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Availability: Out of Stock
ISBN: 9781472258816
AuthorSims, Laura
Pub Date10/01/2019
BindingTrade PB
Pages192
CountryGBR
Dewey813.6
Quick overview 'This intense, gripping first novel shoehorns us into a gathering disquiet and sense of dread, heightened at every turn by our sympathetic understanding of her relentlessly unraveling protagonist. The precise, observant writing slips through the skin without ever calling attention to itself' - Peter Straub, author of A Dark Matter and Interior Darkness
€14.75

Have you ever wanted to steal someone else's life?

A compulsive, dark domestic noir novel simmering with Hitchcockian undertones, for those who loved LULLABY, KILLING EVE or THE CRY.

'Unsettling and compelling' Tammy Cohen

'Laura Sims has pulled off the high-wire act of making bitterness delicious' Vogue

The Professor lives in Brooklyn; her partner Nathan left her when she couldn't have a baby. All she has now is her dead-end teaching job, her ramshackle apartment, and Nathan's old moggy, Cat. Who she doesn't even like.

The Actress lives a few doors down. She's famous and beautiful, with auburn hair, perfect skin, a lovely smile. She's got children - a baby, even. And a husband who seems to adore her. She leaves her windows open, even at night.

There's no harm, the Professor thinks, in looking in through the illuminated glass at that shiny, happy family, fantasizing about them, drawing ever closer to the actress herself. Or is there?

Product description

Have you ever wanted to steal someone else's life?

A compulsive, dark domestic noir novel simmering with Hitchcockian undertones, for those who loved LULLABY, KILLING EVE or THE CRY.

'Unsettling and compelling' Tammy Cohen

'Laura Sims has pulled off the high-wire act of making bitterness delicious' Vogue

The Professor lives in Brooklyn; her partner Nathan left her when she couldn't have a baby. All she has now is her dead-end teaching job, her ramshackle apartment, and Nathan's old moggy, Cat. Who she doesn't even like.

The Actress lives a few doors down. She's famous and beautiful, with auburn hair, perfect skin, a lovely smile. She's got children - a baby, even. And a husband who seems to adore her. She leaves her windows open, even at night.

There's no harm, the Professor thinks, in looking in through the illuminated glass at that shiny, happy family, fantasizing about them, drawing ever closer to the actress herself. Or is there?