When you’ve lost everything – revenge is all that’s left…
Welcome to one of the many stops on the book blitz for Nothing Left To Lose by A.J. Wills with XPresso Book Tours. Look for others participating in this blitz across social media and on your favourite bookish blogs January 24-28, and don’t forget to enter the giveaway! More on that at the end of this post.
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About the Book
Nothing Left To Lose
by A.J. Wills
Published 8 January 2022
Cherry Tree Publishing
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Page Count: 362
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When you’ve lost everything – revenge is all that’s left…
After securing the convictions of two violent murderers for a horrific and brutal attack on a pensioner in his own home, Henry’s wife, Abi should be celebrating.
With the nation watching, it was her biggest test as a criminal lawyer.
But someone’s not happy.
First, there’s the hooded stranger who follows her home in the dead of night.
Then comes the attack on her car and a death threat in an anonymous hand-delivered letter.
Someone’s trying to scare them.
Someone wants revenge.
And they’ll stop at nothing until they’ve brought the couple to their knees – and exacted a deadly retribution…
Nothing Left To Lose is an electrifying psychological thriller from the No. 1 bestselling author of his Wife’s Sister.
Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK
Excerpt
Where the hell is she?
It’s gone half nine and a niggle of worry rumbles in my gut. A vision of Abi on a hospital trolley flashes through my mind. I shove it away. I’m being silly. Worrying unnecessarily. I’m sure she’s fine.
I snatch up my phone and hit the redial button, willing her to answer, hoping for a slurred apology and the sound of music thumping in the background. At least I would know she was safe.
I listen to a long hiss-filled silence, the blood gushing through my ears.
A click.
Her voice.
And for a split second, I dare to believe I’m through.
‘Abi?’
‘You’ve reached Abigail Pilkington-Hutton. I can’t take your call right now but leave a message.’
I slump in my chair and pinch the bridge of my nose as I ring off, my heart beating a little faster and a little harder. A kaleidoscope of images of my wife’s body dumped by the side of the road, bleeding, lifeless, her eyes staring blankly, spiral through my head.
Stop it.
I refuse to be that husband. She’s perfectly capable of looking after herself. She’s not a child. And yet, I can’t help but worry.
Of course, the lasagne’s ruined. A fiery blast stings my face as I flip open the oven door. I step back to let the curls of steam rush towards the ceiling and peer inside despondently at the charred remains. Shavings of Parmesan cheese are blackened beyond salvation and crusty tracks of meat sauce have bubbled up and hardened over the sides of the ceramic dish. It’s as good as cremated, even though I turned the heat down hours ago.
I slam the door shut. Wasting good food irks me, especially when I’ve put effort into cooking. It’s not as if it’s one of those vile cardboard-tasting ready meals, straight out of a packet. It’s an authentic Italian recipe from a dusty old cookbook I picked up in a secondhand bookstore in town. I used a pinch of rosemary and cubes of pan-fried pancetta for the ragu and a sprinkling of nutmeg in the bechamel sauce. A surprise treat to celebrate the end of Abi’s trial.
I’ve lost count of the number of evenings and weekends she’s given up working on the case. The missed bedtime stories with the girls. The hours going through witness statements “one more time”. After everything she’s sacrificed over the last couple of months, I thought tonight we could spend some time together.
But she’s not come home and her phone’s off.
As I finish my tea, my gaze falls on the stack of letters I’d put to one side. I sift through them one by one. A glossy brochure in a transparent plastic wrapper addressed to Abi. An electricity bill. The offer of a new credit card from a bank I’ve never heard of. And a charity begging letter seeking donations for a new animal sanctuary, complete with the obligatory pictures of sad-looking dogs.
Lastly, I open the plain white envelope, imagining it’s one of those clever marketing campaigns to trick you into thinking you’ve received an actual letter from a real person. Inside is a single sheet of milk-white paper. Curious, I unfold it and smooth it out on the table. There are four printed lines of text. No company name or logo. No sales pitch. No fancy marketing copy. I turn the sheet over, but it’s blank on the other side. It’s weird. As I read, my breath catches in my throat.
One death was too much.
Two is unbearable.
An eye for an eye seems only fair after what you’ve done.
So now I have nothing left to lose, I’ll see you in hell.
I read it over again twice more with my hand trembling and the sensation that the ground is falling away under my chair.
One death was too much?
Whose death?
And two is unbearable?
I immediately think of the Farrows. I bet this is their work. Its exact meaning isn’t entirely clear, but the sentiment is obvious. I was right. They blame Abi for Jimmy and Dean’s convictions. And now they want revenge.
An eye for an eye?
I’ll see you in hell?
It chimes with the message etched into the glass on Abi’s Mini. I flush hot and cold. This feels serious. Is it a death threat? What else can it possibly be? And whoever wrote it must have been to the house to deliver it. That means they came right up the drive and stood on the doorstep.
I should call Abi. But what about the girls? Are they in danger? Should I collect them from school early, just in case? Or am I overreacting? It’s only a letter. Words on a piece of paper. But the tone and the language are deeply disturbing.
Perhaps I should call the police. Or is it better to ignore it?
I have absolutely no idea what to do.
About the Author
AJ Wills is the number one Kindle bestselling author of multiple psychological thrillers.
He was a journalist for 20 years and also ran the communications department at a national charity in the UK.
He has been writing full time since March 2021 and runs the small independent publishing company, Cherry Tree Publishing, with his wife, AJ McDine, a fellow thriller author.
“I’ve always loved thrillers, but psychological thrillers hold a special interest for me because they’re about the scary, insane, disturbing things that happen to ordinary people – and we can all relate to them on some level,” he said.
He lives in Kent in the UK with wife, Amanda, their two teenage sons and two cats.
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