Cover Reveal + Excerpt: SOMETIMES I LIE by Alice Feeney

I’m thrilled to be partnering with Flatiron Books to bring you a preview of one of 2018’s hottest psychological thrillers: SOMETIMES I LIE by Alice Feeney (3/13/18)! This compulsively-readable, masterfully-plotted thriller has already received glowing praise from thriller authors and readers alike, and I'm considering it a 2018 must-read. 

In this post, you’ll find the book’s gorgeous cover, the author's bio, and an excerpt from SOMETIMES I LIE to give you a little taste of what you have to look forward to in Spring 2018! I'm actually going to skip sharing the plot summary for this title—I think it's better to dive into this excerpt blind, and just soak up the brilliance of this plot. 

Plus: If you’re attending Book Expo America this June, keep an eye out for a galley giveaway from Flatiron Books! 

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Praise for SOMETIMES I LIE

“A gripping debut with a brilliant twist, I LOVED it!” —BA Paris, New York Times bestselling author of Behind Closed Doors
 
“I read this in one compulsive gulp in one day. It’s SO fiendishly clever—an absolute masterclass in plotting and narrative design.” —Richard Skinner
 
“Exceptional in plotting…Expect perfectly embedded twists and sharply drawn characters. A brilliant thriller.” —Ali Land, author of Good Me, Bad Me

“Tightly plotted, superbly written, this is a thriller that grabs you and holds you in its thrall. This story of a woman in a coma recalling the violence in her life gave me just enough information to remain entirely gripped yet sufficiently little that I didn’t know where I’d find the answers, or even the questions at times. I was led―completely willingly―in various different directions and until the final few pages I was baffled yet engrossed. And then, suddenly, at the very end, everything became clear. A brilliantly assured debut and a real achievement.” ―Nicholas Searle, author of international bestseller The Good Liar

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About the Author

ALICE FEENEY is a writer and journalist. She has spent 15 years with BBC News where she worked as a Reporter, News Editor, Arts and Entertainment Producer and One O'Clock News Producer. Alice is a recent graduate of the Faber Academy Writing a Novel course. Alice has lived in London and Sydney and has now settled in the Surrey countryside, where she lives with her husband and dog. 

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EXCERPT: SOMETIMES I LIE BY ALICE FEENEY

Prologue & Chapter 1

My name is Amber Reynolds. There are three things you should know about me:
 
1. I’m in a coma.
2. My husband doesn’t love me anymore.
3. Sometimes I lie.
 
I’ve always delighted in the free fall between sleep and wakefulness. Those precious few semiconscious seconds before you open your eyes, when you catch yourself believing that your dreams might just be your reality. A moment of intense pleasure or pain, before your senses re- boot and inform you who and where and what you are. For now, for just a second longer, I’m enjoying the self-medicated delusion that permits me to imagine that I could be anyone, I could be anywhere, I could be loved.

I sense the light behind my eyelids and my attention is drawn to the platinum band on my finger. It feels heavier than it used to, as though it is weighing me down. A sheet is pulled over my body. It smells unfamiliar and I consider the possibility that I’m in a hotel. Any memory of what I dreamt evaporates. I try to hold on, try to be someone and stay somewhere I am not, but I can’t. I am only ever me and I am here, where I already know I do not wish to be. My limbs ache and I’m so very tired; I don’t want to open my eyes, until I remember that I can’t.

Panic spreads through me like a blast of icy cold air. I can’t recall where this is or how I got here, but I know who I am. My name is Amber Reynolds. I am thirty-five years old. I’m married to Paul. I repeat these three things in my head, holding on to them tightly, as though they might save me, but I’m mindful that some part of the story is lost, the last few pages ripped out. When the memories are as complete as I can manage, I bury them until they are quiet enough inside my head to allow me to think, to feel, to try to make sense of it all. One memory refuses to comply, fighting its way to the surface, but I don’t want to believe it.

The sound of a machine breaks into my consciousness, stealing my last few fragments of hope and leaving me with nothing except the unwanted knowledge that I am in a hospital. The sterilized stench of the place makes me want to gag. I hate hospitals. They are the home of death and regrets that missed their slots, not somewhere I would ever choose to visit, let alone stay.

There were people here before, strangers, I remember that now. They used a word I chose not to hear. I recall lots of fuss, raised voices, and fear, not just my own. I struggle to unearth more, but my mind fails me. Something very bad has happened, but I cannot remember what or when.

Why isn’t he here?
It can be dangerous to ask a question when you already know the answer.
He does not love me.
I bookmark that thought.

I hear a door open. Footsteps, then the silence returns but it’s spoiled, no longer pure. I can smell stale cigarette smoke, the sound of pen scratching paper to my right. Someone coughs to my left and I realize there are two of them. Strangers in the dark. I feel colder than before and so terribly small. I have never known a terror like the one that takes hold of me now.

I wish someone would say something. 
“Who is she?” asks a woman’s voice.
“No idea. Poor love, what a mess,” replies another woman. 
I wish they’d said nothing at all. I start to scream.
My name is Amber Reynolds! I’m a radio presenter! Why don’t you know who I am?
I shout the same sentences over and over, but they ignore me, because on the outside I am silent. On the outside, I am nobody and I have no name.

I want to see the me they have seen. I want to sit up, reach out and touch them. I want to feel something again. Anything. Anyone. I want to ask a thousand questions. I think I want to know the answers. They used the word from before too, the one I don’t want to hear.

The women leave, closing the door behind them, but the word stays behind, so that we are alone together and I am no longer able to ignore it. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t move. I can’t speak. The word bubbles to the surface, popping on impact, and I know it to be true.

Coma.

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Creepy, right?! I am so excited to dive into SOMETIMES I LIE as we get closer to its publication in the US, and I would love to hear from you if this one catches your eye! If you're as intrigued by this one as I am, you can always pre-order it via Amazon. PLUS: make sure to enter my giveaway for one advance copy of the book on Instagram! 

Thank you to Flatiron Books for providing me with a copy of SOMETIMES I LIE by Alice Feeney. The above Prologue and Chapter One of SOMETIMES I LIE are excerpted by permission of Flatiron Books. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without the permission of the publisher.