The Intruders by Louise Jensen

EXCERPT: I’ve identified sounds, taste, touch and smells but now there’s something else.
A feeling.
A slow crawl of trepidation from the tips of my toes to the top of my scalp.
I stop abruptly. ‘James,’ my tone is urgent now, ‘I don’t like this anymore . . .’
‘Relax Cass. We’re here.’
He fumbles to untie the blindfold and then I’m blinking in the unaccustomed brightness. Curved around me is a horseshoe shaped manor house. With its wings stretching either side of me I feel like the house is holding me.
Gripping me.
Despite the low temperature a flush of heat rushes through me. I push up the sleeves of my jumper. Stepping back, my eyes scan the black and white Tudor timberwork above the entrance. The iron ‘Newington House’ sign blistered with rust.
Ivy clings to the stone building. There’s a sense of someone watching me through the small leaded windows.
This is not a tourist attraction. That much is clear from the unkempt courtyard. The tangle of weeds and nettles.
A crow lands in the tree to my left; he screeches, and it sounds like a warning.

ABOUT ‘THE INTRUDERS’: They were told to leave. They should have listened.

It should be the perfect opportunity: a manor house available rent free in exchange for a bit of housesitting. But when Cass and James dig deeper, they find the place has been abandoned since a robbery left almost all the inhabitants dead almost thirty years ago. But they’ve got to save for a deposit somehow, so they move in, and things quickly take a strange turn. Objects disappear and turn up in odd places, the clock always stops at the same time, and the house is oppressive yet strangely familiar. Could it just be bad memories, or are the house’s secrets a little closer to home?

MY THOUGHTS: There’s no such thing as a free lunch – or, in this case, a free house.

The Intruders by Louise Jensen will put your spidey senses on high alert. There’s an insidious creepiness to the storyline. Nothing major, or over the top, just little unexplained things. Things that eat into Cass’s mind, but that James seems able to explain away. Logically. Calmly. The sounds of children playing. Singing. The smell of freshly cut lemons. The hairbrush that won’t stay in the drawer. A window that opens itself. The clock that stops every day at 8.30 p.m. . . . .

I don’t blame Cass for feeling spooked. Especially when James has to go away on business. And Cass has had problems in the past – a little mental disturbance, or two.

The story is told over two timelines – now and thirty years ago when the Madley family lived, and was murdered, in Newington House. Louise Jensen cleverly manipulates the storyline – I had no idea where she was taking me but was quite happy to go along for the ride – and throws in a few stunning twists. She creates a chilling atmosphere with a palpable air of mystery surrounding all the characters.

And the ending? – Twisted. You’ll need to suspend your belief. It is disturbing but strangely fitting.

I listened to the audiobook of The Intruders which was superbly narrated by Helen Keeley.

And don’t skip the author’s note at the end where she relates how this book came about.

⭐⭐⭐⭐.3

#TheIntruders #NetGalley

THE AUTHOR: When I was little I was obsessed by Enid Blyton. Her characters were so real to me they became my friends. I often huddled under my covers, stifling my yawns and straining my eyes, as I read ‘just one more page’ by torchlight.

Mr Townsend, my primary school English teacher always encouraged my love of literature, and it wasn’t long before I’d read everything my school had to offer. The first book I created was six pages long, had stick-man illustrations and was sellotaped together. I was immensely proud of it. Writing was a huge part of my life, until one day it wasn’t.

I can’t remember ever making a conscious decision to stop writing but it became easier to act on the advice I was given – ‘grow up and get a proper job’ – and my dreams were tightly packed away, gathering dust for the next twenty years.

My thirties were a car crash. Literally. I sustained injuries which when coupled with a pre-existing condition forced me to radically change my lifestyle. I felt utterly lost and utterly alone. Always an avid reader I began to devour books at an alarming rate. ‘You’ll have read every book in here soon,’ my local librarian said. ‘You’ll have to write your own.’

And there was a flicker, a shift, a rising of hope. I grasped that nugget of possibility and I wrote. I wrote when I was happy. I wrote when I was sad. I wrote when I was scared and in-between writing, I read, read and read some more. Words have the power to lift, to heal. They have illuminated my world, which for a time became very dark.

As Anne Frank said ‘I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.’

DISCLOSURE: Thank you to Harper Collins UK Audio, HQ via NetGalley for providing a digital ARC of The Intruders written by Louise Jensen and narrated by Helen Keeley. All opinions expressed in this review are entirely my own personal opinions.

Watching what I’m reading . . .

Welcome to a cool and showery New Zealand Sunday afternoon. We have the fire lit and are having a very lazy weekend with a lot of reading done by both of us in between the Supercar and F1 racing.

So, what am I currently reading?

Voices in the Dark by Fleur McDonald was published in October 23, so while it doesn’t qualify as a “Beat the Backlist’ title it is a catch-up read for me. I have read several of this authors books over the years and always enjoy her Australian Outback stories. Voices in the Dark is an excellent family drama. This title also counts towards my April Aussie Readers challenge.

When Sassi Stapleton receives a middle-of-the-night phone call to tell her that her beloved grandmother is unwell, she quickly puts her job on hold, packs her ute and sets off on the long drive home, knowing her grandfather will need her.

Less than an hour away from Sassi’s hometown, Barker, she swerves to miss a roo and her car rolls down an embankment. By the time Sassi is found, her grandmother has already passed away.

On the other side of the world, Sassi’s estranged mother, Amber, receives a similar call and shocks the whole family when she flies home from South Africa.

With everyone under the same roof, tensions escalate as Amber’s secrecy and odd behaviour become unsettling. What is she really doing at home with a father she’s barely spoken to since she left years ago? And will Amber and Sassi ever be able to reconnect?

I am listening to The Intruders by Louise Jensen. It is a very intriguing and slightly unsettling mystery.

They were told to leave. They should have listened.

The perfect opportunity…

A manor house available rent-free to house-sitters is an offer too good to miss for Cass and James, who have been saving for a deposit on their own home for so long.

Although it had been abandoned for almost thirty years, after a home invasion left almost all the inhabitants dead, it is an amazing chance for them to build their future.

But is it worth the price?

Shortly after moving in things take a sinister turn. Objects disappear and turn up in odd places, the clock always stops at the same time, the house is strangely oppressive and sometimes it feels like Cass and James are not alone.

Newington House may have bad energy, and a dark reputation. But surely there’s no reason for history to repeat itself, is there?

I have four books to read for review this week.

The Flower Sisters by Michelle Collins Anderson is a historical fiction that is based on a true story and will be my next read.

Daisy Flowers is fifteen in 1978 when her free-spirited mother dumps her in Possum Flats, Missouri. It’s a town that sounds like roadkill and, in Daisy’s eyes, is every bit as dead. Sentenced to spend the summer living with her grandmother, the wry and irreverent town mortician, Daisy draws the line at working for the family business, Flowers Funeral Home. Instead, she maneuvers her way into an internship at the local newspaper where, sorting through the basement archives, she learns of a mysterious tragedy from fifty years earlier…

On a sweltering, terrible night in 1928, an explosion at the local dance hall left dozens of young people dead, shocking and scarring a town that still doesn’t know how or why it happened. Listed among the victims is a name that’s surprisingly familiar to Daisy, revealing an irresistible family connection to this long-ago accident.

Obsessed with investigating the horrors and heroes of that night, Daisy soon discovers Possum Flats holds a multitude of secrets for a small town. And hardly anyone who remembers the tragedy is happy to have some teenaged hippie asking questions about it – not the fire-and-brimstone preacher who found his calling that tragic night; not the fed-up police chief; not the mayor’s widow or his mistress; not even Daisy’s own grandmother, a woman who’s never been afraid to raise eyebrows in the past, whether it’s for something she’s worn, sworn, or done for a living.

Some secrets are guarded by the living, while others are kept by the dead, but as buried truths gradually come into the light, they’ll force a reckoning at last.

Inspired by the true story of the Bond Dance Hall explosion, a tragedy that took place in the author’s hometown of West Plains, Missouri on April 13, 1928.

The cause of the blast has never been determined.

The Trial by Jo Spain will follow the Flower Sisters. I am a great fan of Jo Spain.

2014, Dublin: at St Edmunds, an elite college on the outskirts of the city, twenty-year-old medical student Theo gets up one morning, leaving behind his sleeping girlfriend, Dani, and his studies – never to be seen again. With too many unanswered questions, Dani simply can’t accept Theo’s disappearance and reports him missing, even though no one else seems concerned, including Theo’s father.

Ten years later, Dani returns to the college as a history professor. With her mother suffering from severe dementia, and her past at St Edmunds still haunting her, she’s trying for a new start. But not all is as it seems behind the cloistered college walls – meanwhile, Dani is hiding secrets of her own.

Daisy O’Shea is a new author to me, and I couldn’t resist The Irish Key after seeing it featured on several other blogs.

‘Take the key, my pet. I can’t ever go back. The last letter I had from Ireland was clear about that. But one day you may need a safe haven, and it’s the one thing I can give you. Ireland is in your blood, it will keep you safe.’

When Grace arrives tired, tearful and rain-soaked in Roone Bay, the little Irish village where her grandmother Caitlin grew up, she is overwhelmed with longing for Caitlin’s safe, warm arms. The crumbling wreck of Caitlin’s once-beautiful childhood cottage – whose key Grace was given on her wedding day as a secret refuge if she ever needed it – is not the fresh start she’d hoped for. But with her young daughter Olivia to look after and a painful past to hide from, Grace has to stay strong.

Plucking up the courage to ask for help from her kind new neighbours – including quietly rugged carpenter Sean Murphy – Grace gets to work making the house habitable. Soon the view of the deep emerald sea has her captivated, Olivia is blossoming, and Sean makes her laugh in a way she’d forgotten she could…

As she learns more about her family history, with Sean by her side, Grace’s curiosity unearths only further mystery. What drove Caitlin away from Ireland, never to return? But when Grace uncovers a long-lost letter to Caitlin that reveals the heartbreaking truth, she is suddenly threatened by her own devastating secrets.

Grace may have finally found a home for her little family. But when faced with everything she ran from, will the past tear her apart once more? Or will Grace find the strength to stand up for her daughter, her love for Sean, and her new life in Ireland?

I also have the audiobook of The Baby by A.J. McDine, another new-to-me author, to listen to. It is narrated by Tamsin Kennard.

The harsh light streams into the living room. On the worn rug sits an out-of-place wooden drawer and swaddled inside, with rosy cheeks and large round eyes, a baby looks up at me. A shiver runs through me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, but this baby is not mine…

Rocking the small bundle in my arms, I’m reminded of a time when I’d pictured tiny booties in every version of my future. The day I was told I’d never have a baby, the ground fell from beneath me. Could this be my one chance to become a mother?

As the sun sets, the baby begins to stir. His peaceful sleep disturbed by the sound of keys rattling against the front door. Frozen in panic, and with my heart pounding in my chest, I don’t have time to think before my husband, Miles, appears in the doorway. His face contorts in shock glimpsing the child cradled against my chest.

I hear his questions, but I can’t answer them. The truth is, I really don’t know what happened.

Did I steal the baby from a loving mother, or did I do it to protect him? And when dawn breaks, will I give him back?

So, that’s the plan for the week.

Dustin and Luke are having a wonderful time with Kyle in Perth. They went to a reptile park yesterday and now Luke wants to move to Australia so he can have a pet snake. 🙄🐍

Numbers have fallen off at aquarobics with the colder weather. It is actually quite nice not having to fight for space in the pool!

Pete has a week of early starts (2am) ahead of him this week. I find it easier just to work with his hours rather than trying to be quiet and keep normal hours myself.

Wednesday night Annette and I are going to Dragon’s 50th anniversary concert. I am really looking forward to this as I haven’t seen Dragon live since the mid-70s.

And Thursday is Anzac Day, a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand that broadly commemorates all Australians and New Zealanders “who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peace…” Let us not forget them.

Photo by aakash gupta on Pexels.com

The poppy is the ANZAC symbol and is why I have a banner of poppies at the top of my post. It is there to honor my Dad who was in J Force stationed in Nagasaki after the bombing. He loved Japan and the people and always wanted to return. Sadly, he was never able to.

The RSA (The Royal Returned and Services Assn) was founded in 1916 by wounded soldiers returning from Gallipoli to provide support and comfort for service men and women and their families.

The week prior to ANZAC day is marked by volunteers selling artificial poppies on the streets to raise funds to continue the RSA’s good work.