Hello and welcome to my stop on the blog tour for Her Last Breath by Tracy Buchanan! Read on for an exclusive extract of this utterly gripping, emotionally captivating book!
What They Say:
The perfect life. Or the perfect lie?
A fifteen-year-old girl has gone missing. They say Poppy O’Farrell has run away from her celebrity parents, and the media is in a frenzy. But none of this has anything to do with successful lifestyle blogger Estelle Forster - so why would someone send her a picture of the missing girl – and a note, claiming to know Estelle’s secrets?
One small photograph will push Estelle’s pristine life to the brink of disaster. To find out who is threatening her, Estelle must return to her coastal hometown and the shameful past she thought was long behind her.
Estelle knows there’s more to Poppy’s disappearance than teenage rebellion. A dangerous game is being played, and the answers lie in the impenetrable community she once called her own.
But how will anyone believe her, if she can’t tell them the truth?
Her Last Breath is an addictive, twisting and emotionally powerful book that will have you hooked until the very last page.
Exclusive Extract From Her Last Breath:
Estelle’s dinner party was going perfectly. A soft breeze filtered in through the chiffon curtains, lifting the corners of the organic cotton napkins she’d so carefully chosen. There was the distant tinkle of a police siren above the acoustic guitar music drifting out from her speakers, adding to the ‘sophisticated get-together in the city’ ambience.
On the wall was the painting she’d bought with some of the advance she’d received for her book: a minimalist canvas featuring a simple apple tree against brilliant white. And, of course, laid out on the large misshaped driftwood table were her signature dishes: a vast cauliflower pizza sprinkled with locally sourced lamb cubes; zucchini fritters with Greek yoghurt; carrot quinoa muffins; and chunky chickpea dips with crunchy vegetable crisps.
In the middle of it all, taking pride of place, was the first edition of Estelle’s book, fresh off the printers. On the cover was an apple tree, much like the one on the canvas, plain and simple against a blue cloudless sky. Beneath the tree stood Estelle beside a wooden table filled with fresh vegetables, fruit and meat, her short blonde hair swept across her forehead, her slim body casting a shadow on the grassy knoll behind her. She was dressed in her signature white, this time a plain white cotton dress, highlighting her subtle tan. She smiled into the sun, her oval brown eyes looking at the camera. Held up in the palm of her hand was an apple. And above it all, four letters in glossy white: PURE. The name of her first book.
Estelle took a photo of the table with her phone, and uploaded it to Instagram with the caption: Early copies in of my book! Let the celebrations begin . . . #Pure #foodie #nom
Her editor Silvia leaned over and smoothed her fingertips over the book cover. ‘I always love the feel of a first edition,’ she said, smiling at Estelle.
‘And the smell,’ Giles, her husband, another eminent editor, said, leaning down for a quick sniff.
Everyone laughed and Estelle joined in. God, it felt good to be here with her closest friends, celebrating the success she’d worked so bloody hard for.
‘Everyone dig in,’ Estelle said, standing up. ‘I’ll just get some more wine; can’t believe you’ve already polished off three bottles!’
She walked away from the table smiling to herself, the bottom of her long white skirt swishing around her ankles as she padded barefoot into her large state-of-the-art kitchen. When she was out of sight, she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the large cool fridge, taking in a deep breath. She’d spent half the day cooking; she was exhausted. But it was worth it. She turned back around, taking in the happy scene in the room next door. Yes, it was worth it. She’d fought so hard for this.
She deserved to celebrate.