someone or something was hidden in the trees, a walker, or a birdwatcher perhaps. He searched for life but saw nothing.

‘Hello! Is there anyone there? Could you give me hand? I’ve had a fall,’ he shouted. ‘Please,’ he shouted. There was no reply. He looked down at his cheap trainers, wondering if they were to blame for his accident, and spotted the reason he had tumbled. A piece of thick plastic rope like washing line was attached to the tree. Someone had intentionally tripped him.

He had no time to deliberate further. A figure came into view and stood by the trees.

An invisible hand gripped Paul’s pulsating heart. His senses told him to run but the pain emanating from his foot meant he would manage no more than a hobble.

The figure moved closer. Shadows fell across its face, creating a grotesque mask.

Paul drew a deep breath. ‘We need to talk. This is getting out of hand. We can sort it out.’

The figure moved even closer, and camouflaged against the trees it seemed like a spirit or angel floating towards him. It raised both hands, revealing what it had been hidden before.

Before he could react, the figure flew at him. A scream rose in his throat but did not reach his mouth. He dropped to the ground soundlessly. His final performance over.



“What a page turner! Wow. My head was spinning from the first page to the last.” 





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